Session Preface:
Crude, Orcish horns bellow a tri-tone command of retreat as the voices of Velqwen's defenders rise in triumph and relief. Yulmar's remaining forces who had breached the wall are unceremoniously dealt with as the tension of battle dissipates into a brief quiet. A few moments pass as you collectively catch your breath and survey the courtyard. Further into the city, a bell tolls twice. Doors swing wide on creaking hinges as husbands and wives burst forth in search for their partners and parents anxiously seek out their children among those carrying their wounded companions. As weary soldiers pour through the western gate, deep sighs of relief and wailing cries of dread fill the streets in equal measure.
"Parathrax!" a sharp voice calls out amidst the throngs of those still seeking their loved ones. Fighting through the crowd the young Tazroth pushes his way forward. "Zorzra is tending to the Speaker's wounds, but he's asked to see you. All of you. Hurry, this way! Come on, come on!"
Stepping into the still curious structure of tentwork grafted onto an ancient sandstone ruin, you watch as a youthful dragonborn woman wraps the Speaker's chest in cloth bandages. "You must let the balm seal the wound and let this fever run its course. That means bedrest, Speaker." As Zorvathrax goes to argue, the healer cuts him off, "No, we will have none of that. You must rest. Oh, look, your guests are here."
As the woman turns to you, you notice the blood-soaked rags still clasped in her hand and strewn about the floor around the Speaker's cot. "I'm sure whatever you need done, these new heroes of yours are more than capable of handling. Tazroth, let you and I go check on the others coming in from the battle. Bring one of those jugs against the far wall and follow me."
The young apprentice nods, clasps the ceramic basin dutifully, and follows the healer past you and back out into the bustling streets.
"We ugh, well we have much to discuss. Tell me, how did our forces fair in the rest of the assault?"
Session Summary:
While the rest of Clan Zirthund recovers from the surprise assault, the party speak at length with Zorvathrax as they pour over a map of the Nether Mountains and discuss the greater implications of the orc's attack. With the revelation of the two prominent orc clans known as the Ripped Gut and Thousand Fist working together, it becomes apparent Velqwen would serve as a crucial waypoint for the two faction's strongholds and that no one in the Nether Mountain has faced an orcish threat of this size nor magnitude.
Zisilu is summoned by the Speaker and shares her reports of orcs retreating to the western river, perhaps with a camp in place. While it becomes clear Clan Zirthund's people will not be sufficient for repelling the orcish invasion indefinitely, Zorvathrax denounces the idea of going to Avraathe's gates as refugees out of pride and tradition. Privately, however, the Speaker admits the wisdom in allying with Avraathe, but explains he must maintain a position suggesting otherwise with his clanmates, leaving Parathrax and Vorothruun to help bridge the gap of what must be done.
In the meantime, it is determined the clan's remaining military forces should follow the retreating orcs to their camp to strike a decisive retaliatory blow to the local orc forces before they can regroup. While the dragonborns organize the forces and catch up with their recent companions of Stragri, Vudrogg, and Rocreth, Endriel scouts ahead of the party thanks to the speed of an elegant, but sometimes stubborn white mare with black splotches across her back legs. Upon arriving along the riverfront, Endriel discovers a long stretch of crudely fashioned tents with an obvious central tent for leaders and the army's tacticians situated towards the middle of the makeshift camp along the riverbank.
After making observations of messengers coming and going from the central tent and heading northward, Endriel sets up the necessary signs for the Velqwen forces to find him and the party reconvenes to discuss strategy before descending on the orcs while they lick their wounds. In preparation for the ensuing battle, Parathrax delivers an impassioned and inspiring charge to battle, reminding the soldiers that these orcs had assaulted their home and had already been turned back once and that this would be the fatal strike of Bahamut's justice. The forces then charge in, creating a chaotic environment across the orc camp, allowing the strike force of the party and their companions to sneak behind the main forces and meet the camp's leaders in their central camp.
A chaotic frenzy of clashing blades ensues as the leader of the forces uses its mastery of arcane flames to scatter the party with fireballs and nearly burning Parathrax to death by using his own metal armor against him. Eventually, the party defeats the orcs defending their captain and manage to capture the individual so as to gain more intel when they return to Avraathe. Searching the camp, Endriel also discovers a poorly drawn map of the region outlining the position of some of the remaining orc force which he then made note of before the party made their way to rejoin the success rout of Clan Zirthund's forces and return to Velqwen to plan the next stage of this looming conflict.
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