Reginald clicks his tongue at Grimdhal, but Pravic manages to buy him half a second. While the paladin talks, Reginald gives the command, Archers! Draw! His hand hovers in the air, the command to loose teetering on his lips.
Hearing Reginald's command, Lothar held his sling aloft. While the simple weapon did not have the range of a bow or crossbow... this close, it barely mattered.
Even knowing the Drow will never retreat, Nurin silently hopes they turn back. Pull back, you pointy-eared devils! The cost will be too high, and your plans have failed so far. Go back!
Outwardly though, Nurin hears Reginald call and he nods to the gnomes around him. While they draw their bows and crossbows, he readies a spell.
Grimdahl matches his brother, glare for glare. Pravic may have inherited their mother's charm, but he, Grimdahl, has the willpower, the determination, the plain good dwarvish sense. "The point of a surprise, brother, is to surprise. If you don't have that, you don't, in a very real sense, have the advantage of surprise. Now don't bother me - I'm in the middle of something. "
Suiting the word to the deed, he sends another ray of acid at the drow leader.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Ingrid's axe and shield snap into her hands, ready for the command.
Grimdahl's spray of acid falls well short of Damiel, but the message is clear. The drow warrior's face curls into a feral rictus. "When the slaughter is finished, dwarf, I will drag you back to Vothys and peel your skin off for fun." He kicks his lizard into motion and it scuttles back towards the drow battle line.
A horn blows shrilly from somewhere in the drow ranks. The slaves soldiers begin to march forward. The Battle for Fasturvalt has begun.
Pravic glares at his brother evenly, not blinking, before his stern visage breaks into a slow grin, which turns into a broad smile. Laughing, he claps Lord Gernie on the back.
"Count on a Tharnhammer to know how to pick a proper fight! Ha!" he hosts his hammer in the direction of the druid.
"The bards and minstrels will sing of this battle for centuries. The day we turned the murderous drow back on their heels and sent them running! For Faustervault!"
-Posted with Wayfinder
As soon as the foe is in range, Reginald gives the command. LOOSE!
Initiative -[b]
=>Block 1 - Goblin Slaves
Block 2 - Bali/Ingrid/Ivy/Pravic/Reginald
Block 3: Troglodyte Slave
Block 4: Lothar, Grimdahl, Nurin
Block 5: Orc Slaves
[b]Round 1
Predetermined Actions -
Active Effects -
Map (Round 1) -[b]
[b]Current Damage -
Notes -
The Fasturvalt militia lets loose with a volley of crossbow bolts, slicing into the front wave of slave soldiers. Some fall, but many more press forward, stepping over the bodies of their dead. The gnomish militia, well-trained by Bali and Lothar calmly reload in the face of the horde and release another flurry at closer range. More soldiers fall under the withering hail of Fasturvalt's brave volunteers. And yet still they come, whether driven by their master's whips or drugged into a mania is difficult to discern.
One final volley from the militia, and Lord Geirni gives the signal to retreat. The gnomish soldiers shoulder their crossbows and march across the trapped bridge in an orderly fashion, laying the bait for the drow army to come thundering across and plunging to their doom. Now it is the dwarves chance for valor, fighting a desperate rearguard to give the gnomes enough time to regroup and take position in the streets of Fasturvalt. If all goes to plan, the dwarves will be the last across the bridge.
Stumbling through the successive crossbow volleys are the lucky few from the first rank of slave soldiers: a group of wild-eyed orcs and goblins led by a lean and feral-looking troglodyte. You must prevent them from crossing!
Bali, not yet even breaking a sweat, charges the goblin soldier, hammer swinging.
As Bali charges toward one goblin, Ingrid rushes the next, waraxe in hand. With a mighty yell, she swings at the goblin, feeling her weapon cleave effortlessly through flesh and bone.
Reginald slings a stone at the far right goblin in order to conserve his spells, but the distance is long and his stone falls off target.
"Of course they use slaves for fodder. Well, at least its goblins. Yeaaaarrrr!!!"
Pravic rushes forward as quickly as his stubby legs can carry him.
"Just come try to take a bite out of me, and see what my hammer tastes like!" He shouts at the goblin in front of him.
Ivy spun her dagger nervously. She looked up, seeing the dwarves charge, and it filled her with all the courage she needed,
Ivy fell into line behind them. She ducked underneath Ingrid's swinging axe, and slide behind Bali's goblin's into order to flank it.
Initiative -
Block 1 - Goblin Slaves
Block 2 - Bali/Ingrid/Ivy/Pravic/Reginald
Block 3: Troglodyte Slave
=>Block 4: Lothar, Grimdahl, Nurin
Block 5: Orc Slaves
Round 1
Predetermined Actions -
Active Effects -
Troglodyte Stench
Map (Round 1) -
Current Damage -
Notes -
Bali, Ingrid, Pravic, and Ivy plunge into the slave warrior line. The first swing of Bali's longhammer falls short, but Ingrid's strike is true, cleaving her goblin opponent from shoulder to groin.
A lanky troglodyte wielding a stone club charges Pravic, but its overhead swing is blocked by the paladin's shield. The troglodyte's horrible stench fills the nostrils of the dwarves, but their hardy nature prevents it from distracting during the melee.
Seeing the others rush into battle inspires the young dwarf. Nurin charges after the others, gripping the Axe of Grunwald in both hands. He swings at one of the goblins.
Grimdahl watches as his fellow dwarves deal with the advance guard. Behind them, he sees a number of orcs advancing. Drawing on the power of his druidic magic, he wraps the area up in tangling trails, fungus creepers, and the like, to hold them in place.
Seeing Ingrid handling herself well and Ivy about to strike, Lothar surged into battle beside Pravic
Resisting the foul stench of the creature, Lothar joined Pravic's melee against the nasty smelling humanoid- charging forward with gusto, the talented warrior drove his spear straight into the creature's chest. Severely wounding the slave, Lothar looked to Pravic to finish the damn thing off before it could wound anyone.
Initiative -
Block 1 - Goblin Slaves
Block 2 - Bali/Ingrid/Ivy/Pravic/Reginald
Block 3: Troglodyte Slave
Block 4: Lothar, Grimdahl, Nurin
Block 5: Orc Slaves
Round 2
Predetermined Actions -
Active Effects -
Red Square - Entangle
Troglodyte Stench
Map (Round 2) -
Current Damage -
Troglodyte - 12
Notes -
Lothar's spear plunges into the troglodyte's chest. It screeches in pain, but keeps coming. The creature forces itself down the shaft towards the monk, claws reaching out.
Tendrils of fibrous fungus crawl out of the mushroom crops, called into creation by Grimdahl. The vines ensnare two orcs and slow the other, but they keep coming. After a few seconds, most of the slaves had torn themselves free, for now.
The goblins try to slash at Bali and Nurin, but fail to land.
Ingrid steps over the split corpse of the goblin at her feet, a prayer to Torag whispering past her lips. She feels her armour imbued with the warmth of the forge, the all-father's blessing strengthening her body and mind, as she swings her axe at the goblin attempting to savage Nurin.
"Here we go!" Pravic flashes a grin at Lothar before ducking behind his shield and moving around the impaled Troglodyte.
Once in position behind the lizard, Pravic comes out from behind his shield with a roar, swinging his hammer powerfully.
for
"Torag wants ye to have a seat!" he spits at the lizard-slave.
Bali leaps back as the goblin in front of her advances and takes another swing.
Seeing the thing crushed to pieces, Bali yells "Stupid fodder, give me some Drow to lay low!
As Bali crushed the next goblin, Knivey Ivy spun and ran towards the larger fight. Easily ducking under the goblins thrashing spear and lining her knife up a for a flanking attack on the goblin Ingrid and Nurin were engaged with.
Reginald still refrains from using his magic and slings another stone.
Initiative -
Block 1 - Bali/Ingrid/Ivy/Pravic/Reginald/Lothar, Grimdahl, Nurin
Block 2 - Orc Slaves
Round 2
Predetermined Actions -
Active Effects -
Red Square - Entangle
Map (Round 2) -
Current Damage -
Orc 3 - 2
Notes -
The attacks of Pravic, Ivy, and Bali finish off the front row of slave soldiers. The orc slaves continue to struggle through the field of twisted mushrooms, although Reginald manages to hit one with a bullet from his sling.
This would be a perfect opportunity for the Tharnhammer Company to fall back over the trapped bridge.
Tarnhammers! Now! Reginald bellows. He would loose another stone at the orcs, but reloading would take too long. Instead, he falls back immediately and as fast as he can so he can cover the retreat should they be hotly followed.
Grimdahl keeps as close a watch on his spell as he can, falling back with Reginald. Once in position, he will ready an acid dart to cover the mêlée group's retreat.
Nurin looks ready to charge into the remaining orcs, when Reginald gives his command. He looks to the other dwarves, particularly Pravic, Ingrid, and Bali. "Should we...?" he's cut off as Reginald calls again, and then young dwarf begins to retreat.
Bali, hearing Reginald bellow the fall back order, grins menacingly at the orcs, turns and runs.
Pravic smirks at the orcs in front of him, then turns and bolts for the bridge with his company. He turns over his shoulder, jeering at the orc behind him, secretly hoping the creature will be quick enough to catch up for one last swipe with his hammer before the squad crosses the bridge.
The dwarves cross the bridge over the Snabbinflod with a horde of slave soldiers nipping at their heels. Grimdahl's spell had bought them precious time, preventing another wave of savages from tying them up. As soon as Ingrid, the last dwarf over the bridge, reaches solid ground, the gnomish militia releases another volley of crossbow fire into the slaves. The goblinoids die in droves, but they continue to advance despite the slaughter. They pressed forward, climbing over the corpses of their fellows, and packed onto the bridge, eager to end the crossbow volleys from the gnomish militia.
Now came the trap. Tammar Even-the-Stones-Listen had spent the previous two weeks guiding a team of stonecutters in removing key structural pieces from the bridge, placing all of the support on a single keystone. If removed, the bridge would collapse into the deadly river with even a slight amount of weight on it. Packed with slave soldiers of the drow, now was that time.
Upriver from the bridge, a group of stonecutters roll barrels weighted with mushroom wood into the Snabbinflod. The swift river grabs onto them and they hurtle at breakneck speed towards the bridge. With a massive crash, one of the barrels connects with the support and the bridge disintegrates. Fifty slaves disappear into the foaming white rapids of the Snabbinflod and do not resurface. It seems the river's deadly reputation proves true.
The destruction of the bridge sends the drow force into confusion. More of the slave soldiers are pushed into the Snabbinflod by the press of the others behind them. The morale of the remaining slave soldiers finally snaps as goblins, orcs, and other foul creatures clamber over each other to escape the certain death of the water. The drow fall amongst the slaves with whip and sword, eager to cull the panic before it becomes a full rout. Another volley of crossbow bolts makes them call a general retreat, falling back to the road between the mushroom fields to lick their wounds.
The gnomish defenders gathered in the town square let loose a cheer. The dwarves are approached by Tammar, Harvald, and Lord Geirni. Tammar is dressed in a simple suit of leather armor and leans on a stone pick-axe with a mithral blade. Harvald wears the chain and shield of the Fasturvalt militia. Lord Geirni is the most impressively dressed of all the gnomes, in exquisitely crafted and maintained full plate and steel shield bearing the mark of House Geidne. The shortsword he holds shimmers with some sort of enchantment. A brown shaggy pelt covers his shoulders.
Geirni speaks first. "Did you SEE THAT? It was like KABOOM! and they were like SPLASH! and then AHHH! It was AMAZING." The svirfneblin noble punctuates each exclamation with childish pantomime.
"Indeed, my lord," Tammar nods, drawing from his marble pipe. "The plan worked and the dark elves were sent reeling. However, the battle was far from over."
"He's right." Harvald adds, gruff as ever. "The drow still outnumber us two to one and the dark elves are known for their treachery. We must be ready."
Grimdahl takes the moment to light a rather pleased cigar; so far, they're all still alive and have boosted morale with an easy first victory.
Breathing out a superior smoke ring, he speaks.
"Time to strike while we have stolen the momentum from them. There are two other bridges that the drow can cross; if we can bottle them in at the choke points, superior numbers will count for nothing."
Nurin cheers as he sees the Drow slaves fall into the river, swept away by the water. He congratulates many of the gnome militia.
When the battle commanders gather, he only nods. "We did good, but Grimdhal is right. Now comes the bloodbath. We have to engage them at the other bridge, take advantage of whatever hesitation they make there, and then lead them through the maze of streets, ambushing them over and over. Divide the gnomes into squads to strike at the drow forces from different directions. Try to divide them and make them give chase. Ready the bonfires to surprise and daze the dark elves. But never engage them in force. we have to keep falling back through the city."
Reginald cheers less than most, but can't help a smile at their success. Still, his voice is determined. As we planned, yes. Give the signals. Now is the time.
Bali give a cheerless smile as she glares across at the Drow, who are so close. She starts to head towards the bridge and stops, shaking the frustration out. We're ready for them.
"If we don't hurry, we won't be able to beat them to the east bridge. They are stuck on their peninsula where they are now, and that bridge is the only way left off of it right now. We better beat feet to get over there, and hold it while the ambushes are set. Grimdahl is right. 2 to 1 odds mean nothing when ye have a whole army twiddling their thumbs on the other side of the bridge. Lets get over there, hold the drow on their side until the time is right to let them across and draw them into the streets where light and ambush will help us even the odds."
Pravic catches his breath quickly from the brief skirmish and sprint back across the bridge before it's collapse.
Clapping his hand on Grimdahl's shoulder, then each of this other companions in turn, "That tangle spell couldn't have been better placed brother. Nice work. All of ye, truly a fine band of warriors we are. Now lets go etch our names in the halls of this place aside these gnomes here, and hold that bridge!" With that, he rushes off to get to the east bridge before the drow force regroups and makes to enter the northeastern part of the city.
The Fasturvalt militia marches to the bridge, eager to arrive before the drow force. The town east of the the main square had been heavily modified: alleyways and streets clogged with junk or otherwise walled off, piles of mushroom wood stacked at strategic locations, and planks running along rooftops all combined to make it a nightmare for drow urban combat. Harvald quickly separates the militia into small squads, better for harassing and harrying the drow as they tried to push through Stonecutter Street.
As the militia filters back into their positions in the maze, the familiar scent of smoke drifts through the air. Light begins to swell from the southern section of the vault, where the drow army lingers. The buildings on their side of the bridge are on fire. The damp nature of the vault keeps the fire from blazing out of control, but thick black smoke billows from the structures. The cloud begins to drift across the lake.
Damiel, the drow commander, remains atop his lizard. He rides up to the militia, careful to stay out of crossbow range. He shouts to the defenders, his voice straining to be heard above the crackling fires south of the river. "Do you see what comes of your defiance? All of Fasturvalt shall burn!"
Grimdahl nods in acknowledgement of his brother's praise, and flashes a rare grin: "Magic, brother - you should try it one of these days!"
Grimdahl can see little of the opposing force through the smoke, but he knows drow: as a druid, he knows their nature. And it is in the nature of drow to mislead, to hide their intentions.
"He's stalling." the dwarf says bluntly. "If he wants to delay things, then want to get them done. Don't wait for them to finish their plan - strike now, while they wait."
A potentially rash plan, to be sure - but more sensible than waiting for a drow plan to unfold, at least in Grimdahl's view
Bali, seeming more upset by the minute, yells at the Drow, Come over here and try that!
Hearing Grimdahl's words, Bali calms down a bit, still ready for battle.
"One day brother, Torag will see fit to bless me with those powers... Soon I hope." Pravic says, grinning back.
"Aye, if Grim says they are stalling, then we better push their luck. Lord Gernie! We need to push a force across the bridge, press our advantage now! Have Harvald lead a company to hold the bridge in case we need to retreat. In case yer heart is worried about it, know that battle isn't about making sure everything follows the perfect plan on paper, its about pressing the advantage when ye have it. We can always fall back if need be, but if he is stalling over there, then we need to know why!"
Why are they stalling? What do they mean to do?
Pravic furrows his brow as he studies the drow leader and the burning buildings in the distance.
"I agree, the Drow are up to scheming. We can't wait for whatever they're doing to be sprung!"
We need word from the other bridge as well. They could be trying to flank us. Reginald calls a runner over, then casts a spell of communication on him and sends him to get word from the other bridge.
There. Let us strike while the iron is hot!
-Posted with Wayfinder
Lothar held his ground grimly, spear in one hand and a loaded sling clutched tightly in a second meaty fist.
Onward to glory then, comrades?