Midnight: A Lost Faith's Shadow. Book 1, The Awakening. Chapter 1, The Charge

[Toric_Arthendain]

No hope. Valurel saw none. He and his companions were doomed. On top of that, a newcomer had entered the pit, becoming cornered and facing death with the the rest of them. The Orcs were relentless, not hesitating to enter a burial ground. Soon many more dead would litter the ground here. The howls of the Orcs and their blaring horns, combined with the thunder, lightning and rain was enough to make any man grow weak in the knees and soil themselves in the process. He hoped his companions were holding up well enough to go out fighting. He again felt sadness that Aislinn had to go through this and could only hope that her death would be quick when it came.

Upon hearing Reznik's words, Val turned towards the first Orcs to drop into the cave system. Guided by instinct as much as anything, he waits until they were in range and then savagely lashes out with his claws, planning to take out as many of them as possible before he himself goes down.

OOC: If the Orcs close and he is able to make a full attack without having to move more than 5', Valurel will attack with his claws twice. If he has to move more than 5', he will attack once. If able to attack twice, he will still make both attacks on just one Orc.

Init +3
+4/+4 to hit if attacking twice or just one attack at +4 if a bigger than 5' move is required.(before any minuses for darkness)
1d4+5/1d4+5 damage or just 1d4+5 if attacking once.

 

[Krug]

Damn no torch
"Any one has light? Quick! We must know our surrondings!" shouts the Barbarian, taking out a javelin.

 

[Dirigible]

Jon Rane

"It's dark... there're orcs behind me, strangers ahead..."

Jon glanced over his shoulder, seeing the storm-wreathed sky partially occluded by the hulking forms of the orcs. The smell of old meat and fresh sweat was detectable even over the ash and mud of the cave.

"What fun!" Jon laughed, lifting his oak-wood club and backing away from the orcs. We have to lure them into the passage so they can't flank... no, scratch that out, we need to run like the Bale Lord himself was after us.

"You! Ghost!" Jon raises his voice as he glances at the pale figure near him. "Three abreast! Bring a friend! Rearguard holding action... oh, wogren dung, do you even understand me?" Shaking his head, Jon yells back at the rest of the refugees "The rest of you, don't linger! This isn't going to be my last stand, so I can't buy you very many steps!"

Flipping the club into his off hand, Jon reached into his coat pocket and produced a small, knobbly sack. Ripping the frayed threads with his teeth, he spilled its contents of broken glass, jagged flint points, bent nails and various metallic splinters in front of him, hoping that the makeshift caltrops would slow down the orc at least a little when it came time to flee.

Returning his improvised weapon to his good hand, the vagabond uneasily cracked his knuckles and took an involuntary step backwards as the stinking, panting mass of Shadow-soldier bore down on him.

OOC: Init +3, AC 13. Jon spreads the caltrops in the space right in front of him, then takes a 5' step back.​

 

[Toric_Arthendain]

Valurel turns to the newcomer, taking a moment to break free of his animalistic instincts. "I understand you," he hisses in the darkness and then does as he is asked, dropping back to stand next to the club-bearing human. He watches the man drop something from a sack onto the ground in front of them, his eyes going back and forth between the advancing Orcs and the newcomer. Valurel admired the man's courage and confidence, a bit of it rubbing off on him. Did they actually have a chance to survive this? He then fully turns his attention to the Orcs, ready to spring into action if they get into range but also trying to keep abreast with the newcomer so as to provide the others, particularly Aislinn and Kaela, a chance to escape. As difficult as it is, he tries to force his own bloodlust aside for the more ordered way that the newcomer suggests.

 

[Hrothgar]

As the Shadow warriors regain their footing, they raise their voices in a Blood Mother war cry while hefting their heavy vardatches. The first swings at Brian, the metal of the blade whistling by Brian's ear and crashing into the sandstone wall, sparks flying. Brian lashes out wildly, connecting a heavy blow to the orc's thick skull with an audible "crunch". The orc staggers, but readies his vardatch at this unarmed human that carries a lethal sting.

The second Blood Mother howls in rage and pain as it steps on the debris in front of Jon, small pieces of metal punching through its hobnailed boots. Falling to a knee, it still swings its heavy blade at Jon, striking stone but not flesh. Valurel sees his chance, leaping on the Shadow warrior, tearing and clawing. Blood spurts, Valurel snarls, the barbarian roars. Pushing the Erunsil of its massive frame, the orc prepares to cleave the ghost in two.

Behind, two more Shadow warriors come crashing into the fetid cave, slipping in the slick mud.

OOC: State your actions for combat.

 

[Krug]

Starhl takes out his axe, ready to meet the oncoming agressors. In a state of confusion with the melee, he will try to follow the sounds of the combat and swing at the approaching orcs.

 

[Toric_Arthendain]

Valurel snarls at the Orc as it tosses him off. Claws dripping blood and eyes wild like a cornered animal, he lashes out viciously at the already wounded Orc, a savage cry echoing from his throat in the interior of the cave.

OOC: Two attacks at +4 each, 1d4+5 damage per successful hit.

 

[Bobitron]

Kaela pushes Aislinn behind her deeper into the tunnel and turns toward the battle with anger in her eyes. "I won't let you take us!" Her voice sounds unaturally loud in the confines of the earthen hole. She extends her hands and makes a strange motion with her fingers, concentration screwing her face into a mass of lines,

ooc: Cast Sleep on the two further orcs.

 

[Ranger Rick]

As the Shadow warriors regain their footing, they raise their voices in a Blood Mother war cry while hefting their heavy vardatches. The first swings at Brian, the metal of the blade whistling by Brian's ear and crashing into the sandstone wall, sparks flying. Brian lashes out wildly, connecting a heavy blow to the orc's thick skull with an audible "crunch". The orc staggers, but readies his vardatch at this unarmed human that carries a lethal sting.....

Having connected with the beastly orc, Brian regains some of his composure back. A quiet "yesss" escapes from his lips. Again he swings his fist into the next orc that gets within range.

OOC: Unarmed +3 (1d6+2, x2) AC 13

 

[Dirigible]

Jon Rane

His eyes and ears ached from trying to discern what was going on in the seething darkness around him. Screams, the sound of metal on stone, those were clear enough... but why were there no footsteps retreating into the tunnel?

Then he heard someone, a soft-voiced girl, intoning nonsensical words that made his scalp crawl. Lunatic gibberish? Sorcery? What have I gotten myself into? The vagabond wondered. Axemen and witches and pale ghosts... No mere refugees!

"Ahh, I see you've studied from the dwarven school of 'running away when the chance is offered', you ogre-brained louts!" Jon scowled, yelling to make himself heard over the clash of battle. Darting too and fro as best he can in the tight quarters in order to evade the orc's vengeful fury, Jon lashed out clumsily with his cudgel, trying to clack the beast in the temple as it rose.

OOC: Jon fights defensively. AC 15. Club attack: -1, 1d6+1.​