Jiyyd nearly overrun
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I stepped outside of the Whore and immediately recognized something was wrong. A crowd of adventurers were milling around near the gate, ready for battle, with looks of grim determination on their faces. Lady Kara turned as I approached and explained that orcs were again attacking Jiyyd and then asked him to head to the south gate to aid in the defense there. A few people were there already, though I was skeptical that we would be enough to resist any serious effort to enter the town from the gate should they pursue it hard enough. I found myself wondering yet again why the defenses and gate arrangement of the town were so poor.
The battle raged for the entire night and included a massive assault on the east gate, but eventually every gate was torn assunder. The defenders were outnumbered but did not sell their lives cheaply as almost nobody fell without taking a few orcs with them. But fall they did, one by one, as the unrelenting tide of orcs swept over the walls and through the town. I watched astonishing personal acts of bravery by Maya, Foilir, Sy'wyn, Healea, Moe, a dwarf I heard called Rugnar, a woman named Merina, and Mariston, among others. Particularly hard hit were the small folk of the Valley who proved that bravery burns brightly among their kind, and who played host to the wounded that were able to drag themselves away from the fighting.
As dawn approached, what was left of the defenders that could still bear arms were gathered between the Whore and Vroka's shop. Kara proclaimed again that the town would not fall, no matter the cost, and she asked Pete to take stock of who was left and available to make a last stand. It was grim news indeed when he returned to declare that we few that were gathered in that spot were all that were left. We tended the wounded and dead, rested where we could, and set to work.
With bitter determination, we prepared new defenses where the gates had stood, while the Legion prepared to meet the orcs with a preemptive strike. Those mages that were there worked together to create an enormous magical barrier that shielded the entire town. We could here the orcs singing and reveling beyond the walls, and when the mage shield finally failed, we made ourselves ready for our final defense, but the orcs did not come, either too drunk to finish us off or perhaps the Legion fought them off on the plains.
We had come within a goblin's short-hair of being anihilated. I was happy that so many Tel'Quessir had survived the battle, and rejuvenated by the smile and soft words of one of them. I was also proud of how so many diverse people were able to put aside differences to fight against a common foe. I was sad at the losses of so many brave folks, but I knew it was Solonor's blessings alone that kept me from joining them in the Fugues.
Reverie was too brief.
~Aelhaearn Gwynogfryn
((Thanks a pant-load for the event Gobble, May, and whomever else was involved. I soiled my armor I was so scared.))
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_The dwarf's eyes darted about the town, convinced one of the trained dogs must have made it into town. Hours before, he found himself standing in the middle of a large pack.
He stops walking a moment as he tries to count them in his mind. 15… No must have been closer to 20. He nods and stops tugging on his beard as he settles on that number. Yes at least 20. Not counting the pack leaders.
He glances down the alleyways, behind the barrells, under the small bridge.
Slowly he makes his way towards the Jiyyd commons, the gold parts of his plate looking red, covered in dried blood.
Passing one of the slaughtered dueregar clan, he narrows an eye as he realizes his armor looks too similar.
Still glancing about the town, he makes his way to the small river. Kneeling down he reaches for a severed orc head sitting on the bottom. Removing the helm, he uses the wet hair to scrub the dried blood off his armor.
The battle was so fast, so fierce, the details blend together. Was he fighting along side Maya? He furrows his brow as he tries to recall if it was his axe in the destroyer orc's back that felled it. Or was it his eye that was stuck on his shoulder spikes, from when he knocked it down.
Wave after wave came at the town, and he watched defenders run like chickens with no head from gate to gate. Cursing, spitting, grumbling, he sneered at them. Unmoving from the east gate, only chasing down the orcs and dogs that made it through the group holding the east.
Finally the waves stop. He hears the singing of the orcs, celebrating their "victory". He starts to laugh. As he steps over dead orc after dead orc, the laughing grows louder and deeper. "Victory me arse... Dey lost a farkin entire army."
He finishes washing his armor and tosses the orc head back into the river. Ales are needed to recover from a battle like this. Many ales.
As he enters the inn, he sees the legion head south to the orc fortress. Late, as usual, and leading poor sods to their death.
Sneering at the trouble that will follow the Legion back to Jiyyd, he wearily heads to Peltarch._
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After returning from the fields after being scorned byt he orcs as "Grag the Coward" Grag was seen walking up th the fool and smacking him as hard as he could with his trainee bopper relentlessly…Moments later he was seen walking to the bench cera was on a nd picking it up and dropping her and the bench " Nex time nae use rocks ta heelp ok!" *mumbles and walks off ranting about mages and war machines... *
(( Great event and fun all Thnx DM's and PC's .... was bummed i missed the first wave... and nice rp you crazy mages
))
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The Orc attacks didnt compare to the carnage that followed in the Windy Plains, due to them farkin wigglers openin that portal.
Dwin walks off shaking his head and muttering about wigglers
