Roak stands tall on the platform, where the orcs can see his well muscled, armored form. He slowly swings Widow's Lament through a complicated attack routine, hoping to intimidate the orcs so that they will be more hestitant once the reach the wall.
Ewan places himself in the southeastern corner of the southwestern tower. Putting all the orcs along the south in range of his bow. While Roak begins his pre-battle exercises, Ewan sights in on any orc archers or officers he can spot.
As those members on the wall begin to brace themself for the coming assualt, they notice most of the enemy gathering once again against the main gate and entry.
Roak can only roll his eyes and shrug. "Cowards," he says, clapping Nijel on the shoulder. "They are frightened of us. They remember only too well our earlier meeting."
Nijel Bladesong, AC20/FF20/T10 HP62/62 +11to hit,+5 dam
"Aye, 't'would seem so! Shall we go to meet them at the gate and give them the warmest welcome that we can?" Nijel lovingly strokes the blade of his axe as he says this.
Nay, lads. Our duty is here, Padraig argues. We must not abandon our posts, no matter what glory seems to be ready for the taking elsewhere. What if it is a feint, and this wall is the target of a different assault. If we are not here to repel it, all may be lost.
As if his words were prophetic, Padraig then observes perhaps a full company of ogiers with ladders exiting the forest edge and making way towards the party position.
Okay three rounds of missel or other actions before they arrive....