22:32
As the lead trolls reach a point 200 feet from the walls, one of the wizards fires a bright display of Pyrotechnics into the air.

On this signal, the catapults launch a hail of missiles, some  firing heated barrels of pitch and others sending explosive kegs of alchemist's fire into the midst of the trolls.

Moments later, the archers fire and a hail of burning arrows rains down on the trolls. Then the wizards let loose a roaring mass of magical fire, covering the right-hand flank of the troll army with searing balls of flame.

Horst Arman leads a charge of the first third of the cavalry against the weakened right-hand rank of trolls. Some of the riders manage to inflict wounds on the gangly creatures, but the price is high. Many of the first wave of cavalry are felled by the trollish Greatswords.

Suddenly, the surviving cavalry are engulfed in brilliant blinding light. When the brightness dies down, the first unit of 100 riders lies dead on the fields, almost to a man.

Again focussing on the right-hand flank, the archers and wizards let loose another round of fireballs and flaming arrows. This time the combined force is enough to fell some of the trolls.

The second unit of cavalry charges the flank, swords felling many more of the burned trolls than during the first charge. Many of the trolls fight back fiercely, and again the toll is serious -- one quarter of the riders are slain. The surviving riders fall back and join the remaining unit. The combined group of the remaining 175 cavalry breaks off its attack and retreats.

Again the wizard and archers bombard the trolls, but already the spellcasters are beginning to tire. The fires which engulf the trolls are not as hot as before, but they are still enough to cause many more casualties in the trolls' ranks.

Almost a dozen groups of white trolls at the front of the formation form circles around what seem to be a disks of some sort. Flash attempts to shoot one of the disks, but misses.

One by one, each group of white trolls fires a translucent ray from their disk at the Rotan walls. There is a deep humming sound and some alarming creaking from one or two parts of the wall, but the fortifications hold.

Damalanthas' feet softly touched the floor of the gallery. The muffled horns of battle sounded frantically outside. It had been many years since he had set foot in the museum. The last time had been to claim the Ring of Wishes for himself, an act that dogged his conscience when founding the Manticorum. Well, no time for regret now. Surely it was for the best.
Damus looked up at the two remaining dragon paintings. The smug smile of Ayak confronted him. Their last meeting had been forced on both sides. It had taken two weeks to clear the smell of swamp from his hair. Helping dragons was a risky business, but the Manticorum had honoured Sylvester's call. Two of that original group were now lost.

Damalanthas gripped the sides of the painting and willed Ayak to answer the call. There was a great resistance, but the figure in the painting animated, a scowling wrathful face turned towards the bard.
"Do not pester me, Acid Magnet, I have no time for your games."
"Almost a cutting jest, but no games this time. I call upon you, aid us."
The dragon guffawed, "Aid you? That is bold, even for you Damalacid. No, Anwell escaped my guidance before -- he has chosen his fate. Goodbye, trollbait." The painting started to freeze again.

A few of the catapults are ready to fire again, and this time large rocks are the payload. Half a dozen trolls are smashed into the ground by these deadly missiles.

The archers let loose another round of arrows, but the wizards change their strategy. A stream of Melf's Acid Arrow's shoots forwards towards the groups of white trolls. Almost a score are drenched in acid as the arrows hit home.

Tam the Archer spots a large green troll change shape into a smaller brown troll. He tries to alert Flash, but by the time he does so, it is impossible to tell that troll apart from the other browns.

The marching brown trolls pause for a moment, while the whites fire another burst of rays at the walls. This time, they group some of the beams closer together. One set of three beams hits an upper section of the wall, close to where the Gnomish Laboratories once stood. A massive chunk of stone from the top part of the wall collapses forward, and three archers and a junior wizard fall with it.

Indo the Quill, makes several observations about the trolls' behaviour:

• Judging from Tam's sighting, the green trolls are able to morph themselves into the same shape as the brown trolls, making it almost impossible to target them specifically.
• The white trolls seem to need to work in units of either eight, or less often, four. Each time any of the groups of white trolls loses a member, they regroup with one of the other groups, and try to form a new group of eight (or as close to eight as possible). Indo suspects that the white trolls are more powerful in a group than they are individually.
• Indo agrees that the trolls are almost certainly going to rush the walls within a couple of minutes. Their bold and agressive strategy so far indicates that they do not intend to make this a long-term seige.

"I will give you the sword."
The dragon's head whipped around as Damus drew the dragon-slayer from its sheath. This close to the paintings it gleamed, humming with power. Hatred crossed Ayak's features. "How did you come by this blade, Bard? I will kill all who ever wielded it!"
"That is of no concern, it is yours if you aid us." Damalanthas held firm under the black's gaze.
"I will come and take it from your corpse after the battle. Thank you for showing me where it lies."
Then Damalanthas laughed. Hard and loud.
"I will not die here. I have escaped from far worse. But I promise you this, Ayak. If you do not aid us in this war I will make sure that each of your broodlings feels the bite of this blade. Every one. We hid them, I can find them. And I keep my promises. If we have no future, neither do you!"

"Decide dragon."

A few more of the catapults are ready to fire again, and several explosive kegs of alchemist's fire are lobbed onto the trolls. Several more trolls are wiped out in the explosions, but it becomes clear that the trolls will soon move too close to the walls for these weapons to continue being used.

The archers let loose a final volley of flaming arrows at the trolls and prepare to fall back. They are instructed to take up positions on the rooves of nearby houses, freeing up space on the walls for dwarven axe- and pikemen.

As the archers prepare to fall back, the wizards launch a dazzling volley of magic missiles, targetting the white trolls in particular. When the blaze of magic subsides, almost a dozen more white trolls lie still on the battlefield.

Working together, Elmiss Trium, Brovan Shorn and Elistair Insando conjure up a Wall of Fire in front of the trolls, almost 500 feet in length. The trolls are quick to pull back from the searing flame, but many of them are singed by the waves of heat billowing from the wall.

Meanwhile Souriin, Belimirar and Julius Ell all begin summoning fire elementals to do their bidding. Three of the members of Project Deathwatch -- Astra of Mistlewood, Elmythra Olgasdottar and Makor start conjuration spells of their own, calling undead shadows to their aid.

Lurik watched as  the trolls marched implacably towards the city walls. Even from this distance he could smell the charred flesh on some of the trolls overwhelming the pungent odour of nearby boiling pitch.

"Well", he thought as he cracked his knuckles, "time to teach those trolls a lesson". He was about to raise his hand to give the signal to start, when a slow tapping echoed off the wall. Shaking his head, Lurik turned to face Mother Nari leaning on her walking stick.

"Greetings Mother," he started.
"Cut the saluations," Mother Nari broke in, "what is the situation?"
After a short pause, Lurik replied "not good, they are tougher then expected."
"I see," she said, rolling up her sleeves, "What's the plan?"

Briefly, Lurik sketched out what he had planned. Mother Nari nodded, Lurik opened his mouth to suggest that the elderly lady might be safer off the wall, but then thought better of it.

Nodding to the three novices and their mentor nearby, Nari pointed at the white trolls, then either side at the brown trolls. Looking at the twins Domu and Domi, she indicated areas either side of the whites where the brown trolls were starting to spread out. The twins grinned and separated, running lightfootedly across the wall. Reaching their choose spots, they started to cast. Mother Nari made a sharp chopping motion with her arm, and the other novices started to cast. Mother Nari began a slow dance, her voice wailing and hissing out over the trolls. Nearby, Lurik also began to gesture and cast.

Jori Missle and Chardra of the Church of Artafor call forth mighty Spiritual Weapons. They begin to wield these mighty Greatswords against the trolls.

Two other Artaforian clerics -- Leddrar and Shatrock -- approach Euvgeni and Flash, and offer to bestow the strength of a bull on each of them for the duration of the battle. Both Euvgeni and Flash accept these blessing and gain unnatural boosts to their physical strengths. [Game effects: Flash gains a +5 Str bonus. Euvgeni gains a +2 Str bonus.]

Flash asks Rue Niam to find Horst Arman. He asks her to heal the cavalry officer's wounds and ask him to lead his men around the back of the trolls. The riders are not to engage the trolls unless they can do so without risk, but they are to set fire to the fields behind the trolls and take any opportunity they can to burn unconscious creatures.

In New Ivrea, Tekuna remembers that Damalanthas insisted on King Anwell playing a front-line role in the battle, and she begins to have some concerns about his safety. Uncharacteristically, the roguess uses her Chain of Transport to return to Rotan. She stands close to the King (but very well sheltered from any possible assult from the trolls), ready to evacuate him (and herself) to safety if needs be.

Euvgeni and Flash reorganise the front-line troops on the walls. Following the archers' lead, the wizards pull back to allow the dwarven axe- and pikemen onto the walls. Buckets and barrels of hot pitch are hastily pushed and pulled into place all along the walls in preparation for the trolls' assault.

Now that they have a more accurate assessment of the strength of the trolls, word is also sent out to the Rotan Merchant Guard units patrolling inside the city. They are to engage in hit-and-run tactics only, unless they outnumber the trolls at least three to one.

Following the combined onslaught of the wizards and priests, only a quarter of the white trolls remain standing. The majority lie either dead or incapacitated behind the burning curtain of fire.

But the battle is far from over. Near where Euvgeni and Flash stand there are sudden screams of terror -- a mixed group of archers and wizards appears to have simply exploded, spreading blood and gore over those standing nearby. Horrified, the Lords watch as more and more of the troops standing on the wall burst open -- dying instantly. More than a dozen groups of soldiers are affected and within a few seconds there are more than sixty dead. A stunned and shocked silence falls over those still standing.

Then, despite their heavy losses, the white trolls appear to regroup. Two bands of eight gather together and both focus on the area of the wall already damaged. Both Flash and Tam attempt to fire arrows at the disks the trolls are using, but the white trolls are so closely grouped around the devices that it is impossible to get a shot in. Simultaneously, two beams shoot towards the wall from the white trolls. There is an awful grinding and tearing noise and a section of the wall a dozen feet wide disappears. A dwarven pikeman standing nearby loses his footing and tumbles forwards. He hits the group beneath the wall and does not get up. The wall has been breached...

"So first you try to bribe me, and then you try to threaten me?" sneered the black dragon. "You have much to learn about bargaining with dragons!"
"I will help you, but on my terms only. If I help you fight your trollish enemies, you will give me the sword, but you will also be bound to repay me a favour, which I will determined sometime in the future. This favour may carry risks, but will not cause you or your companions needless harm."
"I will bargain with you no further. Either you accept this proposal, or you do not. Decide, bardling!"

Relief flooded the bard, but he maintained his firm posture. What price was a sword and favour compared to the city Rotan and countless lives.
"A hard bargain Ayak, but a fair one. It's a deal," replied Damalanthas, feigning resignation. As the Bard gripped the arcane painting and began summoning the dragon, the words of his old mentor Camanthalar came back to him - "Never deal with dragons, my boy. You always get more than you bargain for." Damalanthas had a strange feeling he would live to prove those words correct.
"Come forth, Ayak!" the painting began to vibrate and shimmer, Damus dropped it to the floor and jumped back.