Swift smiles as she looks at the 2 men and Ovo "Oh, yes, if I need to sneak into where they are, I am good at sneaking and I can do this" She suddenly shifts into a fox and jumps up onto a wall to look around.

Ovo checks the perimeter.  The fortification is on a hill, so there are no real trenches around the outside wall.   Instead, they are slopes that drop off quickly, about a hundred and twenty feet into the narrow valley on the west side, and more on the east, as it slopes down to the Meuse.

From the wall, they have a good view.

From up in the Dawnsinger tree, they have a much better view.

The battle is all around the perimeter of Namaco.  They can see to the north, beyond the Sambre river, the great warbeasts- magically grown and mutated versions of boars, as big as houses.  The hill out there, a mile away, is heavily defended, not by Elves, but by Humans.  The party recalls the banners; they saw plenty of them on the walls at Bruxzella.  It is the army of Duke Ambric, the soldiers that left the city before the Huns even arrived.  They see one of the warbeasts stumble and fall.

There is fighting to the north, the west, and the south now.. but its hard to see what's happening in the south, as terrain and trees block the view there.

The most disturbing thing is the scene on the Sambre River about a mile west of Namaco.  Even from here, the river is visibly frozen over.  It is a mass of white ice, here and there a pocket of gray, gleaming in the winter sun.  And Huns are swarming across it.  The frozen river is no obstacle them, and it doesn't look like any serious defense has formed to block them.

Given the speed and distance, the "hour or two" warning is clearly optimistic.  If they come towards the hill, now, they'll reach the west slope in about a half an hour or so.

Some of the Elves take to the branches and platforms of the Dawnsinger tree.  Most Elven trees have multiple connections to other trees, a great treetop network of ropeways, bridges, and catwalks.  But at the top of Citadel Hill, their tree is alone and unconnected.  If the Huns get here, they could be isolated, trapped in their tree.

"There is no more retreat," Ziool says to Swift.  "If they take this hill, the river will be a trap.  A few, I could get out through the rainbow.  But for so many here... this is the final place.  I should join with your bow, now.  It will help.  Your arrows will cut through magical defenses.  Good luck, Swift.  I cannot speak to you when I have joined with something, but I hope to speak to you again soon."

Looking at the Elves here, there is a sense that they understand this.  They know it, and at the same time, it worries them, for fighting from a fixed position like this, an all-or-nothing defense, is not their way.  A few of the Halflings, a race known for keeping up good cheer in dark times, make the rounds, offering food and drink and smiles to anyone who seems depressed.

The dwarf now looked at Swift... the fox! His eyes wide and he chuckled.

"You'd make ah excellent scout I'd say. Mayhaps we should start our defense o' this city down their then retreat back here when the Hun's numbers grow too great. Wot think ye all?"

The dwarf touched his cloak "Ne'er fear lads n' lassies, this here cloak gives me speed enough to keep up wi' ye all."

Bulwyf raises an eyebrow at Swifts change, "That's amazing!" Bulwyf looks at the fox carefully, then back to the dwarf, "I agree, though I would hate to send her into harms way alone." concern clear in his voice, "Or any of us, only one mistake and you are alone against the Hun army." A small smile creases the big rangers face, "It warms my heart to see all of us here, banded together. This will not be pretty, it will not be fun. I can assure you, the Huns, those left alive, will NEVER forget this day." his charisma showing, the attempt, obviously, to raise moral. He offers the halflings smiles of gratitude as well.

Swift turns back into a woman and grins "It is an easy way to sneak around and move quickly."

She looks out to the West "Look, they are coming, we have to be ready. Ziool I am ready to fight with you" and she did see it as a partnership, the two of them working together.

The estimates of "How long do we have?" keeps shrinking, as the Elves and the party track the fighting around Namaco from the tree tops and other vantage points.

They spot Theoderic's forces, mostly horse cavalry, pushing in from the west, along the Sambre river.  It looks like a fierce fight but it is far... but they see the bright flash of magical lightning.

Cheerfully colored lightning, the trademark attack of Aelasuria.

Suddenly, the time remaining drops to "Here they come!"- the Huns have something.. or things.. that fly, apparently, and they are headed straight for the southwest side of the CItadel, the area of the Dawnsinger tree.

In the distance, but closing rapidly, they can see more than a dozen large bird-like things in the air, with the heads of giant vultures.  Carrying other humanoids in their claws below them.  And above them, something that at first looks like some kind of giant blue-white insect, but with a humanoid body and a long scaled tail.  Head to toe it is 10 feet long, and the great wings, which look like sheets of ice, are 20 feet tip to tip.

It looks like the prelude to a ground attack, because the forces on their way on the ground are still advancing.



(the characters are not yet positioned on the map.  They have time- you can tell me where you want them to be.  At the moment the flying intruders are still off the map to the west, but they are moving in quickly.)

 

Ovo pointed toward the things flying toward them.

"That'll be our first threat! Those o' ye that have enchanted bows or arrows should shoot at the insect thing. The rest o' the elves n' halflings, let's see if'n we kin take down those vultures. Mayhaps while we got their full attention, those owls kin swoop down from the top or behind 'em?"

"OK, I will go for the buggy things. Lets take them down. " She stands close to a building so it would provide some cover as she got an arrow ready in her bow. She hated fighting like this but it was what they where dealt and had to deal with it.

Bulwyf would be close to the steps, but when the vultures show up, he grabs a bow and starts firing with everyone else.

Both the Elves and the Halflings are skilled with missile weapons, and the vulture things fly into a barrage of well aimed arrows and stones.  A few drop their passengers and turn and flee, some are shot out of the sky.  Only a couple actually manage to land their passengers in the fortress- and these are Orcs, but they look like the toughest, most skilled and experienced of Orcs.

The flying monster is another matter entirely.  It is hit a couple of times, but it is not slain.  It sets down on a platform in the treehouse, and makes short work of the Elves there.  It conjures a powerful blast of cold- not a breath weapon, it seems to come from the creatures outstretched arms, which carry a big spear.  It is attacking the tree itself- leaves and branches are blown off in the cold wind.

Watching from below, the Elves are horrified.  Normal arrows seem to have no effect on the thing.


 

"OK Ziool, lets see what we can do that big monster. Normal arrows don't seem to bother it." She aims and fires her arrow at the thing.

(ooc- Today: Swift rolled 24 using 1d20+7. arrow. )

Bulwyf sees the monster land and start it's attack, there are orcs between him and the beast, so he moves to attack them, both his swords ready to reign blows on them, anger building inside him as he rushes the two orcs.

Alara braces herself, more than ready to get back into the fight. That creature attacking the tree won't be brought down by normal weapons, but with wings and the unkind - and unnatural - ice magic, no melee weapon is going to touch it. Not unless it has a reason to leave the tree and face a bigger threat...

Sword in hand, she joins Bulwyf in charging the two orcs, giving a loud battlecry as she does.

The Elves are not powerless against this intrusion.  One of them scrambles to read from a scroll, hastily unrolling and reading the incantation in a dialect of Old Elven, a tongue infused with words and inflections from Celestial.  The Elf gestures towards one of the owls while reading it, and a softly sparkling aura envelopes the owl for a moment.  It flies towards the Demon.

Energy infuses Swift’s arrow- multicolored, every changing energy, that seems to change in type moment to moment as it changes in color.  It’s blue and cold, then red and hot, then green, with a strangely nauseating feel coming from it.  And it flies and hits the Demon.  The Demon likes this even less.  Where the arrow struck, it seems to burn for a moment, and it leaves a great blackened scar.  The creature turns from its destruction of the Dawnsinger tree and its inhabitants, and with a great leap hurls itself through the branches.  It lands near Swift, and even as it comes down a blast of unearthly cold spreads out from it.  The Elf nearest Swift backs away, in pain.

But this time it is Swift’s armor that manifests a range of colors and energies, and settles on a dim red, as if it has decided this is the one.  Swift does not feel the cold.

The Elves and Halflings have driven off the remaining vulture things.  They have lost many, and the survivors see no reason to stick around.  They  retreat rapidly.

The two Orcs at the south side of the citadel look astonished as Bulwyf  and Alara attack.  They had expected the subtle attacks of Elves, more finesse, less sheer bruising power.  They seem unready for such a display of aggression and strength, as if thinking they are supposed to be the ones doing that.

Bulwyf knocks one back and injures it, and Alara is able to finish it before it can react.  And then there is one...

The two Elves there, suddenly backed by a trio of their owl allies, tell Alara and Bulwyf they can take the other… the Demon is the real problem.

Bulwyf snarls with rage, hiw twin swords going to work on the second orc, "We have to get to that creature, my sword is blessed by Apollo himself, it will hurt it!" he was determined to help Swift in this fight.

Ovo saw the demon fighting Swift and the other elves! The dwarf gave a war cry and hefted his axe. Then the dwarf realized the well crafted weapon held no magic and would be useless. So the dwarf bull rushed it instead, trying his best to take one of its two legs out from under it.

"For Theoderic and Aelasuria!" he cried!

Swift stumbles back as the thing lands. She might not take any damage but it made her move. As she tries to fire another arrow at the thing, she is nto sure it will hit.

(ooc-Today: Swift rolled 10 using 1d20+7. bow. )

The single lone Orc facing Alara and Bulwyf is far above average for an Orc, but he is grossly overmatched.  Elves, Owl, Alara, Bulwyf... it is too much.  They take him down shortly, freeing them to join the fight with the demon.

There are plenty of available warriors, but a serious shortage of weapons that will hurt the Infernal Being.

An Elf sees his arrows glance off uselessly.  He turns to a Halfling, and asks; "Will one of your cheese bombs work?"

The Halfling shakes his head.  ""On that thing?  Where that thing's from, they eat more powerful cheeses spread on crackers. Won't hurt it a bit."

But another Halfling, standing nearby, thinks of something.  "We do have one ball of the Holy Moldy," he says.

"The what?"  asks the Elf.

"The Sacred Blue!" the first Halfling explains excitedly.  "Cheese that's been fermented in the brine vat of Rumina, demigoddess of dairy products."

"You folk actually have a demigoddess of dairy products?"  the amazed Elf asks.

"Comes in handy, I'll tell you,"  the Halfling replies.

Swift has little success with her bow, even with the aid of Ziool.  But the demon, having been stung once by that bow, advances on Swift...


Only to be suddenly blindsided by a charging Dwarf.

The Demon is as mentally off balance as it is physically off balance.  Nobody does that.  Nobody rams into Demons.  Especially not mortals.  It's just one of those things, that as a supernatural embodiment of ultimate evil, you simply don't prepare for.  Rage overtakes sensible planning.  There are probably more effective things the Demon could do, but instead it tears at Ovo with its frozen claws, giving him a deep, painful gouge.

Above, the enchanted owl, shimmering with Celestial might, tears into the Demon's shoulder.

Alara puts on as much speed as she can, unable to keep from giving a grim grin. She's fought demons before, but she'd be damned if her demon fighting days are over.

She'll attack from the other side, making sure the demon is attacked on all sides. As ... interesting ... as the idea of a holy cheese bomb is, sometimes a good sword arm is more than enough.

Bulwyf, orc blood dripping from his very face from the splatter, charges as fast as he can. Both swords ready to teach lessons, the sword of Appollo being of immediate use, the water sword would take a minute, he thought anyway.

"Push the fight! Don't let up! Ovo, fight! You can do it!" he shouts seeing the dwarf take a hit, and a bad one from the looks of it, only reaffirms Bulwyf's desire to slay this beast, once he's within range he will activate the swords ability to produce a bright, painful light for the demon, hoping to draw it's attention.

Ovo staggered back, visibly hurt by the demon's strike. The dwarf just shook his head to clear it.

"That all ye got?" the dwarf smiled grimly.

Ovo then stomped hard with his booted foot upon the demon's toes. Just keep the demon's attention on him and over power its senses. This would give Bulwyf and Alara time to arrive and take the heat off the owl and Swift.

"I'm down here frostbite!" Ovo shouted!

Swift was about to run but could tell she hurt it. She had to keep firing at it. She pulls 2 quick arrows and fires them at the things. It might fall on her but she is quick enough to dodge it, she hopes.

Occ- 22:23, Today: Swift rolled 17 using 1d20+7. 2nd att.
22:23, Today: Swift rolled 24 using 1d20+7. 1st att.

One of the Halflings unwraps a small round pale looking cheese from a piece of purple velvet.  He begins breaking off pieces, and using a sling to hurl them at the Demon.  When they hit, they vanish into glittery smoke, and the Demon seems to flinch in pain with each morsel of cheese.

The Demon unleashes a torrent of bitter, biting cold, first at Ovo, and then at everyone in front of it.  It puts all its Infernal strength into it, and it is freezing wind, like something blowing from the lost glaciers of the coldest depths of the Abyss.  In the Gazebo, defenders drop one by one, unable to stand against the terrible cold.  Frost engulfs them.

Ovo tries to get close enough for another attack, but it’s too dangerous.  He’s pushed back by the icy wind.  The enchanted Owl is struck to, and in a moment it goes spirally down towards the ground.

Swift seems protected.  The colorful aura of her armor flares orange and red in the face of the attack, and its warmth counters the Demon’s cold.  The others in the Gazebo huddle behind her, too cold to do anything else.

Alara races in from behind the Demon, and her sword cuts into it.

A moment later, so does an arrow from Swift.

And then the Demon meets the sword blessed by Apollo, a god of the sun.  The sword’s power seems as if it was made to defeat this creature.  The light from Bulwyf’s sword becomes a white sun-fire when Bulwyf cuts into the Demon.

It is besieged on all sides, and overwhelmed.  The multiple weapons rip into it, and in a few moments it falls, and rapidly begins to melt.

"That's a darn good cheese," the Halfling warrior says.

There are some moments for the catching of breath, but it isn't over.

There is a call from one of the Elves by the south stairs.

”They’re coming up!” the Elf shouts.  “Fifty or more!”

Swift takes a deep breath and runs over to the wall the elf said more where coming up.  She readies an arrow as she looks for a target.

Bulwyf bellows a mighty cry of victory over the demon, then he hears the elf shout his warning. He races towards the stairs, swords in his hands, adrenaline rushing through his body. The fight was on, he was in his element. It was time to stop the Huns. It was time to get things done.