The howling of several hundred creatures broke the silence as Romulus rested, guarding the entrance way to the citadel. The unknown screams sounding ethereal and unworldly. Romulus quickly rose to his feet and ran upstairs to where the party slept. Romulus’ heavy hand met the wooden door to the old master’s chamber, immediately punching a hole through the mahogany. The sound quickly awakened the party inside as three frantic orcs made their way up the stairs. Romulus pulled his arm from the door as the orcs explained that hundreds of elves were laying siege to Gardmore’s gates. The party quickly donned their gear, with Vandal and Vaol reapplying their orcish disguises before rushing out the citadel’s doors to meet what horde of creatures was attempting to break the gates.
The orcs were organizing on the ramparts using torchlight to get a better view of their enemy. Ogres and orcs with weapons prepared approaching from Gardmore village, awaiting Big Tuna’s orders. Vandal barked at the orcs to prepare for battle, commanding all with ranged weapons to join the party on the ramparts and battlements. Ryl quickly identified the threat as eladrin, corrupted and twisted by necromantic magic. They approached in tight formation with robotic movements. The party scaled the southern battlement as the twisted fey creatures crashed upon the portcullis. Vaol’s eyes scanned the enemy, he saw several abyssal maws a midst the fey creatures, however his greatest concern was the towering fomorian approaching the gate. The fomorian wielded an enormous blade in one hand with heavy armor covering his vitals, the ground shaking with every footstep. Vaol notified the others of another creature that caught his sight, a winged devil figure floating off in the distance. However it was the approaching fomorian that was their greatest concern, its height exceeding the city walls, it was only a matter of time before it broke through.
Ryl immediately produced a scroll of magic circle and began implementing it upon the ground just inside Gardmore’s walls. The powerful ritual would offer a barrier against the undead fey. Vandal called to the orcs to pile anything they could to reinforce the gate and for the ranged orcs to ready their attacks against the approaching fomorian. The bodies of slain orcs and junk laying about was quickly piled against the portcullis as the methodical slashes of eladrin chipped away at the ancient defenses. Suddenly a thought struck the party: fire. Vandal called for the orcs to produce anything flammable whilst Morte assembled a makeshift Molotov cocktail from lantern oil and a glass container. Morte rushed back to the battlements past the battleready Romulus and met the party as the fomorian came within javelin range. The orcs all threw their hand axes and javelins; as well as a single wobbly arrow. A feeling of dread overwhelmed the orcs as their weapons simply bounced off the fomorians hide. The giant fey beast let out a low chuckle and continued his slow pace towards the gate. The party quickly realized that this creature was like no foe they had faced before and it was now an effort to buy time for Ryl to complete the circle.