“Shhh!!!”

There it was again. A slight rustle in the leaves. A novice to these woods would almost think it to be the wind, but not him. This was something more than the wind. The splintering of a twig, from the northern edge of the forest alerted his ears of the movement. Standing a few feet away, a short figure in torn breeches held still. The palms of his grey-skinned hands were gripping the hilts of his blades in hesitation.

Again, his senses told him to move, but he continued to hold his ground in silence. Slowly he unsheathed his blade, his talons gripping the end of the sword with perfect balance. Squinting his eyes, the figure garbed in black only then gave an expression of recognition.

A chirp came from somewhere above him. The woods were too silent.
Using his free hand, he made a gesture to the duergar a few feet away, motioning him to come closer. The duergar made no movements.
From somewhere even closer came a throaty growl, as if an angry mother bear was in the foliage.

Make no sudden motions but be prepared to move.

He whispered, “Bardock, get over here, now!”

Transfixed, the duergar stared straight ahead, inching his way toward a cluster of bushes. The avian figure was torn between pulling the duergar to safety or drawing out the enemy. His situation was becoming worse by the moment.

Another feral growl resounded across the forest floor, like that of an angry panther.

Bardock knew when he was prepared for a battle. It was usually preceded by sweat running down his beard. He could sense movement on the forest floor, but could not see any sign of life. That alone meant something was about to happen. Inching his way toward a small spread of bushes, he knew he could eliminate the opponent quickly enough to get back to his leader.

Only a few feet closer.

With his other hand, he reached into his pouch and grabbed a small orb. Squinting again he looked towards the brush in which the duergar was headed. Something was not right. Every sense in his body began to scream to him.

Suddenly thorns began to sprout from the ground, forming around the base of the trees. The earth heaved slightly, more vines emerging from the surrounding plant-life in a formation meant to route any form of retreat. It was too late.

Get out!!

The forest exploded in action! From the southern end of the forest came a grunt, as a massive figure in greens and browns barreled into the avian creature, smashing him against the base of a tree with brutal force.

From somewhere in the brush there came a chanting as energies began to coalesce from among the trees.

Ribs cracked, must move.

A short burst from his wings and using his legs to leap, the black-clad figure managed to grab the branch above him. Using his momentum, he swung himself up and onto the perch.

Suddenly fearsome growls came from the ground below. Even for him, a seasoned veteran of war, the sight was gut-wrenching.

The attack Bardock expected from in front of him came from behind. He turned in time to see his leader bowled over by a giant figure in mottled forest colors. Just as his Commander regained his senses and leapt away, the giant’s axe found itself deep in the tree where his commander had fallen.

A blinding pain suddenly shot up his spine! His hands would not react, unable to unsheathe his swords in time. Raking claws tore across his chest, blasting him across the earth. Where he fell, a tremendous force of water shot up from the ground, robbing him of what little senses remained. He tumbled to the side, rolling with the impact. More raking claws connected with the flesh of his leg, shooting waves up pain across his frame. Attempting to parry an incoming axe with his blade, he grunted in pain as cold steel embedded itself deeply in his back. Blood began to fill his mouth. He no longer felt the pain, only a dull throbbing as his body began to convulse in spasms on the ground.

Intronan sat atop the tree branch, holding his crushed ribs. Staring down at the carnage below, he knew there was nothing he could do. He could not help but feel a sense of guilt as another ambush took another villager’s life. A small figure in arcane robes stepped from the bushes and glanced up at the trees, searching for the whereabouts of the arial. Intronan knew he should not linger here too long. He watched in horror as a feral creature padded forward motioning towards the mountain lion ripping at the corpse of the duergar. Hefting a massive axe, the cloud giant stepped over the corpse and decapitated it. Holding the head high for the rest of the attackers to see. A figure with pointed ears stepped forward, uttering a few words and disappearing from sight. Another giant lumbered from the forest and surveyed the attack, nodding his head and glancing around for the escaped assassin. In the back of his mind the thought remained:

You should have done something.