Agatha charges in, catching the large fomorian on the shoulder as he's lifting his huge club, sending a chunk of flesh and a spray of blood skywards. He howls as an arrow imbeds itself under his shoulderblade. He doesn't appear to be impressed, laughing wildly as one of the puny humans attepts to stick him with a spear and fails. He whirls his greatclub about , choosing between targets.
The sweet sound of the bard singing gives you all courage, and one of the smaller fomorians sinks into a magical slumber.