Swift shoots… and other archers join in, but the ‘shield Orcs’ do their job, and they take the hits, not the Ogre behind them.  The arrows, with Swift’s arrows being charged with the brilliant energy of the Prismatic Fey, are enough to drop one of the front line Orcs, and several more from further back in the pack, but not enough to stop this last assault of the Huns.

The Huns reveal another of their secrets- the Halflings were not the only ones to bring flame weapons.  The Huns toss what look like small balls of fire up into the tree.  They don’t burst like a fireball or a cheese bomb, and they affect a much small area, but they do not extinguish, either.  Where they land, they burn fiercely.

A few more are tossed at the Spire building, too.

The last of the Hun force arrives at the doors, and the Ogre rams the nearest door.
The whole building seems to shudder with the force of the blow.  The crossbar on the door cracks, and cracks spread up and down the door.  A portrait falls from a wall. It is clear the door will not withstand another blow like that.

”There is magic to this,” one of the Elves says.  “Even an Ogre is not so strong.”

Further away, a smaller group arrives at another set of doors, and sets to work on it using cunning instead of brute force.

Pole axes and spears break through the building's graceful windows, but they are positioned too high to be used as easy access points.  A pair of halflings use the "double up" method, one Halfling on the other's shoulders, to defend at one window.

 

Alara glances between the battle and the still-burning flames. There's magic at work here, she scowls, then chants soft and low under her breath, into her open palm. If it's magic that aids them, then maybe magic can stop them. Within moments, she's holding something like a snowball in her gloved hand.

From inside the building, there's not much of the fire that she can see, but if there's a window on the wall (near D1-14), she'll fling the snowball at the flames, to see if that will help to smother the fire.

Whether it extinguishes the flames or not, at least they'll know what needs to be done to keep the tree and buildings from burning. With that done, she readies her sword and strikes as best she can at the Orcs and the Ogre.

Spell cast: Lesser Orb of Frost

Bulwyf simply paces, clutching his swords, there is little he can do with the magic defense, and unless it stops the door from shattering, then he needs to be ready... he was. This enhanced Ogre was going to die. The orcs shielding him were going to die. He'd made his mind up, there would be blood this day, and he'd die before he saw his friends hurt.

Swift rushes to fire 2 more arrows, knowing one was not a good shot. Damn, how could she miss that ogre. she is not sure if both will hit as she fired quickly.


21:25, Today: Swift rolled 15 using 1d20+7. 2nd arrow.
21:25, Today: Swift rolled 11 using 1d20+7. arrow.

Alara’s firefighting is both tremendously uplifting to the Elves, and disheartening to the Huns.  Why go the trouble of arson if someone’s just going to spoil it like that?

The Ogre crashes through the door, and on the other end of the Spire Hall, the Orcs somehow disable the lock.

Halflings fall back in dismay.

"Orcs can do that?  Since when?"


The Ogre is first through the door- it is a virtual battering ram, and in an instant it meets Bulwyf.  Bulwyf is beaten back at first, and then, against the massive strength of a magically reinforced Ogre, stands his ground.

Swift and Salen lead a flanking attack from the outside, shooting up the Orcs as they press towards the door.  With their focus in front of them, the Orcs are caught off guard, and a few more fall.

The cluster of Orcs starts to break up, they are torn- they know that if they break off to chase Elves, it will just be a waste of time.  Elves can outrun Orcs easily.  But the doorway is still blocked by the Ogre, who has more problems getting in than they thought.

And then, a couple of Halflings show up behind Swift.

"One last cheese bomb, Captain Greenbottle," a young halfling warrior reports.

"Fling it, lad, make it count," the Halfling leader replies.

Moments later there is a smokey phoooph in the middle of the Orc cluster.

Alara moves to Bulwyf's side, swinging her blade and hacking into the part of the Ogre that the human - no, the warrior - was not immediately occupied with. For someone to stand their ground against an Ogre is no mean feat. She was going to help bring the beast down, but there was no sense in taking all the glory when there are so many blades and so many souls making a stand.

Bulwyf smiles at the ogre, a bit of blood dripping from his lip where a piece of door had splintered and impacted his face. "Now you see what real battle is like beast!" Bulwyf begins hacking, taking note of Alara, and modifying his tactics to suit the extra blade. His twin swords, magnificent alone, truly amazing together, slice through the air aiming at the softer parts of the ogre, legs, arms, neck. "Do not back down! Do not run, fight them back!" he shouts loudly above the din of battle, he hoped his stand would give the others some sort of confidence. That, and he was simply too stubborn to retreat at this point, there was too much anger and adrenaline in his system now.

Swift stays behind the line of warriors as she continues to use her bow, shooting at the oger if she gets a clear shot. She hopes to help bring the nasty thing down.

(ooc- Today: Swift rolled 18 using 1d20+7. arrow 2.
20:13, Today: Swift rolled 22 using 1d20+7. arrow 1. )

Ovo moved in, doing his best to keep out of Bulwyf's and Alara's way. With his shield in place and his axe ready, the dwarf did his best to take out the ogre's legs.

"For Hearth & Vulcan!" Ovo shouted as he swung!

OOC: 13:52, Today: Ovo Goledshield rolled 8 using 1d10+2. Axe damage.
13:51, Today: Ovo Goledshield rolled 25 using 1d20+7. Ovo axe attack.

The great Ogre has run into a wall of defiance- Alara and Bulwyf and Ovo, working together make a formidable battle line.  The Dwarf hobbles the Ogre, cleaving its foot.

The Ogre clips Bulwyf twice.. but he’s had much worse.  Not that much worse, but worse.  He feels wobbly, but he knows the battle is almost over.  The bruises will heal.  And then, Bulwyf and Alara finish the job, slicing into the bloated creature from left and right.

Outside, Swift and Salen, and an increasing number of Elves and Halflings, rake the Huns with arrows even as they try to push into the building.  A few of the Giant Owls show up to help, tearing into Orcs with their talons on sudden dive attacks. One of the Owls does not survive the attack, but with their intervention, the Huns are unable to organize to protect themselves from the arrows being shot into their flanks.  The Huns struggle for the doors.  But those that do get in through the  door are dismayed to see that their Ogre, their huge mobile fortress of ax and muscle, has fallen.

Very soon, so do they.

There is swinging, chopping, slashing, and occasional cursing, but when it is over, there is silence.  The defenders are wet with blood and swear, but the attack on the Citadel has been defeated.

There are more sounds from afar… carried on the winds, from the battles nearby along the approaches to Namaco.  Human and Elven voices, raised in cheers.

Bulwyf gives the ogres body a mighty kick, and cringes, his ribs may be busted, he couldn't tell for sure, he then spit on the ogre. He took the ax away from it, "Axes aren't my thing. Can anyone use this? This was a great victory, you all fought amazingly well, I am very proud of you all!"

Swift sighs as she leans back against a pole (or anything). She looks at Salen "I have never done anything like that before. But at least we won. I am so tired of having to run from these damn things. And I am out of arrows"

 The battle is won, but the day is not over.  The tree is on fire.  Alara's magic squelched some of the fire, and the Elves immediately turn their efforts to putting out the rest.  Firefighting is not a highly advanced art, save for what can be accomplished through magic, and most of the work consists of making sure the fire does not spread, while sacrificing to the flames that which cannot be saved.

The days of cold weather work to their advantage- the flames might spread much faster on a hot day.  It does not look like the fire will spread beyond the one tree that was set ablaze, and if the Elves are quick, even that might be saved.

Captain Greenbottle sets his troop of Halflings to checking the citadel.

"End to end, lads, every nook and cranny.  There might still be Orcs around in hiding, and let's find all the injured.. and those past all injury as well."

There are fallen Elves and even a few of the Halflings and Owls.  The Battle of the Citadel was not without cost.

Bulwyf will help seek out any remaining orcs, "Should we send one back to the emperor to tell him of the loss they suffered today?" He will also try to see if his water sword will help with the fires.

Ovo smiled grimly at the human warrior.

"I'll nay take ah prisoner's life without good cause but that decision should be left ta the King n' Queen. I'll aid yer search though lad."

The dwarf then turned to the others about him and smiled yet again.

"Mistress Swift, Mistress Alara, Bulwyf, and Salen ole friend... I'm indeed proud ta have stood besides ye this day. We've done ah gud job, both here n' where we saved some many from yon city. We've dealt the Hun ah great blow this day. I be proud indeed. I shall nay forget this day nor ye who've I stood with."

Bulwyf nods to the dwarf, "The honor is mine friend. Were it not for your timely arival, I'd not be alive right now."

Swift walks up closer to everyone "Thank you Ovo, it was a group effort. don't forget about the Fay that are with me, they helped me a lot.  Can we have a really serious drink now?" she said tired. "Oh, I need some more arrows too"

Alara does her best to help quash the flames, though she is careful of her limited magic around the tree, not wanting to chill and damage the parts of the tree she's trying to save.

She bows to Ovo as he speaks, and to the others as well. "A battle won, a victory against the Huns, with stalwart companions. This, I will not forget." She cleans her crystal sword before she puts it away. "I will join the Halflings in searching for any hidden Orcs."

Bulwyf, Alara and several Halflings go looking around for Orcs that haven't yet died of their wounds.  None of the Elves join them.  Rarely does one see such an angry edge from Elves- perhaps its in response to the fact that the Orcs here just tried to exterminate them, but the Elven opinion seems to be that if an Orc is found alive, the merciful thing to do is kill it quickly.

Maybe the Elves have been doing that already.  There are  few Orcs lying on the pavement between the parapet wall and the spire building, and they seem to have a few arrows too many sticking into them.

They do find a couple of live Orcs, two of them, lying sprawled out on the hill near the stairs where they were knocked unconscious by a cheese bomb.

"I don't know," one of the Halflings says.  "What do you suppose the Elves'll do with this hognoses if we get them up there?  The Elves don't seem as, well, as noble about things as they usually do."

While they are looking, the see more troops headed up towards the hill... lots of them.   But this time, it's the good guys.  Theoderic's army is headed up the hill.

* * * * * * *

While the battle on the hill was raging, there were other battles around the area.  To the north, beyond the Sambre river, Duke Ambric's troops held the high ground, withstanding several attempts by the Huns to dislodge them.  In the forests further west of the city, the Marquis and Marquessa of the Fourth Ward, the Riverlights, fought the one of the Hun forces while Theoderic, along the Sambre river on the west side of Namaco fought another.  Smaller fights were fought scattered through the area.

Great Ambereye, largest and oldest and by default leader of the Giant Owls, kept up a fight of his own.   Once the Owls had made certain there was no opposition in the air to challenge them, a few stayed at the Citadel to help with the defense of their home.  Most of the others continued to act as scouts and messengers.  Great Ambereye struck several Ogres down, and then flew off to join the Riverlights.

It was the Giant Owl who slew the Hun leading the battle.  Rendered invisible and silent by the Riverlight's magic, the Giant Owl found the powerful Orc shaman, dove, and seized him. Ambereye rent the Orc shaman in the air, and dropped him five hundred feet onto rocks.

Then, bloodied and tired from the battle, the giant eagle returned to the Owlery, surveying the damage, and looking at the fallen Owls... members of his flock... and overhearing Swift's comment about arrows.

"Take up thee the feathers of those who fell today," the Giant Owl says in a deep, mournful voice.  "Let fire take the rest to the next world.  Half the feathers are yours, and give the others to the Elves that tend this place, and the spirits of my kin will guide well any arrows you fletch them with."

Victory was theirs, but the expression on Salen's face initially was a mixture of relief and anger - anger that the Hun would dare strike at an Elven heartland such as this. But he will leave his anger be, ultimately, to better enjoy the defeat of the invading forces. He turns with a smile to Bulwyf, and Alara, and Ovo and Swift - and of course to the other defenders around him. He offers one of his two remaining arrows to Swift.

"This is all I can spare, though hopefully we will have no need for them now. You will need something to put those new feathers in!"

He clasps Ovo's forearm in a warrior's celebration. "We have done it again, old friend. Here's to a warm hearth and good wine - or ale!"

Next he moves to Bulwyf and claps the burly warrior hard on the shoulder, grinning as he does. "I'm sure you can take it, my friend. If you can stand such awful blows from an ogre, you can stand proud against an elf! Well fought indeed, Bulwyf."

"And Alara, what useful tricks to bring so late on! My sister is a fine wizard in her own right, which is one of the reasons I try not to disagree with her - not too often, anyway."

"And, speaking of my sister, I do believe the armies of my brother-in-law approach! One wonders what news they bring with them..."

Bulwyf nods to the elf, Salen, "Courage or stupidity often lead my actions friend. I knew the ogre couldn't pass, so I didn't let him. I'm not much of a strategist, clearly." he says with a chuckle and wince. "Let us hope they bring good tidings."

Swift grins at Salen "Keep you arrow, you are probably better with it then me. I have my sword I can use to kill a few, though I admit, I perfer to come from behind" she is happy for once, its a friendly army. She wonders what they will have to do next.

Swift grins at Salen "Keep you arrow, you are probably better with it then me. I have my sword I can use to kill a few, though I admit, I perfer to come from behind" she is happy for once, its a friendly army. She wonders what they will have to do next.

The Halflings collect up the dead, and the living, and begin to prepare bonfires.  The few Orc survivors are locked in a room in the oldest portion of the Citadel, the small spaces cut into the earth that the Elves no longer use.

As per the Giant Owl's request, the Elves prepare a ceremonial fire for the lost Owls, and remove feathers.

It is grim work for them, but somehow, the Halflings keep everyone's spirits up, talking about food and drink and celebrating the end of the fight.  They are glad to see that Swift and Salen appreciate this too.

"Good thing we brought plenty," one of the Halflings says.

"Not enough to feed all them, though," says another, gesturing towards the approaching army.

"Hot diggity, look at that, they even have Centaurs!"







For re-uniting and greeting with the group, use this thread:  Victory at the Citadel.

Other posts, to keep things from becoming an unruly mob, should stay here.

The Muster at the Citadel

(Putting this scene here because it's the most sensible place to put it.)

The weather forecast of the Sylph is accurate.  The day after her return, the sky has a heavy gray overcast.  A few exploratory snowflakes already drift down.

Gellas assembles the troops on the broad grounds atop the Namaco citadel.  Ranks of Belgican and Frankish warriors, and their Lucimburic allies form up.. and a somewhat less organized herd of Centaurs.

For many of you, it is time to go home.  The battle season has not ended, but for the campaign ahead our numbers will be fewer.  Here is what will happen.  Some of us are going to travel to the east, to defeat the Huns on the far side of the Ardennes.  The fastest way we can get there is by Elven boat, but all of us cannot go that way.  So we will take half of the Lucimburic company, because in traveling east we will be bringing you home anyway.

This is popular with the Lucimburic troops.  They were eager for battle… and now they are eager to see home again.  Especially as it seems they will get there in time for the Winter Solstice!

Gellas then turns his attention to the few who joined them during the battles in Belgica:

“Those of you who joined us over the past few months, if you are a man of Belgica, you are released from our service.  Go home, see to your families, see to your homes and farms and businesses.  Not as a rabble- Lucius of Glangon will march you to Bruxzella and then to Turnacum and Viroviacum.”

Gellas turns to Lucius, an older, veteran cavalryman who has come through the battle with a few fresh bruises and a healing gash on his face.

“My turn, eh, cousin?” Lucius asks.

“And take twenty riders, to form an outpost at Viroviacum.  We will need to watch that border now, it is very weak, and tempting.   Not only for Huns- weak borders attract all those looking for easy spoils.”

He turns his attention back to the army at large.


Everyone else, who is not of Belgica, and not chosen to go on the Elf boats, we will go along the Meuse River, following behind, camping our way through the lands of the Elves.  And then, either to our homes, or to aid Theoderic, as necessary.”

The troops start packing up.

Gellas adds: “And it’s going to snow.  Wear socks.”