The melee becomes a chaotic affair that suits the drows capabilities just fine...the orcs may as well be fighting air for all the good it does them in trying to connect. They have a lot more luck dealing with the magically ensnared companion...surprisingly they don't cut him down, although he is pummeled into unconsciousness for his troubles. Another orc down...and as she leaps over the table into a perfect position to prevent herself from being swarmed she can just catch out of the corner of her eye the leader holding...<br/><br/>"I think that's about enough." a cold voice echoed out. The half-orc leader clutched one of the farmgirls, holding her in front of him in a death grip while a shiny and very sharp knife was held to the poor girls through. Her eyes were wide with terror and the blade was sharp enough that even that act of holding it to her skin drew a thin line of red against her skin. "You might be able to kill me, girl, but how many of those you came to save would survive? Throw down your weapons, and I promise everyone will live..." a humorless smile curled on his lips "After a fashion."