With one final crash, the gates of the besieged Watchtower of Baden Falls give way, splinters of wood flying through the air and into the fire-wreathed archway. The yelps of triumph from the invaders quickly turn to shouts of panic, fear, and pain as the first wave tries to make their way into the unanticipated inferno. The heated pitch has started to melt out from the barrels, slicking the ground with a flaming black goo that underlies the wall of flame forming the defenders' last battle line.
Caedmon gives the approaching gnoll one more look before nudging Ken. "Time to make tracks," he suggests as he sheathes his blade and runs to the spot where the horses are waiting. The ranger vaults into his saddle with a smooth movement and looks to Rives, sitting astride the tall warhorse Strider, for the signal to charge.