Donir's fists pummel the last orog, filling the halls of Delvindraz with thunderous claps three times over. The beast's greataxe clatters against the floor just before the orog collapses lifeless at the artificer's feet.

Round 7 concludes

Whether unaware of, or undeterred by, the bleak circumstances around it, the orog atop the granite column maintains its furious attack on Gwin...

Kridash's eyes briefly flash a mixture of confusion and hopelessness in response to Brevig's suggestion to relent. The terrible orc quickly turns Dhamab on himself, opening a long gash across his shield-wielding forearm (causing 11 piercing damage) before turning the blade on the paladin with three blindingly-fast strikes...

Brevig not only feels the sting of Kridash's blade but also a strange sense of being weakened significantly. The paladin discerns he may have trouble swinging his morningstar effectively...

(All players may act, in any order. Kridash is significantly wounded; orog 5 is unharmed; the shaman entered the secret passageway last round)

Donir charges the orc chief, downing a vial of questionable substance as he moves, which causes some of his wounds to seal themselves up. Once he reaches Kridash, he delivers a flying punch to the orc's sternum, following it up by spinning the corner of his shield into Kridash's neck.

Recognising the significant threat posed by Kridash, Patrin initially focuses his attacks there, sending two blasts of coruscating force slamming into him...

The orc war chief turns and fends of Donir's initial strike, but he takes the full force of the artificer's shield blow to the neck. Kridash falls to one knee, making himself an easy target for Patrin's evocation. The eldritch blast twice smashes into the orc's chest and knocks him violently onto his back, where he lies at Brevig's feet. 

As the final bit of life flows out of Kridash, he weakly utters, "Dhamab...afflicts..."

(Actions for Fargoth and Gwin remain. The lone orog is the final combatant)

Brevig kneels at Kridash’s side, careful not to touch his blade. ‘In truth, the orc chief could easily have chosen not to offer such a warning. Amaunator’s Laws tell us that Charity at the moment of death is none too soon, but nor, perhaps, too late.’
The paladin holds Kridash’s eyes firmly so that he needn’t die alone. “You will suffer if you cross the River Styx, but this at least I will grant you, fell leader.”

Although not at full strength, seeing the orc chief fall strengthens Gwin's resolve to try and finish off the final orog. Drawing in a deep breath and blowing the errant wisps of hair out of her face upon exhale, the cleric wrinkles up her nose in concentration. The atmosphere crackles with divine electricity as Gwin's spell reaches everyone's ears.

Seek your target fast and true!

As lightning envelopes the room in light converging into one single bolt that screams toward Orog 5, the dwarf raises her open palm to the ceiling, and then, as if she had the hilt of Tyr's sword in her hand, brings it down upon the creatures neck.

Fargoth nocks another arrow, but releases the tension in his bow when he sees the chief fall and Brevig attend to him.  Glancing west to check for any new threats, he calls down the stairs to the paladin.  "He is dead?  And has the threat passed?"

'Not passed!' shouts Patrin 'We have an Orog here, and a running shaman...'

Both of Gwin's efforts to dispatch the orog fail, but the scowl on her face quickly fades when the beast turns and flees. Seeing that Kridash has fallen and knowing that he alone remains, the orog chooses flight over fight. He leaps off the column of granite to flee through the northeast hallway where he is immediately met by the full force of four grey gnomes and a xorn. Wounded grievously, the orog places the blade of his axe against his chest and falls to the floor, plunging his own weapon deep into his chest and thereby robbing his foes of the chance to deal the final blow. 

Nim, Glint, Gleer, Rizzlepick, and Crunch step into the circular room. Their countenances and wounds indicate they never left Delvindraz and must have faced a few foes themselves. 

Round 8 and all combat has concluded

A total of twenty-nine Hi-Thoror fell in the battle, five of which were slain by the gnomes during a fray in the eastern room. The orc shaman, they explain, was one of them. With a single thrust of his shortsword, Glint brought her down after she entered the room through yet another secret door.

For Brevig:

Brevig replies, “The threat of losing oneself in violence and transforming from hero to vigilante to tyrant...or to mindless killer, friend Fargoth, is always present. We must ever be mindful of the potential to do good. Or to do harm,” and to all, he shouts, “Beware the chieftan’s blade, for it is cursed, as we were warned. Do not touch it until we’ve time to capture it with care.”

"Has it a sheath? If so, I can place it within my bag without fear of it ripping. The bag's interior is a sort of demiplane outside of our own, it may help to dampen any influence the blade may have on us."

Patrin nods 'Wise words. No-one touch the thing, until we can do so safely.'

He turns to Gwin, 'Thank you for your timely aid, and apologies if I inadvertently drew their attention onto you without warning. I was close to death there, despite this...' he indicates his cloak 'It's clear that I need to pursue the acquisition of some improved armour at the earliest opportunity...'

He then heads over to examine Kridash's corpse, being careful to avoid contact with the blade.

Slightly obscured by Kridash's shield is the sheathe for Dhamab. As Patrin approaches the fallen war chief, the dragonborn's bit of divination allows him to see that the blade possesses multiple magical properties: swirling about it are auras of enchantment, evocation, and necromancy. Of the three, the aura of enchantment is the most prevalent. 

"Donir and Patrin, come close. Everyone else keep your distance! The sword speaks to me with enticements. Beware!”

If Donir and Patrin come close, Brevig continues, eyes closed and chin held high, “Amaunator, hear my plea. By the contracts of your Great Laws have I been promised your boons of watchfulness. Lend me — and my companions beside me — your strength of will for just a moment, Lord.”

 “Now let us see what can be done.” 

Patrin comes over to Brevig. 'Take a breath, and stay strong. We will help how we may...' He frowns for a moment in concentration, and a shimmering hand of force appears before him. 'I can move the blade without one of us actually coming into contact with it, once we have decided on how best to store it...'

"We can place it in the bag, and I can have my homunculus carry the bag along. It should be capable of holding the bag with ease, and can move at a faster rate than your mage hand without requiring anyone's active effort. What say you?"

Patrin uses his Mage Hand to take the sheath hidden by the shield, and moves the sheath over the blade, at least meaning that it’s physically less dangerous at least. Only then will his spectral hand pick up the blade and place the combination into the bag of holding...

Patrin's spectral hand slips the sheathe over Dhamab with relative ease. The next step is slightly more suspenseful, for the blade seems momentarily to resist being removed from Kridash's grip. Increasing his focus on the summoned hand, the dragonborn then succeeds in moving the weapon into Donir's bag of holding.

But just as Dhamab disappears into the bag, Patrin, Donir, and Brevig simultaneously hear--telepathically--the following words: Wield me. Elsewise he comes. 

Brevig engages telepathically if it is possible. ‘What threat is this, cursed blade? Who comes?’