[b]War Room[/b][hr]
"[color=#239C89]At the East Gate are Goblins and a pair of Siege Trolls.[/color]" Balthazar said, pointing to the figures on the map. "[color=#239C89]But if the reports are correct, the Goblins upon the wall will soon be dealt with, and the Royal Guard will have slain one or both of the trolls.[/color]" The lord explained. "[color=#239C89]As such, if you choose to go, it would likely be to help... clear the field, so to speak.[/color]"

"[color=#239C89]Even still.[/color]" He paused. "[color=#239C89]Seeing as the defenders on the East Gate have been having the most trouble comparatively, your assistance will nevertheless be appreciated. It would also put us in a better position to defend the gate in the event of a surprise.[/color]" Balthazar rationalized, before turning to Acrius. "[color=#239C89]I trust you will be accompanying Lady Turash during this endeavor, Acrius?[/color]" Despite the old man's neutral expression, the boy would know that this was no question-- rather, it was an implied command. 

Balthazar would have preferred if the two had deigned to rest, even for a little while longer, but as the priestess was ready to return to the battlefield, there was no other choice but to give her an escort. There were multiple reasons for this. Firstly, Drana was not just an outsider-- she was a noblewoman. Any injury to her would reflect upon the Royal Guard, even [i]if[/i] she had lent the defenders assistance of her own volition. Secondly, Acrius had, knowingly or otherwise, dealt her an insult-- something he had to repent for on his own time. Lastly, Balthazar needed Acrius to keep an eye on her; until the spymaster got more information on Drana Turash, he could not trust her to operate on her own, nor could he give her any information about the siege itself.

Whatever the case may be, it would be better to be safe than sorry. Balthazar waited for them to ask any questions or speak their mind, but once they were ready to go, he would say goodbye. "[color=#239C89]You are dismissed.[/color]" He said, formally. "[color=#239C89]May you find good fortune on the battlefield.[/color]" As they left, the man returned to his work. With all troop reserves depleted, he could no longer make any rotations-- all he could do is send all injured men on the frontlines to the triage center... and send the dead to the graveyard for sorting.

Such was the price of war.

[b]Co-GM IC[/b]:

[b]North Gate[/b][hr]
Between Leonidas's charge, Zatana's assistance, Naysein's song, and the guardsmen's numbers, any remaining Orcs were quickly driven from the walls. Those who stayed and fought were put to the sword or thrown over the walls. As a soldier cuts the grappling hook, a rallying cry resounds across the walls. The men scream in celebration as the Orcs retreat-- with their attempt to scale the walls foiled, and with two dead Orc lieutenants to show for it, there was no reason to prolong this battle.

Orcs were proud and bloodthirsty warriors, but it seemed even they could realize when a battle could no longer be won. There was no glory in a defeat like this, so there was no reason to die for it. With the Orc offensive broken, guardsmen and soldiers alike would turn to the fallen. Most turned to their fallen comrades-in-arms, a few of them crestfallen as they carried the bodies from the wall. Some of the more glory-seeking men moved to take trophies from the Orc bodies: ears and fangs-- proof of their kills. A few of them simply sat there in thought; Naysein's song invigorated them, but with adrenaline slowly fading, fatigue began to set in.

And now all that needed to be done was to return to the Keep. Perhaps if the defenders at the other gates had received similar success, this battle would soon be done.

[b]West Gate[/b][hr]
Rudolf's leadership meant that none of his men would hesitate, and Merik's ferocity was enough to give even a hardened veteran pause. Thus, it was no surprise that after several moments of intense fighting, that one side had to give. With Goblin forces in disarray, no amount of shouting or discipline would get them to move back into formation. The Lizardman's Dragonfire and hungry jaws was an excellent deterrent in this regard, completely throwing the enemies into a panicked frenzy.

The guardsmen's superior size and training helped dispatch many of the Goblin Honor Guard. Rudolf and Merik would wreak havoc in their lines, which let the soldiers finish the enemies off when an opportunity presented itself. Even Adgak Heel-Slicer, as skilled as he was, was unable to lead his forces effectively, or kill enough men to turn the tide.

Realizing this, the Warchief shut his eyes, reached for something attached to his belt, and then threw it on the ground. Even among the clashing of steel, and the grinding of flesh, the sound of glass shattering resounded across the walls. Soon, a noxious, stinging green cloud erupted from the broken flask. Everyone who inhaled the gas felt instantly nauseous-- their eyes would water as the foulest stench they could imagine emanated from the alchemical concoction. 

Human and goblin alike wheezed in pain and disgust. The Goblin Warchief, having anticipated this, quickly disengaged from the fight and returned to the grappling hooks, where he moved to make his retreat. Several archers and riflemen attempted to shoot Adgak as he retreated, but the cloud obscured their vision, and their projectiles would hit nothing but the stones of the castle.

"This isn't over, humans! I will have my revenge!" Adgak Heel-Slicer cried out as he abseiled. In a few moments, he would reach the moat and quickly retreat, a group of goblin shieldbearers moving to cover him. It seems he calls himself a Warchief, but at the first sight of potential defeat, he turns tail and runs away! Now all that was left was this stinking cloud and the Goblin Honor Guard that he left behind to die. The defenders need only clear these stragglers and destroy the grappling hooks, and the battle would be decided.

[b]East Gate - Interior[/b][hr]
Acrius and Drana would soon arrive on the scene, where the sounds of battle only seem to intensify. The walls seemed clear of goblins-- the reinforcements must have dealt with the ones atop the wall, even going so far as to destroy the siege ladders. The gate rocked occasionally from the force of the beastman and the troll engaging in a close-quarters brawl. A soldier near the gate wonders if he should open the gate to help, but is quickly shut down by his commanding officer-- they cannot open the gate to sally forth and meet the attackers on the field; not while the troll still lives.

Several men work on moving soldiers and militia from the wall to the city to receive treatment for their wounds, or to move the dead away from the fighting. Upon the wall itself, bowmen and riflemen fire at Goblins below, so as to ensure Faira and Manald are not overwhelmed by the green horde.

[b]East Gate - Exterior[/b][hr]
Meanwhile, in the killing fields below, the battle rages on. As Faira engages a group of goblins, Manald fights the remaining troll at close range. Arrows and bullets fly towards the goblin infantry to dissuade them from sneaking up on the Royal Guard while they do their work. Many greenskins don't make it close enough to even threaten them, but there was no doubt about it-- without archer support, the duo would quickly be overwhelmed.

Of course, that's less of an issue for Manald, who was currently in a life-or-death wrestling match with a troll. As blackness begins to set in, Manald claws and rends the troll's hands as best he can. With desperation fueling his strikes, there was a disgusting crack as he manages to cut deep into troll's bone. The creature let out a pained groan as it relinquished its grip on its opponent, instead opting to kick the beastman away, causing him to hit the gate hard.

Thankfully, the gate is rather sturdy, even with the damage the trolls had done to it. Now there was some distance between Manald and the hammer troll-- this was an opportunity to turn things around!

...or die trying.