Late? They aren't due for a day! And that's early!
A 47 from Andromir ends his run of luck.
Corlindel rolls a 66, for a 99, for seven stamina loss. He barely notices the arrow skitters across his armour. A blow from the Black Orc fells Andromir, his last opponent.
The crossbowmen fire. The first one rolls a 97, for a 112 after cover, 13B on Corlindel
"Thigh strike; +3 hits. If no leg armour, 3 hits per round."
The other one misses.
----
Orc: 10/51/30/60 (Rigid Leather, sword and shield)
Orc Crossbowman: 10/60/5(50)/60 (Rigid Leather, crossbow and pavisse)
Orc Crossbowman: 10/38/5(50)/60 (Rigid Leather, crossbow and pavisse)
The Black Orc: 0/34/?/? (Chainmail, 2-handed ball and chain) BLEEDING (1). -5 TO ACTIVITY
Corlindel: 15/20/25/38 (Rigid leather, Longbow) BLEEDING (3)
-----
The Black Orc gives out a huge cry...
... and then the battle comes to a pause. Surrounding him and his retinue are twenty seven of Baranar's men, and Baranar himself. The rest of his second wave assault are fallen.
Yes I do, Corlindel.
The Black Orc whirls his flail menacing around his head, letting out another warcry of defiance as his crossbowmen re-load. The troops stand around him warily, as the Black Orc turns to look at his forces outside. Not enough to hold the fortress against counter-attack, and all the Dunlendings fled...
The Black orc spits on the ground, and hauls up a corpse of one of Baranar's men. He then speaks, in a snarling but remarkably clear Westron.
"Let everyone in the Lands hear my words. All who follow the word of the false King... will meet this fate."
He hurls the corpse at Baranar, where it lands by his feet.
"Already your hopes burn. When word comes, all will see that the lead of the Usurper's line leads only to death."
And, apparently unconcerned by the situation as a whole, he turns and starts to make his way out of the gateway, his retinue covering him.
With that, the fight at Baranar is indeed over- though there is not much left of the place to show for it, and the stench of some five hundred dead bodies in close proximity is soon going to be overwhelming- and there is no-one with strength enough to dig graves.
Just after dawn the next morning, a lone horseman shows on the horizon, riding frantically towards the Fortress, a huge warhammer strapped to his back.
Ush: Is there anything I can do for the others? And Is it possible to grab something from the dead ones? like legs and arms armor?
Corlindel who was on the front wall handling his long sword and shield - and with his precious two handed sword in the scabbard and his quiver full of arrows again - watches an horseman riding to the fortress: "Maybe a scout from Fornost" He thinks.