The Knights crashed upon the orc raiding force and tore through them. Unprepared for a sudden attack from the rear, the raiding orcs were falling in mass numbers. Fanilly's blade took one orc's head from its shoulders, sending the corpse to the ground. But even with their initial momentum, the numbers of the enemy were enough that most of them were unable to reach the walls. Indeed, Fanilly found herself swiftly caught in melee, fending off orcish attacks as the enemy turned and attempted to fight. Still, they had decimated the backline of the orcs, slaughtering many of the beastly raiders in the initial charge.

Fanilly slashed once more, piercing through the black, angular armor of one orc and dashing off its helmet. Beneath were the pointed ears, grey skin, sharpened teeth, and gnarled, mangled face expected of one of the barbaric monsters as it fell dead. Their armor, while clearly made for intimidation, was not particularly strong. A finely-crafted sword such as Fanilly's was easily capable of cleaving through the cheap metals and delivering a lethal blow. No, the issue came in their numbers, not in their individual power.

Just how many orcs had reached this place? Their numbers seemed to reach at least five hundred. How had so many gotten so close to the capital, so quickly?

Fanilly's mare reared, its hooves coming down to bowl another orc over, sending in snarling to the ground. However, as she prepared to urge her horse forward, the blonde girl suddenly felt something sharply impact her side. Even through her armor it knocked the wind out of her, forcing her off her horse and to the side.

Rolling onto her back as she hit the ground, Fanilly cursed herself inwardly for not being aware of her surroundings. She'd gotten unhorsed in a cavalry charge... one that she'd been leading. However, there was little time for self-castigation, as an enormous blunt object suddenly came careening towards her head.

Rolling once more, catching herself and getting back to her feet, the blonde girl felt the rush of air as the club slammed into the dirt beside her.

Before her was the largest of the orcs she had seen so far, large enough that it seemed like it had perhaps been the product of one troll parent, as disturbing as that was to imagine. It let out a roar, then something in the harsh orcish tongue, before hurling itself towards her and forcing her to dodge and backpedal. Her parrying dagger wouldn't be any use against such a large weapon...! There were the other orcs to be concerned about as well...

Near the wall, many of the orcish forces had fallen dead, pierced by ice, lightning, or arrows. The trolls, as well, had taken their share of damage. But their hides were thick, and their pain dulled by drugs fed to them by orcish chiefs.

They were huge beasts, with almost rocky, grey skin. Vaguely apelike-faces were also equipped with sharp teeth, their arms longer then their legs, long enough to nearly trail on the ground.

The trolls were now beginning to turn away from the wall. There were ten in total, the hulking creatures towering above their allies as they began to thunder towards the attacking knights.

The one Tyaethe had attacked, however, let out a bellow and turned towards her, raising both hands and balling them into fists before swinging them down towards the paladin.