Barok and Dartis
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Dartis' blade sings through the air once more, slashing a gash in the orc directly in front of him, while Swift's hooves finishes it off. Barok takes advantage of the situation and flanks the last orc, but misses. The creature attempts to attack Dartis once more, but misses. Not retreating is the last mistake it ever makes, as the noble and scout quickly dispatch it the next round.
As Dartis is cleaning his blade, a large number of quickly armed militia under Radnal's direction make it into your intersection with wagons, carts, and barrels that they begin to quickly tip over and stack into barricades. "Hurry up!" The man yells to his men, his face calm but determined. "They'll be coming back and more organized."
You look around and notice that you aren't so far away from the town square, after all. That fleeing mob must have slowed you down, and you turned away the chaotically charging orc elements and gave them something to think about. Radnal and the militia and guards that are following his direction have made two circular defenses. One outer one that you are at, and an inner fall back position around the town square.
Suddenly, Cal Dorin rides up to your position with a squad of cavalry. "Damn it, Radnal, open a path!"
Kyle Radnal looks stunned at this request, "Are you mad? This isn't open field combat! Those orcs will cut you and your men down in those streets."
Impatient and angry, Cal looks down upon the man, his sword on his pommel. "I know who your family was, Kyle. Your father was a traitor. Would you add to your tainted family crest?" His men begin to dismount to clear a path for their horses.
Radnal reaches for his own sword, when all parties are stopped by the sound of blaring war horns. The orcs are returning.
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Nikolos, Ventus, and Danica
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The last orc attempts to run, but Ventus cuts him down. Danica comes back from the side street, with her crossbow empty and a look of grim satisfaction.
With great relief, the families on the roof begin to climb back down from the open upper windows of the manor. Suddenly, one of the last little children gasps and yells, "Oh no, my dolly!"
Her mother yells, "Karen, stop!"
Before anyone can stop her the little girl begins to run up the inside stairs. Danica sighs and rolls her eyes impatiently before chasing the girl. There will be no escorting the families with one of the children missing.
Ventus and Nikolos follow Danica in her chase. They notice that there are sleeping bags throughout most of the house, the result of too many Dorinthians and not enough room to house them all. Pushing such thoughts out, they focus on finding the youth.
The girl grabs a doll in one of the rooms on the upper floors near the windows. As the group reaches her to bring her outside, they realize that the house allows an excellent vantage point of the surrounding area. To the southern edge of town, you see several lights and what looks to be Dorinthian civilians and militia crouched near each other for protection by a small creek and some houses. In the center of the town it looks like barricades are being set up by more militia, guards, and cavalry.
To the north, and on a hill you see a series of torch lights and what looks to be two large groups of men moving out from underneath the illumination. One group heads for the center of town, while another looks as if it is flanking around.
From those torches, you hear once more the sound of war horns.[/sblock]
Silas and Caramip
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As the two of you are contemplating your next action in regards to the now unconscious orc, you hear war horns in the distance. A wail grows from the crowd behind you, and the large number of militia men among the people grip their weapons tightly. There isn't anywhere else for a large crowd to go, since a deep and wide creek blocks movement to the south. It might be possible to march back into the center of the town, but stragglers may easily become separated and you are beginning to hear the gutteral language of enraged orcs coming near. At best guess, you have over one hundred armed men to defend nearly two thousand civilians huddled in a few hastily built refugee shacks and in an open field filled with tents. Luckily, the creek gives you some defense to your flanks and rear, but it may also bottle you up for the slaughter.
To flee with the crowd would mean that some would be caught and killed. Many would be slaughtered. But how can these militia spearmen give an adequate defense? Most of them aren't true soldiers. They're a pack of leaderless boys and old men.
"We must run. We can flee into the woods!"
"Have the children hide in the bushes. Maybe they won't be found."
"It's going to be every man for himself, I say."
"By the Rider, what are we to do?"
Panic seems to have gripped the crowd around you.
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