Vors shakes his head. "No sense runnin' after it for me. I'm not in my armor, and wouldn't trust a fight with an orc byself without it. A dead orc'll send the same message as a livin' one, anyway - that we're closer to ready than they thought. I'm hoping he didn't have a chance to see much before he took off, though. Come on, let's get the report back. This lets us know we only have a little time to finish preparations. Maybe we can yet change up one more thing."
When they return, Vors shares some of the intel, then asks, "Didn't someone say something about caltrops at one point? Can we still make some of those? Even just a set of nails to twist together might slow one of 'em down, especially if they aren't wearing boots."
Pebbles returns with the others to report the news to Perrin, who frowns with worry. "The orcs are here? I hope Goodman Nolton doesn't run into them on the road, that could be horrible."
At Vors' mention of caltrops the doctor takes on a more thoughtful expression. "Or how about traps? We could try setting some up by the gate and the bridge, maybe cover them with branches and leaves. I don't know much about snares, but if it'll hold a bear I figure it'll hold an orc."
"Traps would be good," Mel says, "But I don't know where we'd get some."
"I'll leave that up to you all -- I have to keep working on bows. The more arrows we can put in them before they get close, the better."
So saying, Mel nods to the others, and returns to the smithy. "It's all right, they haven't come quite yet," Mel says as she enters. "The lookouts spotted an orc scout observing us."
Everyone plunges back into their preparations. Those of you who knew Cyrus for a year or more suspect he would have some traps in his hut.
You don't see anything unusual as you look around from the watchtower.
Vors directs folks to put the gate for the palisade on the Astin end of town. "Hirda's already got that bridge ready, let's make sure to catch a few of 'em that way."
He brings a couple others and heads to Cyrus' hut and picks up the traps that he knew the hunter kept there. It's strange to think the man's only been dead a couple of days - seems almost a lifetime ago. "All right, get three of these on this side of the bridge - right in the palisade gap. If they want to clamber up the banks to get in that way after we drop the bridge, then we'll slow 'em down."
He takes the other seven traps and puts two just outside the Astin gate, in case they try to batter their way through there. One he puts right on the edge of the palisade and the river at the southeast corner, in case an orc tries to sneak around the edge somehow. The remaining four he asks for opinions: "Should we put a few right on the treeline? Might catch one or two and make them slow down their initial rush."
That's a good plan. Cover 'em up wid some leaves er sod. Don' let anyone wander round that area, specially the young'uns. Now, less finish up the last bits o' the palisade, n' work on puttin' the gates up. New moons t'night, n' like t' be the best time for the orcs t' attack.
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Did some trappin' in me younger days, 'ere lemme show ya. Find the most likely spot t' take a step--right 'ere fer example. Ease it back, set the trigger, get yer 'and outa there n' fast. Now cover it over with some grass. N' mos important, 'MEMBER WHERE YA PUT IT!!
After helping Vors set the traps, Hirda returns to help the townsfolk put the finishing touches on the palisade and gate.
The old warrior gladly lets Hirda do her work, smiling all the while at her bluster.
Perrin puts up a few helpful signs reminding people to watch out for the traps and stay clear of those areas.
Hirda's experience shines through as Perrin's signs are soon needed. Many of the residents of Brookside have trouble believing there are traps hidden around town until one is very specifically and clearly pointed out to them from up close.
After Perrin is finished warning townspeople about the newly set traps, he offers to help any of them with stores of grain or other food move them inside the town walls, so that they don't get stolen like the Higgins'. He'll use a combination of Pebbles, a mule, and the bag of holding to carry everything to where it needs to be.
After that's done, he goes down to the river and fills up the empty bag of holding with at least thirty gallons of water. Now that they've got their palisade all built up, it wouldn't do for it to burn down just because of some orc with a torch.
Then Perrin returns to his lab with Pebbles, continuing his work on the sunrods for most of the afternoon. Eventually, though, he sets his equipment aside and heads out to find Mel, where she's busy working on her own craft.
He knocks on the door. "Hey, Mel, can I talk to you for a second?" If she comes out, he greets her with a pained expression on his face, hesitating as though unsure of his actions. "Here. I want you to have these, if you'll take them." He holds out his hand, and in it are two small bottles containing strange liquids, one emerald green and the other midnight blue. "Don't worry, they're not mine, they were in that magic bag you found at the orc camp. I haven't even opened them. The green one will heal you from injury, and the blue one should make you better at all sorts of things for a few minutes." He pauses, looking down at his feet. "If you don't want me to help protect you," his voice wavering, "you should at least be able to protect yourself."
"Yes, one moment," Mel says as the doctor arrives. "I think we've done as much as we can here, everyone. Put everything away while I talk with Doctor Perrin, please."
She steps outside the smithy to speak with Perrin, taking the bottles when he holds them out. She studies them for an uncomfortably long moment.
Make a Spellcraft check; DC 15.
Sadly Mel has no ranks in Spellcraft, and thus cannot attempt to identify their exact properties; all she gets is presence/absence of magical aura, strength, and school if she passes these checks.
"Well, thank you, Doctor," Mel says. "I would like to survive the night." She pockets the potions and returns her gaze to Perrin.
"It is strange to have greater faith in the concoctions of an orc shaman than those of the town doctor," she says. "Yet that is how things stand."
Conjuration for green. You don't know for the blue one.
"Yeah, because I'm sure he worships a god of sunshine and rainbows!" Perrin responds in a tone of such utter sincerity and cheerfulness that it almost makes you question the obvious sarcasm of the content.
Then he raises his eyebrows as he realizes what it was he just saw. "Hey, nice trick!" He seems to perk up in interest, even breaking into a slight smile. "I didn't know you could do that. You know, if you want to double-check my identification, which is probably a really good idea, you could always go ask our friend Halak. He had these potions in the first place, so I'm sure he knows what they do."
"No reason you should know," Mel says. "You're not the only one with secrets, Doctor; though mine are not likely to cause anyone to sprout tentacles."
"As for Halak, I don't think he made these potions. The magical signature on this one --" she taps the healing potion "-- is far stronger than any abilities he displayed in combat, at least according to what the rest of you have told me about the fight. And if you are a caster, surely the time to pull out your best spells is when people are trying to kill you."
"Besides which, I don't think his power originates from a deity at all! Unless I miss my guess, I believe he's a practitioner of the druidic arts. That would be consistent with his ability, attested by the correspondence from the orc camp, to enlist small animals as messengers."
"On that basis, I believe these potions were loot, most likely from human settlements further to the east. There's no telling who made them; but I'm willing to take my chances."
Vors takes the afternoon to collect up all the buckets that he can, every container in the village, and fill them with water. Every barrel he can find that can be emptied, he fills with water at regular intervals around the town. Then, giving the teenagers a chance to move about a bit right at the end of the day, he asks them to climb on roofs of houses and douse the shingles with water, as much as they can stand without leaking. ”Just in case they put fire to an arrow, let’s give the houses the best fighting chance we can.”
If there are any other logs that were harvested for the palisade but not used, he asks that they be strewn out in the open space between the palisade and the wood’s edge. ”Maybe they won’t see them in the dark - it’s possible they could trip.”
After a couple hours of bucket brigade, he takes another stale loaf of bread, asks Hirda to come with him (or one of the others, if she’s busy), and goes to have a chat with Halak.
”All right, we’ve spotted them at the edge of the wood. We know they’re close, and your information gave us enough warning. What’ll happen now? How will they attack? One mad rush at our walls? Let the Karak come first, then follow it across the opening? Will any try a cowards way, and attempt to sneak in? What’s your sense of their tactics?”
Halak looks up grimly when you return.
Ukar wise. Ukar ready many plans. Halak try guess but Ukar slippery. Where am? What is like?
Halak was unconscious when brought into this hut where he's been kept.
C'mon Vors, we hain't gonna get any useful infermation from this nasty orc. I dunno what more we kin do t' prepare. They might be plannin' to tunnel in, er ride in on a dragon fer all we know. But bein' orcs from barbarian lands, mos' likely they's jus gonna charge the wall, n' we done all we can t' defend aginst that. Bes' thing t' do now, is git everbuddy fed, n' a short nap. It'll 'elp keep up their strength n' their spirits both.
As the sun sets, Hirda sends word around town for everyone to gather for a community meal. She gets a few of the older kids to help her slaughter one of her pigs, pulls out her best cheeses and ale (but not too much). They gather around an open fire in the square and chow down. Hirda does her best to inspire cheer, to banish the gloom and despair that is clearly overtaking some of the townspeople.
Tis an honor t' live 'mong such fine folk, I gotter say. No place I'd rather haf t' defend than right 'ere. Mark me words, ol' Nolton'll show up with the 'ole Astin garrison t' take them orcs from behind, that is, whatever of 'ems left after we fill 'em wit arrows from the top o' the wall.
The more musically inclined play a few jigs and ballads, while Hirda accompanies by bashing a tambourine, not quite matching the rhythm.
Hirda strides with determination out of the tent. Halak turns to you, Vors, with a weary face.
After concluding her conversation with Perrin, Mel returns to her students. "You've all done excellent work," she says to them. "There's not much left to do."
"Garn, please deliver these bows and a bundle of arrows each to Ursa Dorner and Orin Tollin." She hands him two longbows.
"Nella, this one's for your mother, and this one is for Alexandra Higgins," she says, passing over a shortbow and a longbow.
"Susy, if you could please take these to Roger Tomfoot and Judith Sindal," along with another shortbow and a longbow.
"Scratchtail, these are for Whisky and Pats." She hands him shortbows and matching arrows.
"Joran, here's a shortbow for your mother. Your father already has a bow, I believe, so here are some spare arrows for him. Make sure he knows that you made these arrows specifically for him -- I kept yours aside for that."
"I'll deliver this one to Reinala Falchen," she concludes. "Now listen: they're probably going to show up in the next few hours. Eat a solid dinner, you may need the energy. If you can take a quick nap, do so, but the gods know it's hard to sleep in times like these. And lastly, keep in mind that these --" she taps her knife "-- are a last resort. Stay alive and free if you can; it's better than the alternatives. May Ostara keep us all safe through the night."
After her students have dispersed, Mel makes her way to the Falchen household. "Reinala?" she calls, knocking on the door. When it opens, she holds out the bow and arrows. "Here -- you'll likely need these. Ah, and I have a favor to ask. Could I, err, take a nap somewhere here for an hour or two? Since all this began I've been sleeping in the guard tower and working like a maniac all day, and I'm beat. I really need a nap for an hour or two in a real bed."
Perrin returns to his lab and puts the finishing touches on a handful of sunrods. Once again, he finds several interested townspeople and passes out the gold-tipped iron bars. "These rods can glow brighter than a torch, without any risk of starting a fire. You just have to strike it against something, and the end will shed light for up to six hours." He also gives one of them the bag of holding full of water to help put out fires, explaining how it works and that they need to turn it inside out over any flame that catches hold.
Then he tries to get some sleep, setting Pebbles out to keep watch.
Vors nods to Halak slowly. "I'll hear her out - prove her wrong. You are a few hundred feet from the trees, in a town surrounded by a wood palisade on three sides, and a river on the fourth. One main gate - with a watchtower - on the opposite end of town from the river. There's a bridge over the river to get to town. The trees to the south - where Ukar had scouts - are at the edge of the hills, so you'd be coming down to get to us and the river."
He fills in minor details for Halak, saying nothing of their defensive preparations. "So pretend you're crafty like Ukar. What does a warleader with a Karak and a band of orcs do?"
Mel's students nod grimly and distribute their weapons and arrows. Several of them wince when she taps her knife.
The villagers' eyes grow wide as the strange doctor hands them these odd light sources. Some of them seem hesitant or skeptical about the sunrods until Noln pipes up. Aye I've seen these 'afore when 'irda and me were in the army. Didn't need 'em too often but they were shore helpful when we needed a good look at somethin'. With Noln's assurances, the villagers willingly take Perrin's strange devices and Garn Rockhill, having delivered the precious longbows, happily takes the bag of holding.
Halak shrugs the best he can in his bonds.
Me no warleader but me guess. Ukar different other warleaders. Always have more plans. Probably try bridge. Probably have other ways for river too. Him try fire for wood. Him try opening for karak, maybe at gate. Ukar distract one place. Strike other. Waste nothing. Him make 20 orc feel like 50.
Vors grunts at Halak. "I suppose that's what I expected. He might have put scouts in the woods to the south, but plans to come from the north. When you say try opening for karak, you mean he'll try to punch a hole open for the karak before sending it in? Or that the karak is going to come through there on its own strength."
Neither is good, but the former might give us more time than the latter, Vors thinks to himself.
- - - - - - -
Reinala takes the bow from , sighing. "Can't say that I'm excited, of course, but I can't have Vors out fighting and not support him as best I can. Thank you, dear, for everything."
Halak shrugs.
Not sure. But an opening he wants and the karak in walls he wants.
Darkness falls with a cloud of dread upon Brookside. Everyone is tense and, despite their fatigue, not an eyelid droops. Villagers hold weapons and stand at posts. Small children are herded indoors and kept quiet. Even the few animals inside the palisade seem to understand the gravity of the moment.
After a hearty meal and some much-needed entertainment, Hirda spends half an hour alone preparing herself mentally and physically for whatever is to come. After putting clean bandages on her remaining wounds, she takes some time adjusting her new chain shirt. Wonder where those orcs picked up this fine piece. We ain't got anything this nice in our town, that's for sure. Then again, we luckily don't have much use for armor.
Noln, Lem, shall we defend the bridge entrance together? Jus so's ya know, I spent a long n' happy life 'ere wit you'uns, I hain't got no regrets. If'n I die pertecting the rest o' these gentlefolk n' our humble ways, I'll be 'appy. This most heartfelt of dwarven speeches is met with a grumbled "aye" from her family. They all know the depth of feeling each has, no need for outward expression.
Reinala, recovering after the thought of having to take a life - even that of an orc - shakes herself and says, "I'm sorry, of course, yes. This way, please, Mel."
She leads the archer to a small side room, with little more than a small bed. There's a small clay pitcher and basin on the ledge of the window. On one wall hangs a needlepoint of a key next to a bow and arrow - the well known symbols of Abadar and Erastil.
"This was Vors' mother's room, when she lived with us in her last days," Reinala offers. "A fine woman, from the city, but committed to the country by marriage. A familiar tale for me - though I didn't always appreciate how she tried to take over parenting the children. Goodwife Higgins has used it the last two nights, but she will be content by the fire for now, and then she'll be back once we are through this. Do you need something to eat? Or drink? I don't know where Vors put that whisky, but there's surely something around here if you need it."
As the darkness begins to fall, Perrin's elemental wakes him from his slumber to prepare for the long night to come. Perrin has a quick bite to eat and dons his armor, his movements soft and mechanical - it is clear that his concentration is elsewhere. Before heading outside, he ties a couple pieces of string around his right hand, looping them so the inner piece is enclosed within his palm. Stepping out into the dusk, he casts light on the covered piece of string, so he can choose whether to illuminate the area around him simply by opening or closing his hand.
Pebbles glides into the earth once more and starts patrolling the perimeter of the town at his tireless pace, senses alert to any unusual vibration from beyond the wall. Perrin takes up a post at the base of the watchtower, peering around the edge to keep the gate just barely within his sight.
"Thanks, Reinala, I appreciate it. If you have some food on hand, that would be lovely; just whatever is easiest."
Reinala obliges with a meal of leftover shepherd's pie, remarking "You wouldn't believe how large I have to make these to have any left over!"
Mel devours it whole, then asks if Reinala could please wake her as soon as the sun starts setting, and passes out on the bed fully clothed.
Perhaps an hour and half later, Reinala wakes her. Mel rises, rubbbing the grit from her eyes. "I feel like I could sleep for a week," she says. "But I'm much better for the nap. Thank you."
After wiping her face with a cool cloth and taking a long drink of water, Mel squeezes Reinala's shoulder in thanks. "Good luck," she says, for lack of anything more profound.
Making her way to the guard tower, Mel collects a bucket of water and hauls it up the ladder with her. "Best have a couple of these up here," she remarks to the villagers on watch.
Noln and Lem stand straight next to Hirda with their shoulders broad squared. With slightly moistened eyes, they nod in agreement and get ready for whatever may come. They stare at the dark silhouette of the bridge with the end of the small cord lying hidden near their feet. The quiet, peaceful gurgle of the Lesser Rush seems to mock their anxiety.
From the base of the watchtower, Perrin can barely make out the villagers standing ready and anxious all around him. The dark shapes of unnaturally quiet friends and neighbors on the catwalk can barely be made out against the background of stars. The rough wooden gate silently testifies to the unnatural conversion of Brookside into a place of war.
The young folk in the watchtower nod nervously at Mel as she brings up the water. Most of the residents of Brookside have never encountered something more terrifying than an accidental fire. Malicious fires followed up by a barbaric, bloody assault have seized the imagination of both of the youths, who speak as little as possible.
Mel looks up at the stars for a moment, clasps her necklace in one hand, and thinks Ostara grant we all survive the night.
Lowering her gaze once more, she scans for attackers. As the light dwindles, she focuses more on listening to the darkness, hoping an unwary orc might give away their position with a stumble, or better yet step in one of the traps.
Vors is standing at the base of the watchtower with Perrin. He's not much for ranged combat, and he'd be wasted on holding anything but his halberd. The smell of orc was just starting to wear off of his claimed armor, but after tonight it might never wash out of this town.
"Perrin, if you need me to relay anything with a bellow, let me know. They didn't give me sargeant rank for having a quiet voice."
He looks up on the north wall to where Reinala has taken a post, not far from their home. He can't make her out in the darkness from here, of course, but all the same he's comforted to just look.
His gaze wanders over to the gate, and hopes that whatever tries to come through it will be delayed just enough to get slowed down by Mel's arrows and whatever cocktails the good doctor has created.
The long years of training in the army come back to him then, and he finds himself falling into a five minute cadence of occasional foot stamping for warmth, stretching to stay limber, and twirling his halberd to keep his muscles ready.
You hear a small thump. Unsure where it came from, you look around for half a minute or so before you're glimpse something with a slight shine on it on the palisade just north of the gate. It's hard for you to make it out in the low light from this distance until you realize it is a grappling hook.
You spot one or more dark figures moving among the abandoned buildings on the west side of the Lesser Rush.
You hear some soft thumping noise that seems to be coming from a ways East by Northeast of the gate.
Pebbles is currently on the Southeast side of the palisade and hasn't reported anything.
Perrin's head suddenly jerks up, turning toward the eastern wall. "I think I heard something," he mutters to Vors. "From over there." He points to the northeast, at the same time sending a feeling of need through his empathic link to call Pebbles back to him.
Mel shouts: "Grappling hook -- on the palisade, just north of the gate! They're scaling the walls! 'Ware invaders! Lights! Lights!"
Mel's AC increased to 17 when she put on the mwk chain shirt from Orc Scout 2, but the following skills dropped due to the -1 armor check penalty:
Acrobatics +8
Climb +4
Escape Artist +2
Fly +2
Ride +3
Stealth +11
Swim +1
She is not encumbered, but had to leave a lot of her gear in the smithy with her backpack. Currently she has a belt pouch containing the following: 3 fish hooks, flint and steel, healer's kit, silk thread for fishlines, Potion of Cure Serious Wounds, Potion of Good Hope. She has 30 arrows, her masterwork composite longbow (STR+1), and a holy symbol of Ostara made from the shards of the first bow she ever crafted. And clothes, including boots. That's her entire inventory.
Knowing that he might have to show the newly trained ones how this is done before just asking them to do it themselves, Vors grabs Kelian by the shoulder and says, "Come with me! Silas, Scatton, you come too - we'll take this one out and then get back here to guard the gate. Perrin, I'll be right back."
The old warrior trots over to the part of the palisade where the orc is likely to come over.
Over there, see 'em? Wait t' pull the bridge down until we can get a group of 'em, may mean we'll need t' block 'em at the end as they come over.
Willy, go find Vors n' tell 'im we got company on t'other side o' the river. Just a few now, maybe more behind 'em.
Hirda sends the kid she brought along as a messenger.
Several sunrods are struck by defenders on top of the palisade simultaneously, flaring up and lighting the night. Villagers begin shouting in fear, uncertain what they should do. Archers on that side of the palisade scan the night for enemies.
Alexandra Higgins turns toward Mel in confusion and calls out.
There's no one on the other end of the rope!
From his box on the palisade, Scratchtail calls out.
Something is moving back towards the woods!
He points to the north. The villagers fall silent, unsure what to do and looking to you for guidance.
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"Uh ... it must be a trick! Ready arrows and keep alert! Alexandra, don't leave that rope hanging there -- either pull it inside or cut it off the hook so they can't use it later!"
Mel eases her pull a bit and looks around once more now that there's more light, scanning for clear targets.
With the new lighting and your careful attention to your surroundings, you notice an enormous, strange rectangle of wood advancing somewhat slowly and surprisingly quietly toward the gate from the treeline (currently in P2). Confused, you look at it more carefully until you realize that it is a large, roughly humanoid creature covering itself (total cover) with an appropriately-sized tower shield made of wood. There seem to be 5 medium-sized creatures following carefully behind it (improved cover).
With your keen ears, you also detect some shuffling and slight clanking noises coming from the west side of the bridge. The light doesn't extend far enough for you to make it out clearly but in the dim light you see several figures moving among the abandoned buildings on the west side of the bridge.
Given this information, where do you want to direct that attack roll?
"Suloinen Ostaranen sydän," Mel gasps, and lets fly the arrow at one of the orcs following the creature advancing on the gate.
"Vors!" she yells down. "The karak is advancing on the main gate. He's got a wood shield the size of a ruddy barn door and five friends playing hide-and-seek behind it. We need fire over there! And there's some deviltry brewing across the bridge, too -- clanking and shuffling."
"Why didn't we think of making fire arrows? We could have made fire arrows! Send some of the teens -- tell them to bring lamp oil and torches to the gate. If we can set that shield alight the foul thing may drop it so our archers can shoot it properly. Oh, paska! Archers, check the palisade for grappling hooks, maybe they landed more than one -- clear them if you find one!"
Vors curses, loudly enough for Kelian to look at him with a startled expression, then hurries back towards the gate. "Come on, lads. Straight to the thick of it. Stay back for a moment until it focuses it's attention on me, then advance cautiously. No heroics! It focuses on me, and the good doctor's stone beasty, you got it?!"
Hirda can't quite make out just what is going on across the bridge. She stands with her freshly-whetted makeshift glaive just off to one side of the bridge, ready to move in and block any orcs that might try to cross. Her husband Noln is at her side, her son Lem a short way behind. She keeps the trigger rope taut, waiting for the best moment to collapse the bridge (hopefully) and douse as many orcs as possible.
As if on cue, Pebbles bursts up from the ground next to Perrin in a shower of dirt. Perrin quickly relays what he knows, and the rocky creature rushes after Vors, with the doctor jogging along behind. "I can torch it, but only if it gets close." As he moves, Perrin raises what looks like a rough lump of metal over his head, at the same time opening his other hand so a burst of light illuminates his surroundings. "C'mon guys, we can do this!"
"Vors," Mel calls out as he takes off, "He's still outside the palisade -- get in position, but make them work for it if they want to get in!"