Orcs of the Vastar

[Icelander]

These lenses can be added to most of the templates, but assume that the orc is learning how to fight in the shieldwall. For a veteran who does not, substitute his weapons of choice for the more typical shieldwall weapons.

Veteran Lens: Add Combat Reflexes [+15]; Unique Training (Shield gives no penalty in close combat) Perk [+1]; Shield Skill +1 skill level [+4]; Soldier +1 skill level [+4]; Spear +1 skill level [+4]; Tactics +1 skill level [+2] and one of Axe/Mace, Knife, Shortsword or Wrestling +1 skill level [+4]. 10 CPs in Techniques from Orcish Shieldwall.

Cost 44 CPs

Elite Lens: Add +1 DX [+20]; Combat Reflexes [+15]; Fearlessness +1 [+2]; Orc Talent +1 [+5]; Teamwork (Orc Shieldwall) Perk [+1]; Unique Training (Shield gives no penalty in close combat) Perk [+1]; Axe/Mace +1 skill level [+4]; Shield Skill +2 skill levels [+8]; Soldier +2 skill levels [+8]; Spear +2 skill levels [+8]; Tactics +2 skill levels [+6]; Wrestling +1 skill level [+4] and either Knife or Shortsword +1 skill level [+4]. 20 CPs in Techniques from Orcish Shieldwall.

Cost 106 CPs

Most orc leaders come to their position by virtue of their skill at arms and ferocity in battle. As such, the leadership lenses below should ideally be combined with either the Veteran and Elite lenses and often enough also the Strongman or Hulk lens.

Squad Leader Lens: Add Language Orc (Semi-literate) [+1]; Language Common (Broken/Semi-Literate) [+2]; Orc Talent +1 [+5]; Leadership at IQ [+2] and Tactics +1 skill level [+4].

Cost 14 CPs

Wing Leader Lens: Add +1 IQ [+20]; Language Orc (Accented Reading) [+2]; Language Common (Accented/Accented) [+4]; Orc Talent +1 [+5]; Administration at IQ-1 [+1]; Leadership at IQ+1 [+4]; Operations at IQ-2 [+1] and Tactics +1 skill level [+4].

Cost 41 CPs

Warband Leader Lens: Add +1 IQ [+20]; Language Orc (Accented Reading) [+2]; Language Common (Accented/Accented) [+4]; Orc Talent +2 [+10]; Administration at IQ [+2]; Leadership at IQ+2 [+8]; Operations at IQ-1 [+2] and Tactics +2 skill levels [+8].

Cost 56 CPs

Any relatively normal orc can add 1-6 points of ST [+10 to +60] as well. Orc size appears to correlate with ferocity and aggression and very often the biggest orcs will also be enthusiastic warriors. The lens below suits such an orc, big and well able to make use of his size and strength.

Strongman Lens: Add +2 ST [+20]; +1 HP [2]; +1 DR (-40% Tough Skin) [3]; Fearlessness +1 [+2]; High Pain Threshold [+10]; upgrade Fit to Very Fit [+10] and the Power Grappling Perk [+1].

Cost 48 CPs

Hulk Lens: Add +4 ST [+40]; +1 HT [+10]; +3 HP [6]; +1 DR (-40% Tough Skin) [3]; Fearlessness +2 [+4]; High Pain Threshold [+10]; Upgrade Fit to Very Fit [+10] and the Power Grappling Perk [+1].

Cost 88 CPs

Juggernaut Lens: Add +6 ST [+60]; +2 HT [+20]; +5 HP [10]; +1 DR (-40% Tough Skin) [3]; Fearlessness +3 [+6]; High Pain Threshold [+10]; Upgrade Fit to Very Fit [+10] and the Power Grappling Perk [+1].

Cost 120 CPs

[Icelander]

Dukka, orc subordinate leader (189 CPs)

Dukka comes from the tribe Obsidian Death and is for the most part a typical squad leader. In battle, his function is to relay the orders of his wing commander, i.e. the orc in charge of his part of the shieldwall (either centre, left or right), and order his men to close up in case of casualties. He is usually responsible for about twenty orcs. For his stats, we use the Gray Orc Warrior template with the Veteran and Squad Leader lenses.

Attributes
ST 11 [10]; DX 10 [0]; IQ 9 [0*]; HT 11 [0*].

Secondary attributes
HP 12 [0*]; Will 11 [0*]; Per 11 [0*]; FP 13 [0*].
Basic Speed 5.25 [0], Basic Move 6 [0*].

5' 6"; 185 lbs. (SM 0) Age 19.

Social Background and Languages
TL: 3 [0]
CF: Gray Orc [0].
Languages: Tribe Patois (Native/None) [0*]; Orcish (Native/Semi-literate) [2*]; Common (Broken/Semi-Literate) [2].

Perks
Shieldwall Training [1]
Style Familitarity (Orcish Shieldwall) [1]
Unique Training (Shield gives no penalty in close combat) [1]


Advantages
Arm ST +1 [0*]
Combat Reflexes [15]
Discriminatory Smell [0*]
Fearlessness 2 [2*]
Fit [5]
Lifting ST +1 [0*]
Night Vision 3 [0*]
Orc Talent 2 [5*]
Resistant to Poison and Disease +3 [0*]

Disadvantages
Bloodlust (SC 15) [0*]
Bully (SC 12) [0*]
Callous [0*]
Duty (To his warlord, 12-) [-10]
Intolerance (Civilised Races) [0*]
Social Stigma (Monster) [0*]
Unattractive (Vs. dominant race) [0*]


Quirks
Collects molars from his slain enemies and wears them as a necklace [-1]
Doesn't venerate any gods, but keeps this to himself [-1]
Harbors a secret crush on his chieftain's youngest wife [-1]
Leers suggestively at females of any race [-1]
Wants to live in an opulent house, not a damp cave [-1]


Skills
Area Knowledge: Hunting Area (IQ+1) -10 [2], Axe/Mace (DX+2) -12 [8], Brawling (DX+2) -12 [4], Camouflage (IQ+0) -9 [1], Climbing (DX+0) -10 [2], Hiking (HT+1) -12 [4], Intimidation (Will+3) -14 [4], Jumping (DX+1) -11 [2]; Knife (DX+4) -14 [12], Leadership (IQ+0) -9 [2]; Running (HT+0) -10 [1]; Scrounging (Per+3) -14 [4], Shield (DX+4) -14 [12], Shortsword (DX+2) -12 [8], Spear (DX+3) -13 [12], Soldier/TL 3 (IQ+4) -14 [12], Stealth (DX+0) -10 [2], Survival: Mountains (Per+3) -14 [4], Sumo Wrestling (DX+2) -12 [8]; Swimming (HT-1) -10 [1], Tactics (IQ+3) -12 [8], Theology (Orcish) (IQ-2) -7 [1], Throw Spear (DX+0) -10 [1], Two-Handed Axe/Mace (DX+2) -12 [8], Wrestling (DX+1) -12 [8].

Techniques
Armed Grapple: Shield (Shield+0) -14 [4]; Targeted Attack: Shield Grapple/Shield (Shield-1) -12 [3]; Targeted Attack: Knife Thrust/Groin (Knife-1) -13 [3]; Targeted Attack: Spear Thrust/Face (Spear-2) -11 [4].


Gray Orc Template [15]
Attributes [10]
Secondary Attributes [0]
Social Background [4]
Perks [1]
Advantages [27]
Disadvantages [-10]
Quirks [-5]
Skills [133]
Techniques [14]

Total [189]

[Icelander]

Kuge Elf-Eye, Orc Champion (289 CPs)

Kuge is representative of the hardened elite that surround orc leaders in battle. He is not especially tall, but he's thickset and massively strong, as well as owning a hungry ferocity that serves him well in the shield wall. For his stats we use the Gray Orc Warrior template with the Elite and Strongman lenses.

Attributes
ST 13 [30]; DX 11 [20]; IQ 9 [0*]; HT 11 [0*].

Secondary attributes
HP 15 [2*]; Will 11 [0*]; Per 11 [0*]; FP 13 [0*].
Basic Speed 5.5 [0], Basic Move 6 [0*].

5' 7"; 215 lbs. (SM 0) Age 22.

Social Background and Languages
TL: 3 [0]
CF: Gray Orc [0].
Languages: Tribe Patois (Native/None) [0*]; Orcish (Native/None) [1*].

Perks
Power Grappling [1]
Shieldwall Training [1]
Style Familitarity (Orcish Shieldwall) [1]
Teamwork (Orcish Shieldwall) [1]
Unique Training (Shield gives no penalty in close combat) [1]


Advantages
Arm ST +1 [0*]
Combat Reflexes [15]
Discriminatory Smell [0*]
DR 1 (-40% Tough Skin) [3]
Fearlessness 4 [8*]
High Pain Threshold [10]
Lifting ST +1 [0*]
Night Vision 3 [0*]
Orc Talent 2 [5*]
Resistant to Poison and Disease +3 [0*]
Very Fit [15]

Disadvantages
Bloodlust (SC 15) [0*]
Bully (SC 12) [0*]
Callous [0*]
Duty (To his warlord, 12-) [-10]
Intolerance (Civilised Races) [0*]
Social Stigma (Monster) [0*]
Unattractive (Vs. dominant race) [0*]


Quirks
Fanatically devoted to Gruumsh [-1]
Grows his hair into a mohawk [-1]
Owns the dried eye of an elvish wizard which he keeps as a talisman [-1]
Reveres his axe as religious item [-1]
Washes himself regularly with cold water [-1]


Skills
Area Knowledge: Hunting Area (IQ+1) -10 [2], Axe/Mace (DX+3) -14 [12], Brawling (DX+2) -13 [4], Camouflage (IQ+0) -9 [1], Climbing (DX+0) -11 [2], Hiking (HT+1) -12 [4], Intimidation (Will+3) -14 [4], Jumping (DX+1) -12 [2]; Knife (DX+2) -13 [4], Running (HT+0) -10 [1]; Scrounging (Per+3) -14 [4], Shield (DX+5) -16 [16], Shortsword (DX+3) -14 [12], Spear (DX+4) -15 [16], Soldier/TL 3 (IQ+6) -15 [16], Stealth (DX+0) -11 [2], Survival: Mountains (Per+3) -14 [4], Sumo Wrestling (DX+2) -13 [8]; Swimming (HT-1) -10 [1], Tactics (IQ+3) -12 [8], Theology (Orcish) (IQ-2) -7 [1], Throw Spear (DX+0) -11 [1], Two-Handed Axe/Mace (DX+3) -14 [12], Wrestling (DX+3) -14 [12].

Techniques
Armed Grapple: Shield (Shield+0) -16 [4]; Close Combat: Shortsword (Shortsword-1) -13 [3]; Feint: Shield (Shield+4) -20 [5]; Reverse Grip: Spear (Spear-2) -13 [5]; Targeted Attack: Shortsword Thrust/Groin (Shortsword-1) -13; Targeted Attack: Spear Thrust/Face (Spear-2) -13 [4].


Gray Orc Template [15]
Attributes [50]
Secondary Attributes [2]
Social Background [1]
Perks [5]
Advantages [56]
Disadvantages [-10]
Quirks [-5]
Skills [151]
Techniques [24]

Total [289]

[Icelander]

Chief U'vall Many-Foes (425 CPs)

U'vall is chief of the Limbchrushers, a tribe which owes tribute to the Obsidian Death tribe. He is a young chief, come to his position only in the last year, and he has big plans for his people. The previous chief was his father, but U'vall did not inherit the title. He grabbed it by challenging his father and killing him with his bare hands after breaking his axe on his shield. For his stats, we use the Gray Orc Warrior template with the Elite, Warband Leader and Juggernaut lenses.

Attributes
ST 17 [70]; DX 11 [20]; IQ 10 [+20*]; HT 13 [20*].

Secondary attributes
HP 23 [10*]; Will 12 [0*]; Per 12 [0*]; FP 15 [0*].
Basic Speed 5.75 [0], Basic Move 6 [0*].

5' 10"; 289 lbs. (SM 0) Age 24.

Social Background and Languages
TL: 3 [0]
CF: Gray Orc [0].
Languages: Tribe Patois (Native/None) [0*]; Orcish (Native/Accented) [3*]; Common (Accented/Accented) [4].

Perks
Power Grappling [1]
Shieldwall Training [1]
Style Familitarity (Orcish Shieldwall) [1]
Teamwork (Orc Shieldwall) [1]
Unique Training (Shield gives no penalty in close combat) [1]

Advantages
Arm ST +1 [0*]
Combat Reflexes [15]
Discriminatory Smell [0*]
DR 1 [-40% Tough Skin) [3]
Fearlessness 6 [10*]
High Pain Threshold [10]
Lifting ST +1 [0*]
Night Vision 3 [0*]
Orc Talent 4 [15*]
Resistant to Poison and Disease +3 [0*]
Very Fit [15]

Disadvantages
Bloodlust (SC 15) [0*]
Bully (SC 12) [0*]
Callous [0*]
Intolerance (Civilised Races) [0*]
Social Stigma (Monster) [0*]
Unattractive (Vs. dominant race) [0*]


Quirks
Imagines himself much smarter than he is [-1]
Monogamous and treats his wife as full partner [-1]
Offers to Ilneval the Horde Leader [-1]
Reveres his axe as religious item [-1]
Terrified of the Keepers of the Purple Flame and gives them everything they ask for [-1]


Skills
Administration (IQ+0) -10 [2]; Area Knowledge: Hunting Area (IQ+1) -11 [2], Axe/Mace (DX+4) -15 [16], Brawling (DX+2) -13 [4], Camouflage (IQ+0) -10 [1], Climbing (DX+0) -11 [2], Hiking (HT+1) -14 [4], Intimidation (Will+5) -17 [4], Jumping (DX+1) -12 [2]; Knife (DX+3) -13 [8], Leadership (IQ+2) -12 [8]; Operations (IQ-1) -9 [2]; Running (HT-1) -12 [1]; Scrounging (Per+5) -17 [4], Shield (DX+5) -16 [16], Shortsword (DX+2) -13 [8], Spear (DX+4) -15 [16], Soldier/TL 3 (IQ+8) -18 [16], Stealth (DX+0) -11 [2], Survival: Mountains (Per+5) -17 [4], Sumo Wrestling (DX+2) -13 [8]; Swimming (HT-1) -12 [1], Tactics (IQ+7) -17 [16], Theology (Orcish) (IQ-2) -8 [1], Throw Spear (DX+0) -11 [1], Two-Handed Axe/Mace (DX+2) -13 [8], Wrestling (DX+3) -14 [12].

Techniques
Armed Grapple: Shield (Shield+0) -16 [4]; Close Combat: Axe/Mace (Axe/Mace-2) -13 [3]; Feint: Shield (Shield+4) -20 [5]; Retain Weapon: Axe/Mace (Axe/Mace+4) -18 [5]; Targeted Attack: Shield Slam/Face (Shield-2) -14 [4]; Targeted Attack: Spear Thrust/Groin (Spear-1) -14 [3].


Gray Orc Template [15]
Attributes [130]
Secondary Attributes [10]
Social Background [7]
Perks [5]
Advantages [68]
Disadvantages [0]
Quirks [-5]
Skills [171]
Technique [24]

Total [425]

[Icelander]

In the last game session of our campaign, we had a large scale battle between humans and orcs. The players are living in the coastal city of Raven's Bluff in the Vast and it is there they are setting up their merchant company. Some of the adventuring companions, believing themselves little suited for the sort of social manuevering that would require, used the time to sign themselves up for a season or two as soldiers in the auxiliary forces of the city. Under their terms of service they agree to serve one month out of every three (and in case of emergency if they are called up) and receive a monthly stipend sufficent to survive.

One PC, in particular, has high hopes of a military career being what he needs to achieve a higher standing in society, perhaps eventually being knighted for valour. This character, "Brash" Mickey Carragher, is from the highlands of Cormyr and from a long line of military men. He's already had success as member of a privateer crew, but he felt that it was intolerable that any Carragher should not know his way around a battlefield and wishes to come home a veteran soldier and not just a maritime thug with a big sword.

The preceding months have seen the auxiliary companies serving as garrisons in temporary forts around the Vast while the light and medium cavalry, Hussars and Dragoons, hunt down orcs and other humanoids who raid close to human-controlled territories. A war three years ago has convinced many high officers of Raven's Bluff army that a strategy of waiting for the orcs to grow numerous enough to contemplate raiding again is ultimately a losing strategy. What is needed, at least one young firebrand on the staff of the 1st Hussars the PCs have met argues, is for the human cities to raid orcish territories and destroy the nests of the creatures.

A test operation was lauched with the 1st Hussars and elements of the 2nd Dragoons, using a platoon of auxiliaries as camp security and to escort the wizards temporarily assigned to the task force. This composite force was able to track a group of raiding goblins to their cave complex and with the aid of the wizards, flood the complex with poison gas and eliminate not only the current generation of warriors, but also the danger of any future raids from that particular tribe by culling the breeding stock.

The doctrine of forward defence gained approval with several more officers at the Light Brigade and the Brigadier of the newly constituted and highly controversial auxiliary troops was delighted to have a mission which the irregular troops could carry out. He indicated to the planners at Light Brigade that any need for infantry could be met with from his men, as long as he shared in the glory.

The PCs, as PCs will do, had been involved in a desperate skirmish or two during this time and even carried out a covert mission to capture an emissary from Zhentil Keep, or at least the masters of that place, the Zhentarim, an organisation originally dedicated to mercantile power by any means but increasingly taken over by the clergy of Bane, Lord of Tyranny. This emissary was supplying one of the orc tribes, the Dark Throne, with coin and magic in return for their service of raiding only those caravans the Zhents wanted stopped.

After that capture, the orcs were given a forged letter from the Zhents and ordered to attack a horse-transport caravan when it passed through the Earthfast Mountains. The caravan, of course, was a deliberate trick designed to make it easier for the Light Brigade to strike a blow against this powerful orc tribe. The escort of the caravan was a company of the 2nd Dragoons and the rest of that regiment followed as closely as it could without scaring off the orc raiders. The Hussars were then detailed to hide as close as they could to the area where the ambush was likely to take place and to ride hard to the rescue once it happened. The horse-transport wagons were then packed with auxiliaries instead of horses.

The plan was for the 300 strong auxiliaries and Dragoons to simply form a shield wall and hold out until the couple of hundred Dragoons arrived to shatter the orcs. The 300-men regiment of Hussars was for the pursuit more than the battle, since the orcs were unlikely to send more than two hundred warriors against a company of dragoons if they knew they had suprise on their side. Some veterans among the auxiliaries may have expressed doubts amongs themselves that the orcs would be so obliging, but their grumbling did not reach anyone in charge.

The orcs didn't send two hundred. Instead, almost the whole tribe geared up for war. Tyrant Ugluk Balefire, the chief of the tribe, reasoned that anything which interested the Zhentarim enough to order it destroyed would also be guarded by elite troops, magic or both. He marched himself with a force of almost hundred hunters and scounts, a whole hundred deadly orc longbowmen and a host of four hundred orc warriors, including many mailed veterans and his private guard of twenty picked orc champions in human-made steel cuirasses.

The ambush was set in a wooded section of Elfblood Pass, the site of many battles between orc and man, orc and elf or orc and dwarf. The main orcish host readied itself where the narrow pass widened out into a small valley and they could form a decent shield wall while the scouts moved behind the human caravan where the pass was only under a 100' wide, to cut off their escape. The longbowmen spread themselves on the ridges on both sides of the mountain pass, hidden in the thickly overgrown brush and trees. It was raining and late evening when the humans reached the ambush location.

The 2nd Dragoons is a good regiment and their scouts caught the ambush before it was sprung. The cavalry wheeled into battle formation and returned fire with the light horse crossbows they carried. But the orcish longbowmen could fire faster than any crossbow and their long, black arrows struck with terrible force against men, shields and horses. For several long and awful moments, the cavalry was stuck under the arrows, with no direction appearing to offer anything over another.

The auxiliaries streamed out of their overloaded wagons, clad in mail hauberks and carrying shields and spears. Some lay down under the wagons and others formed a ragged formation of shields. Officers started to shout for the dragoons to abandon their horses and join the hastily erected shield wall. Yet that was merely to delay the inevitable. The fusilade of arrows was far more than the humans had expected and if they stayed put under it until relieved by the cavalry, they would suffer grievous losses. But even worse than that was the fact that less than 300 men didn't stand much of a chance against an orc shield wall if they met it while spread out like this and with some lying under wagons for cover. If they stayed, the orcs would be sure to advance their wall and massacre them.

The only viable place for a defence was back some fifty yards, where the pass narrowed, but that place was already held by orcs. They were several dozen there and getting stronger by the minute. Already longbowmen had climbed down the treacherous slopes of the pass to gain a clear shot at the cowering humans and it seemed that soon enough the orcs would be many enough to make it impossible to dislodge them.

Against the recommendation of the captain of the 1372 DR Auxiliary Company, the Lt. in charge of the PC's platoon ran through the rain of orcish arrows and got permission from the major in charge to lead his men in a charge at the narrow end of the pass. In fact, seeing quickly the predictament his men were in, the major dispatched the rest of the force after them.

After a hard skirmish where orcish longbows proved to be able to penetrate the cheap butted mail issued to auxiliaries at point blank range like so much butter, the orcs were driven up the slopes and the human force was able to make something resembling a battle line. Knowing the risk of being surrounded, the major sent a platoon up on each side to scour orc bowmen and skirmishers away toward the main orc force while he busied himself with forming his men into a shield wall.

Mickey Carragher felled an orcish unit leader trying to rally his archers, but took a bad spear wound doing it. He downed a potion of healing and refused to be taken to the casualty collection point behind the thin human shield wall. Others were not so lucky and Mickey estimated that at least half of his platoon were either wounded or dead after running the gauntlets of arrows to get there.

The wounded were lying strewn around the wagons, directly in the way of the way of the orcish horde. Everyone knew that those unable to drag themselves up and behind the human shield wall would die and probably die badly. The young officer commanding Mickey's platoon, Lt. Therageon, who had called for the retreat earlier now volunteered to go out after some of the wounded. He asked for some men to come with him. Corporal Natter, the professional soldier in charge of Mickey's squad, had told him never to volunteer for anything. Mickey was 19, however, and pretty sure he was invulnerable, so he ran into orc longbow fire and started dragging two seriously wounded men back.

Orc scouts and light troops ran ahead to deal with the humans, but Bruknir Malletfist, a dwarven Battlerager serving some time in the auxiliaries, had been waiting to get into a wild melee. He stopped the first scouts and hammered a few into bloody ruin. By the time the orcs had rallied into proper formation to deal with him, Mickey and the few men brave enough to volunteer had pulled the wounded they could reach behind the lines. Just as he got there, the wounded man he had on his back took an arrow, but Mickey didn't know if it killed him.

[Icelander]

Mickey took up his position in the shield wall, just before the orcs reached them, standing between Corporal Natter and Pvt. West, an old comrade who had just returned to duty after having almost been killed by flying horrors two months ago. As far as Mickey could see, the three of them were what was left of his squad.

The ground shook under the heavy boots of more than four hundred orcs, coming towards them. Ahead of the main host were the young ones or perhaps just the crazy ones, wild for glory or with bloodlust, running headlong at the human line. Corporal Natter, next to Mickey, assured him that those would die easy. It was the massed crush of bodies in the main shield wall that would be the hard part.

Mickey couldn't wield his two-handed claymore in such close quarters so he exchanged it for a large knife. Being left-handed usually meant that he carried his shield in his right hand, but today every shield needed to be locked to that of his neighbour and Mickey had fighting knife in the right hand and the shield in his left. He wasn't used to fighting like that, but as Cpl. Natter told him, it wasn't skill that counted in the press, it was savagery. Hold the shields linked, don't step back, push the bastards and jam your knife into their groins if you see a chance. No fencing and no individual duels, most of the time you don't have any idea what you're fighting or whom.

When the first orcs reached them, Mickey jammed his spear forward. The orc in front of him caught it on his shield, but another spear went under it and he screamed as the heavy spearhead severed the blood vessels in his pelvis. Mickey felled him with a brutal kick to the side of knee and he heard other spearmen thrusting into him as well. When he looked around, most of the orcs around him had met swift deaths or at least been knocked down, but then, they'd not been in formation. Behind them the orcish wall advanced.

The noise when the two shield walls met was indescribable. Part yells and war cries, part clash of weapons and over it all, the tremendous crash as more than sixty shields smash into each other. Mickey just concentrated on holding for a while, but soon enough he remembered to stab when he got the chance. A big orc pushed himself through and onto his shield, so close Mickey could smell his rancid breath and feel the heat of his body.

Smack, he threw his helmeted forehead into the orc's face and when he reeled at that, Mickey headbutted him again. Then he stepped forward over the toppling orc and jammed his knife into the groin of the next orc, before that one stopped pushing and realised he was in the front rank. With a mighty heave, Mickey threw the piteously screaming creature head first into the mass of his fellows and followed him, unlocking his shield in the process. Unwise, perhaps, but Mickey had always felt invulnerable and he was thirsty for glory.

His shield leading in a powerful slam, Mickey killed two more orcs before being forced to fall back by frantic orders of 'Back, back!' Evidently the left wasn't holding as well as the right and they were in danger of being cut off if they didn't give ground. The battle went on for ever, it seemed, with Mickey pushing, thrusting and kicking until he felt that his body would simply give out. Every time he felt that he had a chance to push forward and break the orcish shieldwall, his officers would order the right of the line to give ground to keep up with the rapidly shrinking left.

Mickey threw his knife at the face of a particularly ugly orc in the second rank who'd made several attempts to skewer him with a spear and his shield took several blows hard enough to split wood and expose the metal rungs holding it together. He grabbed an orc dagger from the ground, almost long enough to be called a shortsword, and kept stabbing and kicking his foes.

Finally, the order everyone had been dreading was given. 'Fall back, run, damn you!' bellowed Lt. Therogeon, his voice sounding less like a bull than a nervous calf. He was young, of course, probably younger than Mickey, but his father was a full General and his older brothers a Brigadier and Colonel, respectively. The right managed to fall back in reasonable order, with the orcs not managing to pursue closely, but the left was in chaos, completely broken.

Mickey didn't know if it was deliberate or just lucky timing, but just then the first brassy sounds of the cavalry horns were heard. The two companies of Dragoon reinforcement were there, finally. The first rank came on in a pell-mell charge against the orcish right, tearing into them and saving what remained of the human left. The next ranks came slower, firing short-stocked crossbows with calm deliberation, inflicting terrible slaughter at that short range and with the orcs scattered and out of formation.

But even with the reinforcements, the humans were outnumbered, and the cavalry did not press their charge. They screened the infantry while it attempted to rally the left and the remnants of the right flank pulled themselves into something resembling order and then the Dragoons, trained as both infantry and cavalry, started to dismount and prepare to form new defensive lines. The believed that the battered orc lines would need a long time to recover and prepare themselves for a new offensive, if indeed they ever would.

The orcs did not need time. Tyrant Ugluk Balefire, chieftain of the Dark Throne tribe, knew that speed and ferocity broke the enemy and through the darkness and rain he could see their preparations through torchlight. He didn't form ranks or send his remaining bowmen to flank the human force, he simply screamed the praises of his dark god, Bane, and charged with all that remained of his orcs.

His charge was ragged, of course, and many of the scouts and longbowmen were reluctant to charge the humans, reinforced as they were by 200 fresh cavalrymen. But the elite fighters of the tribe needed to cajoling or pressing and were packed in a fearsome wedge that thundered at the humans. Where the new defensive lines had not yet been formed. A half company of dismounted Dragoons with their crossbows held the mouth of the Pass and behind them were the remnants of 1372 Aux, a mere thirty men. The rest were further behind, the Dragoons divesting themselves of horses in preparation for their role as infantry and the rest of the former defensive line still being rallied.

The Dragoons fired one volley and then fell back in good order. They knew that fifty men wouldn't stop more than 200 orcs, even if they orcs weren't in ranks and file. Their volley was superbly executed and tore the eager young orc warriors in front lines to pieces, exposing the chiftain and his personal guard behind them. But there were no human troops to take advantage of the confusion. None except the thirty auxiliaries behind them, tired and some of them wounded.

[Icelander]

The CO of the company was a Captain Mival sar Kazar who traced his ancenstry to a minor king somewhere, but had been a drover and cartmaker for a few years before rejoining the army. He ordered his men to fall back before the orcs, but the young Lt. Therogeon yelled back that if they fell back there was no one to hold them. Captain sar Kazar said that wasn't their problem and there was no reason to stand and die holding useless ground they'd give up later anyway. Lt. Therogeon then laid him out with a perfect right hook to the jaw.

'Right, we're gonna hold them!' Mickey saw Cpl. Natter wince at the idea that thirty men could hold so many orcs, but the Corporal grabbed a spear from a dead orc and glared at his two remaining men. Mickey grinned and threw away his shield, drawing Cairlachan, his magical claymore, from his back. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, the remnants of the human company just barely managed to cover the narrow pass, but it seemed impossible that the orcish horde wouldn't just flow over them without a ripple.

The grizzled Colour Sergeant of the company, CSgt. Moore, attempted to dress the ranks enough to enable the men to stand, even though he had a broken-off arrow standing out of his side and was bleeding from underneath his helmet. But Lt. Therogeon had his eyes fixed on the black standard of the orcish tribe, held by a huge brute in blackened plate armour standing next to the chieftain. 'Death or glory!' he screamed and charged into the fray with his ridiculously slim rapier held over his head.

Mickey was the first to follow, Cairlachan singing as he killed three orcs with two wide sweeps. This was fighting as he knew and loved it, no ranks and no orders, just sheer bloody chaos and the joy of slaughter. He whirled his magically keen blade a whole circle when he was sure that he was surrounded by orcs and hacked down almost a dozen of his foes in the span of a few moments. His mail and plate sufficed to keep him safe from most blows, but an axe caught him on the back and drove the breath from him as well as causing an ugly gash. No matter, Mickey was too fired up to stop and take stock of his many injuries.

When he stood face to face with the standard bearer of the orcs, Mickey was surprised. He hadn't planned on going after the standard, indeed, he hadn't planned on anything. But he hacked down the huge champion with a lightning stroke of his sword and looked around him for other foes. Lt. Therogeon was locked in combat with Ugluk Balefire himself, Tyrant of the Dark Throne, and only a desperate series of retreats had saved him from the heavy pollax that dread chieftain wielded.

Mickey jumped over the corpse of the standard bearer and thrust Cairlachan into Ugluk's flank. The enchanted tip of the blade slid through steel and ribs, drawing in involuntary grunt of pain. Seeing his chance, Lt. Therogeon lunges his rapier for the tusked face and impales one eye. Slowly, Ugluk Balefire sinks to his knees.

Mickey gets pulled away by the chaos of battle for a moment, whirling his blade to gain some breathing space and keep foes from his back, but Lt. Therogeon bends down and grabs the black standard. He waves it triumphantly and the surviving men rally around him. There's Cpl. Natter, with a look of disapproval but covered in orc blood; there's CSgt. Moore overcome at last with his wounds; there's Pvt. West with a fierce grin on his normally placid face and Mickey with bright Cairlachan at the ready in both hands. The orcs still outnumber them, but few indeed are willing to risk that particular knot of humans.

When a company of the returning mounted Dragoons charged, firing their crossbows before hitting canter, the orcs had already decided to retreat. Their retreat quickly turns into a rout, with whooping Dragoons hunting them across the valley like hunters after fox. Less than a hundred of the more than six hundred orcs that came to Elfblood Pass would leave it again.

[petritis]

I was led here from another thread. I was looking for characters to place into adventures, and these look very useful, so I guess I will have to 'borrow' some of them.
Now all I need is to hope that my players don't dig into this before they meet some of them.

Thank You.