Last Stand of the Dorinthians (Chapter 4- The Second Invasion)

[Deuce Traveler]

Dartis and Barok
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Dartis and Barok find that the rows of attacking orcs are too thick, and that they are not likely to traverse both the attackers and barricades safely enough to bring all their men through. Another surprise also decides that getting too close to the orc lines is not the best option... the Dorinthian archers are firing once again, and a cloud of arrows erupts from Silas' forces and into the mass of orcs behind the barricade. What is more, orbs of darkness begin to cover the front ranks of attackers, spreading confusion among the barbaric warriors. This is sowed further by Dartis' attack. Your riders drive close to the orc ranks, firing arrows into the globes of darkness before riding into side streets and attacking once more. You are able to make three passes this way while avoiding increasing patrols of orcs that are beginning to be sent to impede your progress. As Dartis yells, Dul-Keyar, his cry is echoed among the orcs being shot up inside the magical darkness.

"Dul-Keyar, Dul-Keyar!" A ripple of fear erupts among the invaders. Partially blinded, while being shot by arrows from either side, the orc attack begins to falter against Silas' defenses.

While resting a moment at a side street one of the fighters asks Dartis, "Why were you yelling 'The Rider' in orcish tongue?" When Dartis explains where he heard that word the man chuckles. "So you made a one in a million shot, and the orcs thought you were The Hunter come to save the Dorinthians. They always have had a fear of our god."

One of the learned paladins nods. "It is said that the orcs almost defeated our people when we were still men of the plains and steppes, before the coming of the first king Dorin. Then came The Rider to save our people, like he had done in many dark times before and since." The paladin's expression and tone changes, as if he were reciting from scripture: "Know that long ago our people saw doom on the fields of northern ice. Many proud tribesmen and fay allies fell that day to stop the orcish invaders at their source. Among mounds of the slain, The Great Chief looked to the heavens and cried out for the fate of his people. Suddenly, there came the sound of mighty hooves thundering across the tundra. The Rider came that day, as he had before in dark times, and became known to orc and elf. He rode his great charger, cloaked, dark, and terrible and where fell his gaze fell death."
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Ventus, Nikolos, and Danica
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Despite Nikolos' shout, the orc disappears back behind the attackers' side of the barricades before Ventus or Danica can react.

Ventus and his men push back the orcs, but it is quickly becoming apparent that there are not enough armed people to hold the entire outer ring of defenses. Radnal moves more and more men to form a half-crescent against the invaders, but Nikolos is detecting increasing thoughts of the demoralized orcs that indicate they plan to try to circle around and find a weak spot in the defenses. Danica begins suggesting a general pull-back to the inner ring.
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Silas and Caramip
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The orcs break through and fill the top of the barricades while howling a shout of bloodlust. Silas finds men falling all around him, he himself facing two orcs with victory in their eyes. It is at that moment that a small cloud of arrows rains towards him, and the abjurer for a moment fears that the orcs have their own bowmen. Instead, the arrows fall onto the orcs on the other side of the barricade. They're Dorinthian arrows! The invaders look around in confusion at first, then terror as Caramip appears. She disobeyed Silas' order to flee and instead orders the archers to line up and fire, her drumbeats delivering a rythm that is followed by volley after volley.

The orcs on the barricades die by arrows fired from either side, and their attack is halted as the gnome drives her wand of darkness through spaces in the barricades, causing the invaders to have to fight partially blind. (Uses 10 charges, but entire attackers front ranks is shrouded in darkness). Silas only has 60 men left on his front line that are able to put up and kind of fight, but the orcs stop their assault and a cry of fear is heard among them: "Dul-Keyar, Dul-Keyar!". Whatever that means...
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[Nephtys]

"Well, General," Barok jumps off the horse, "Good work and all that, but I'm about as useful to the cause as a piece of luggage right now. And since we can't get trough the orc lines, and it doesn't look like we can get the people out, I think we're all better off if I go slit some throats. I'd rather die if my death could make some difference. That is, if you don't mind."
He turns, and if noone speaks to stop him, walks stealthily about the alleyways looking for enemy spellcasters or officers to kill. If he doesn't find any who are not in the midsts of a large force of orcs he makes his way towards the orc supply camp, hoping to cause a distraction for the army.

ooc: He walks more or less a straight line in the opposite direction the orcs passed, assuming that the orc commander is coordinating the enemies actions from somewhere behind the lines. He hopes that there is a supply camp (the orcs need somewhere to keep the food, luggage and women they might have brought with the army, and rl armies almost always did), and hopes that setting fire to it (yea, I know, that's my solution to everything ) will hurt the morale of the attackers.

 

[GlassEye]

Silas slumps as the orcish assault is broken. Exhausted physically and mentally he slicks back hair damp with sweat and blood and begins moving among the men he was fighting with. He says a low word to one, claps another on the arm in camaraderie gained from fighting together in battle, kneels to close the eyes of one young Dorinthian staring lifelessly at the sky. Standing again, he sees Caramip, catches her eye, and bows to the gnomish woman in an inadequate expression of his gratitude. "Thank you." Unable to say anything more he stares at the fallen that surround him.

 

[Blarkon Dragonslayer]

Nikolos shakes his head as the orc vanishes, and then thumps Ventus on the shoulder. "I'm off to see Cal Dorin. Be safe." With that, he makes his way to the prince, after casting Longstrider on himself to get a bit more speed out of his pudgy person.
"Your highness...I urge you to get as many of your archers mounted and together as possible. The orcs are going to start trying to probe for weak points, and given how few footmen there are, only your horsemen can move fast enough to crush the probes before they become dangerous. I urge...no I beg you, to get your men together, as many as you can, and be ready to strike at the probes, or counterattack.

 

[Bloodweaver1]

Caramip Ashhearth

“It’s no fuss hun! I love a good game of ‘Marco-Polo’.” Smiles the energetic Gnome. However, deep down, she knows that she is no different than some of the scared men that are giving thier lives for their loved ones. She longs for this to be over so she can walk over to some dark corner and break down into tears. Recording large battles, that is what she loves to do, not fighting in them. Maintaining her calm and cheerful façade, for her sake and the men, she looks towards the Orc Horde and then back to Silas. With smile she says, “Just like the battle of Rock Springs.” Ignoring the confused looks she begins to elaborate, “The Darkness is confusing but it won’t hold them forever. During the war, a Dorithian force used the cover of the night to conceal their numbers from a much large Imperial force. Their tactic was simple. They used the night’s darkness and their bows to cause confusion within the Imperial ranks. And you know what? It worked. It worked so well that they were able to mount a counter offensive and drive the Imperial force away. Saving thousands of innocents.” She pauses and lets the mood of her story sink in to whom ever is listening. “You must lead such a counter attack.” She whispers to Silas.

 

[GlassEye]

The surprise is clear for all to see as it crosses Silas' face. He looks around at the devastation surrounding him and begins to speak, "I don't..." Breaking off he just looks at the little gnome, Caramip, the woman whose joking words masked a wisdom he likely would never have guessed existed if this day hadn't happened. He nods abruptly and takes a deep breath. Whispering in kind, he says, "I don't know what I'm doing, but I trust you already know that." He grins at Caramip, though he feels anything but happy at the moment.

Taking another deep breath, standing a little taller, Silas begins to speak to the Dorinthians around him, "Dorinthians..." He looks at the men who are weary and injured yet still standing, locking eyes with some, "Simeon... Karril... I know you are hurt and tired. I am, too. But I can't rest until my family is safe. Safe to live here in the town we've built with our own hands. Safe to live free from the threats of others. Time is running out. We need to break this threat now. To keep our families safe."

Silas hardly dares to breath as he waits for the reaction of the people around him...

 

[Fenris]

"Well, General," Barok jumps off the horse, "Good work and all that, but I'm about as useful to the cause as a piece of luggage right now. And since we can't get trough the orc lines, and it doesn't look like we can get the people out, I think we're all better off if I go slit some throats. I'd rather die if my death could make some difference. That is, if you don't mind."

"Not at all Barok, contribute as you can. Our ways of war are differnt but no less values to our people." replies Dartis wishing the protection of the Rider upon Barok as he slips off into the shadows.

Turning to his horsemen. "Well enough rest, let's get back out there while those beasts are still confused. Seeing the confusion it sowed, let us all cry 'Dul-Keyar', and truly reap death among the orcs. For Dorinthia!"

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Dartis
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Your troops continue their harrassment of the orcs, crying out 'Dul-Keyar' while doing little overall harm, but sowing great confusion and fear. That's when you see a sight that lightens your heart. The civilians and militia members that were pinned by the orcs suddenly rise over the barricades and come crashing down upon the confused invaders. This is enough to finally break the orcs, which begin to flee back from whence they came. Your men ride down stragglers as they unite with the southern defenses, and you can see the worn but smiling Silas and Caramip in the lead.
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Silas and Caramip
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With a grim and determined look, the remaining militia take up their weapons once more. There is a job to do, and the abjurer's words motivate them to finish this part of the battle. These few are not left alone, and old men, lads in their early teens, and women whose husbands are fighting for their lives in the center of town all pick up some of the weapons left over by fallen orcs and men. Silas is reminded that these are Dorinthians, their entire history one of almost continuous war with either an external enemy or each other.

Following the lead of the abjurer and gnome, the mass of militia and civilians roar as one as the scramble over the battlements and into the mass of confused orcs below. Since the front orc ranks were being reinforced with the rear ranks, there is some resistance, although brief and violent as the invaders lose the momentum from the surprise attack. Caramip can see that the force he has been engaged with was mostly comprised of young orcs, and their will to continue the struggle snaps under the onslaught. The force flees from you, scattering and running back from whence it came. During this, a small group of ten horsed Dorinthian archers finishes off the stragglers and comes to join you. It is led by a smiling Dartis, who looks relieved that you are safe.
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Silas, Dartis, and Caramip
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You meet in front of the southern defenses, while a victory cry rises from both the small group of horse archers under Dartis and the thousands of saved civilians under Silas. Most of Silas' militia has been wounded or killed, but a number of women, young teenagers, and old men have taken up weapons to strengthen his ranks.

As you congratulate each other, however, you can see that the main Dorinthian military force is falling back from its outer defenses and into the last ring of interior barricades.
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Ventus, Nikolos, and Danica
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Cal has been anxious to take the fight to the enemy, and at Nikolos' prodding he rides up to take command of the front ranks from Ventus and orders a general counter-attack. With a yell the men surge over the barricades, surprising the demoralized orcs and stopping their encircling movement. Your forces catch the orcs by surprise, and the immediate gains by the Dorinthians are impressive. Still, you are heavily outnumbered, and the counter-attack begins to grind to a halt thirty yards past the outer barricades. The orcs begin to use their numbers to push back, and in the open the Dorinthians begin to take heavier casualties. Radnal realizes that the line cannot hold and catches up to Cal. After a brief discussion they agree to pull back to the interior defenses where they can consolidate their forces better.

Ventus takes some men and acts as a rear guard, buying enough time once back over the barricades and behind the outer defenses to buy the time to get almost all the men to safety. Danica takes control of the archers and leads a walking, yet firing retreat. The orcs don't pursue the retreating Dorinthians as hard as they could, most likely because of the shock of the counter-attack. Nikolos helps the wounded where he can to get back up and to the safety of the interior defenses, but in his doing so nearly becomes separated from the rest of the Dorinthians. The cleric knows what will happen to stragglers once the orcs reach them, yet the rough hands of Kyle Radnal grab him by the arms, "Leave them, priest! We need your skills for those that may survive!" As Radnal pulls him away, Nikolos looks into the man's stern face and knows that he finds the situation as wretched as Nikolos feels it is. Pulling the priest over the interior defenses, Radnal tells him, "It was a good plan, priest. We may not have won that little skirmish, but it did bloody their nose and buy us time enough to retreat to our stronger defenses. Now we got to bleed them out some more before trying it again."

Two sights give heart to the worn defenders. First, it appears that the southern attack on the civilians on the inlet has been broken. Second, Baron Dorin appears in armor and a bow in hand despite the protests of his concerned son, Cal. "I'm not here to command, I just want to help," the balding noble says in an almost embarrassed manner.
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Barok
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You travel through dark streets and by burning houses, making your way up north and into the hills where it seems that orcs are moving back and forth from. Occasionally you see what you think might be a messenger heading towards or away from the main force besieging the center of the town. Your blade ensures that some of those messengers never reach their destination. On one of the closer, tall hills you can see a campfire, and what looks to be a series of banners and tents. Following the trees and shrubs, you get close enough to see the center of the camp and several large, older orcs watching the battle in silence. They don't seem happy with the way it is going, and from your hidden area you can see that the southern defenses with the civilians on the inlet have routed the orc forces. On the other hand, the central defenses have fallen back to their interior lines after a failed counter-attack of their own.

Suddenly, you hear movement from the brush near you as something stealthily moves in your direction. Thinking that a scout may have discovered your location, you ready your blade. The sneak stops near you, but not close enough to get in the path of your strike and whispers, "Your name is Barok, isn't it? I must say, I barely saw you sneak up this way. You're pretty good. What are you thinking you can accomplish up here, anyway? There is no way you can assassinate that chieftain from here if that's what's on your mind." In the darkness you can barely make out his form, but from its shape and the voice you can tell it's Rix, the kobold adventurer that was badly injured and brought back safely.
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[Nephtys]

Barok
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You travel through dark streets and by burning houses, making your way up north and into the hills where it seems that orcs are moving back and forth from. Occasionally you see what you think might be a messenger heading towards or away from the main force besieging the center of the town. Your blade ensures that some of those messengers never reach their destination. On one of the closer, tall hills you can see a campfire, and what looks to be a series of banners and tents. Following the trees and shrubs, you get close enough to see the center of the camp and several large, older orcs watching the battle in silence. They don't seem happy with the way it is going, and from your hidden area you can see that the southern defenses with the civilians on the inlet have routed the orc forces. On the other hand, the central defenses have fallen back to their interior lines after a failed counter-attack of their own.

Suddenly, you hear movement from the brush near you as something stealthily moves in your direction. Thinking that a scout may have discovered your location, you ready your blade. The sneak stops near you, but not close enough to get in the path of your strike and whispers, "Your name is Barok, isn't it? I must say, I barely saw you sneak up this way. You're pretty good. What are you thinking you can accomplish up here, anyway? There is no way you can assassinate that chieftain from here if that's what's on your mind." In the darkness you can barely make out his form, but from its shape and the voice you can tell it's Rix, the kobold adventurer that was badly injured and brought back safely.
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"The party was getting dull down there, and I thought the Orcs might have better booze. They like the strong stuff, don't they, the kind that burns..." he smiles at the kobold. "You've been up here longer than I have, do you know the weak points of their camp? Where they keep their food, drink and draft animals, their wounded, their women and children? If we can cause a distraction there we could throw this camp, and that army down there, into a panic and buy our people victory."

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Barok
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Rix moves closer so that the two of you can observe the encampment while being able to speak in quieter voices. He tugs at his dark goggles absentmindedly. "Actually, I haven't been here long. I thought I had seen large forces of movement coming towards the town before they struck and decided that you humans were done for. Ummm... speaking of which, I hope Danica is alright. I... umm... I figured I'd escape to the local kobold tribe, which had been trading with the Dorinthians ever since we came to this place. And guess what I found... the idiot leader of theirs was negotiating with the orcs to help pillage the place in exchange for giving aid during the attack. Luckily for us, the orcs figured him for a weakling and killed him and his second right then and there. I ran into a small tribe both angry and leaderless... and I'm kind of in charge of them right now. I'm not sure if this is such a good thing, since I got to consider them a pack of fools. Can you imagine, siding with orcs for quick profit when they had a good thing going with open trade and a settled life? The humans welcomed them, damn it all!" Rix spits in confused frustration and you wonder how much his time with humans has changed this humanoid's outlook. He might not have belonged to the human community, but he definitely was no true kobold.

"Anyway, just on the other side of this hill I have a few dozen very angry fellow kobolds with a score to settle. Some wanted to try hit and run tactics, while others were for trying the ridiculous and near-futile, like rolling large rocks at the orcs as if I had some boulders in a back pocket. They are desperate for revenge, but I told them to wait and let me check this out in order to find a weak spot and a decent plan. And now you come with the simple idea of setting the camp on fire... brilliant. And my kin have the supplies to do it, the rage to help, and the craftiness to get close to that series of supply wagons and tents ringing this camp. So let's do this, Barok. We all have our personal reasons to wreck hell this day."
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