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Orbs of orange and red fire zipped between the trees and exploded on Cire’s heels. On the plus side, he had drawn one of the casters from the main battlefield. On the negative side, he had drawn the attention of one of the casters! The spells were interspersed with deadly arrows and other projectiles. He didn’t have many options except to escape before his enhancements wore off. Cire poured on the speed.

The fireballs started to taper off along with the other ranged attacks as he got deeper into the forest. Cire attributed it to not wanting to waste arrows or mana. A pile of mossy boulders in his path blocked out a small gully shrouded by large oaken canopies. Cutting quickly around the corner to maintain cover, Cire was agape at what he had run headlong into.

Arrayed throughout the gully, hemming him in on all sides, were easily over fifty gnolls, maybe over a hundred. Blood covered, without a shirt, and armed with only his talons; Cire felt woefully outmatched. Memories of Sunset being flooded by an overwhelming host, the tavern surrounded on all sides, crashed through his thoughts like the Swiftwater River during the spring thaw. A savage roar was the only warning the gnolls had before Cire struck.

The vampire had enough presence of mind to not repeat his previous mistake. He slashed at each of the closest gnolls, more to push them off balance than to deliver damaging blows. Their blocks were feeble and the pitchforks they brandished were unwieldy, easy to avoid. Cire dodged and moved past them.

Kicking up leaves as he accelerated with a mana infused footfall, Cire bowled through a small gangly gnoll. Other canines in the circle had started to react, many scattering to the walls of the depression. Yips of panic echoed around the semi-enclosed space. Several small gnolls hid behind larger ones, clumping up in odd numbered bunches.

Only two groups stood between the vampire and the exit to the gully across from him. Fully extending his arms while readying his claws, Cire charged at the closest one. There were maybe five, they had wooden and metal implements brandished towards him. Cire prepared to unleash an empowered slash to start the engagement off with a decisive declaration.

A look of pure terror, wide eyes and lolling tongue, swept over the gnolls face as she froze in place. Shimmering around Cire, a white-silver glow suffused his form. Cire felt the gentle caress of Selene press against him, and he stopped in his tracks. There was no way to mistake the goddess’ touch for anything else. Ever since his visit to her temple the lingering memory of his experience flitted often through his thoughts.

Suffusing his mind, a clarity as cold as moonlight bloomed. A flash of concentrated light emanated from his crown as the goddess’ power channeled through the item and faded. Cire’s vision swept the crowd of gnolls again and he noticed illuminated details that his battle focused mind had dismissed. None of them held true weapons, only farming implements and hiking sticks. More than half of the gnolls were pups cowering behind gray furred elders or crutch using infirm. Most importantly, they were absolutely scared witless.

Cire took a step back. He had seconds at most to make an irrevocable decision. One of the pups stepped before an adult they had been hiding behind and threw a rock at Cire, it missed badly.

If I attack these gnolls, these people, if I attack these people it wouldn’t be self defense or in open combat. I would be the aggressor, maybe I already am and I don’t know it. Maybe we don’t know it.

A honking sound trumpeted from the canopy above as a flutter of white wings flew between the branches. It broke the silence and distracted a significant number of the gnolls who were already on edge. Cire made up his mind.

Lowering his hands to his sides, he didn’t think displaying the talons by raising his hands would give the best impression, he took a slow step to the side of the group. Then Cire inclined his head towards the end of the gully leading out of the sheltered area. He took another step when none of the gnolls moved. Some of them shifted, clearing a path from him or pressing back as far as they could.

Gritting his teeth, Cire took slow agonizing steps trying not to show any aggression. Heart beats thundering in his ears made the calm movements difficult. He didn’t have time to waste, but rushing would only lead to ruin. When he had made it over two thirds of the way to freedom he heard the howls.

Most of the gnolls went rigid, but one let out a return howl. It sounded crisp and clear echoing across the small ravine’s walls. Cire ran.

A flurry of movement burst from the crowd. Most moved in a rush towards the side of the depression that Cire had entered on. Barking and howling filled the tight confines of the gully. Rocks flew at Cire. A couple caught him in the torso, but none of the makeshift projectiles inflicted significantharm.

Only a few strides from freedom, an elderly gnoll swung a stick at Cire’s legs. He easily hurdled over the obstruction. Actively resisting attacking back, the vampire ground his teeth and pressed on. In short order he had re-entered the overgrown forest. Cire’s breath came out in heavy pants as his mind grasped for a plan of action.

I don’t have enough time left in the ability to make it all the way around the field.

Cire’s pace slowed as he picked his way past a bramble bush too thick to run through.

What can I do to get out of this besides intervention from allies? No one knows where I am. Even if they did, I’m not even sure Eliana could get to me, let alone anyone else.

Scanning the forest as he ran, Cire shook his head a bit and angled his ears. Listening to the sounds around him, he got a good idea of how far away the chasing gnolls were. Most had gotten hung up in the gully, but several were already on his trail into the brush. Cire didn’t pick up anything else large in the woods, only small animals.

Only Small animals! That’s perfect.

Laughing out loud, especially given his current state of dress, made Cire come off as positively mad. He only got a reaction from a small flock of finches that startled from nearby cover. Looking around desperately, it didn’t take long for him to spot a good location.

A small brook rambled between the trees and Cire wasted no time in running down the middle of it. The gnolls superior tracking abilities were something that he had already encountered. Cire had no belief that he could stop them from finding his scent, he simply needed to buy some time.

Leaving the water, Cire immediately began stripping on the stream bank. The remains of his shirt, pants, boots, and pouch, less a healing potion, were stripped off and scattered. While downing the healing tincture he began picking his way through the trees again.

Once Cire found a large oak he paused at the base. Closing his eyes he used his ears to check on his pursuers once again. After confirming that he still had plenty of time before anyone caught up, he kept picking his way through the forest nude. It wasn’t pleasant, but Cire needed to time this perfectly or things could go very badly for him.

Heavy thrums of exhaustion began to emanate from deep within his muscles and Cire knew the moment was close. Finding a nearby tree, he clambered up the trunk. Once he was three to four stories up he found a good crook and snugged himself into it. Drawing his claws across the bark, he left four small rents marking his location.

As the Blood Rage ebbed it took its toll on his body. Cire’s muscles shrunk, bones re-aligned, his fangs and claws retracted. Left quavering and hanging desperately onto the tree, a flop sweat broke out on his forehead. With unsteady hands Cire untied the naga scrimshaw necklace from around his neck. He almost dropped it when it came free, but he managed to snag the leather cord.

Cire took off his crown and rings, then he strung the necklace through them. Next he tied them to a small branch. Climbing down from the tree, Cire took his time. Rushing right now easily lead to failure and he was running out of tricks. Dropping to the ground, Cire crouched and immediately fell to all fours.

Compressing and folding in on itself, Cire’s body began contorting and reforming for the second time in mere minutes. Patches of brown fur erupted along his body. His perspective changed dramatically as he took on the form and features of a small brown bat.

It was always odd to shift into such a tiny form. Suddenly everything felt so much larger and consequently he felt much more vulnerable. Cire managed better each time he shape changed, and even with desperate need, this occasion was no different. He was pulling himself up the tree trunk to a low branch rapidly. Moments later Cire was taking flight.

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By the time the gnolls were at the river he was hanging high up in the trees watching. There were only three of them who had followed. There was no longer any mystery as to why he had warranted such pursuit during the battle, he had threatened the most vulnerable members of their tribe. Now that he had fled, the same amount of resources were not being devoted to searching for him.

One of the gnolls, with piebald coloring, sniffed at the air after rummaging around in Cire’s strewn about clothing. The other two were clearly on guard, scanning their surroundings, but they kept looking back to the main battle and the rest of their tribe. Upon close and more relaxed examination, he could see how shoddy their weapons were. Spears with wooden tips and a rusted axe were all they carried.

The piebald ripped Cire’s pair of pants in half down the center and growled. Cire winced, he was going through clothes too quickly. The somewhat lighthearted thought died as he watched one of the dark brown furred gnolls gesture towards his path away from the brook. Moving deeper into the forest, the canines tracked Cire’s movements from the river to each of the trees he had stopped at while waiting for his ability to taper off.

A barking conversation between the three suggested to Cire that one of them was either wary about continuing to chase him or convinced that it was simply best to return to the battle. Looking up into the branches from the base of the current tree they were positioned under, the grumbling barks grew in volume as all they spotted was wildlife.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes the gnolls gave up at the sound of a cascade of howls from seemingly every other gnoll in the forest. They had walked several circles under Cire’s position, but not once had they tried to scale the trees. Loping with haste out of sight across the stream the gnolls left.The small bat let out a squeak of relief.

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Obelius’ forest elemental had decidedly changed the state of the battlefield. It wasn’t a complete route, butthe elves were able to regroup into the keep and largely pull themselves from the field. Plenty had injuries that were being tended to by the few healers in critical cases and with herbs or, rarely, potions in others.

Several of the elven host had fallen. Without powerful healing magic, far outside the expertise of any present, they wouldn’t rise again. Those lost were student and guard alike. The chaos of battle held no certainties. This was an early lesson that laurels were heavy even on victorious heads.

Without time to mourn, the dead had been pulled into the first level of the fortifications and covered. Lucas, the head of the guard, was busy sending injured up to the second level while guarding the entrance. He shook his head as he saw Dimitri limping towards him.

“How are things looking out there? I haven’t gotten a peek recently.”

Grimacing, Dimitri responded while ducking into the keep.

“Better than things were. Kepheus has been able to keep any lose gnolls from getting into the forest behind us. Eliana marshaled everyone who can keep up with that elemental out there.”

Sucking in a breath through his teeth as a jolt of pain shot up his leg, Dmitri took hold of the rail on the stair case as he headed up the stairs.

“I obviously couldn’t, keep up that is. Got caught by a gnoll that it hit hard enough to break my knee when it landed.”

Before Lucas could ask any follow ups, Honeydrop buzzed into the room flying a quick circle to disperse her speed. She pulled up close enough to reach out and touch the wood elf’s ruddy cheeked elf’s nose. Lucas lurched back and tried to swat her on reflex. Honey easily floated backwards avoiding the blow. Then she drifted back to where she was with her hands on her hips.

“We have no time for that! The gnolls broke and are retreating. Anyone who can secure prisoners and recover wounded need to get moving.”

Lucas left Dimitri in charge of organizing things inside the keep with the wounded. He assigned an able bodied member of the guard to keep watch. Making his way outside, he kept his chin level walking past the corpses lined up on the floor. He was responsible for this catastrophe and no doubt would pay the price. If he could do anything to prevent more of his troops from falling, he had to.

Taking in the trampled and destroyed meadow, Lucas made a mental note for the countless time at this point not to anger mages. He had always tried to stay on Obelius’ good side, but this warranted blatant favors in his book. Looming tall over a crowd of kneeling gnolls the forest elemental easily cowed the disarmed foes.

Eliana saw him from her position on the other side of the prisoners and waved him over. There was an assortment of students and guard members busy tying the paws of the gnolls behind their backs. A pile of discarded weapons was off to the side out of reach. Making his way over, Lucas wasn’t surprised at what the two teachers had been able to pull out of the fire, but he was impressed.

“I have to say that we would have been in a terrible state without you instructor. Thank you for your leadership and personal contribution to the battle.”

Scowling, Eliana waved her off hand parrying the compliments like weak attacks.

“None of that. Round everyone up. Make sure there are not any stragglers waiting for us to let down our guard.”

She pointed to the far side of the clearing, tamped down from heavy movement.

“They retreated in that direction. We are in no state to hunt them down, but we need to keep ears on them.”

“I’ll have my best scout on it immediately.” Came Lucas’ reply a bit too eagerly.

Eliana let out a slow sobering sigh and tilted her body so that her whispered words had a chance of going unheard.

“It will be alright Captain. Obelius and I will explain things when we return. I took command, it will not be you who faces repercussions for our losses. Now, find that scout, better make it at least two and get them moving. We can’t afford to have them loose within the forest.”

With a salute, a flat hand over his heart, he nodded and jogged off. Under his breath Eliana could easily make out his self chastisement.

“Lieutenant actually, but I doubt I will hold that post much longer. I don’t deserve it.”

The palaestra had no time or inclination to spend any longer on that sort of drama. Quickly signing in elven handtalk she issued clipped orders to Honeydrop and Iaso. The former was to do a headcount of the students and have any stragglers or wounded found. For the later, she had check in with Obelius and report to her. Even Eliana didn’t know how long the elemental would last for and she did not want to be caught unaware when the spell came to an end.

Looking out over the wasteland that the once peaceful meadow had been, Eliana bit back a curse and made a small prayer to the gods in thanks. The broken bodies of tens of gnolls littered the field. In point of fact, there were more dead than they had thought had been arrayed against them before the outset of the confrontation. Eliana’s mind started whirring at the incongruent facts she was putting together. She had far too many unanswered questions.

Why are they here? This is far too many for a raiding party and far too few for an invasion. What is going on? Also, what is it the force I can feel emanating from that tower? Where did it even come from?

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Amon rallied her fleeing pack. She may not be a war chief, but from her observations there were none left standing. Hylas would recover, his wounds were significant, but they had been able to pull him to safety and heal him enough to walk. He had not regained his senses. The other shamans, and their sole wizard, had died or been taken captive. The responsibility fell to her.

The pack had gathered at the small ravine they had left all who couldn’t or shouldn’t be fighting. She wanted desperately to group with her cohort, their children, and comfort them. There wasn’t time for her to consider herself, she needed to decide a course of action that was best for them all. Amon found a Pack elder, Lykon, he had been a war chief many winters past and one of the few to live to an age of gray fur and missing teeth.

“Elder, the rest of the Pack leaders have fallen. I request advice. We must flee. But where? We only knew of the pass to the plains.”

Exposed teeth and stretched lips gave away Lykon’s mood as clear as the coughs before he answered. The days of travel had not treated him well.

“We only ever had three choices. The pass to the plains, hide in the forest, or chance the mountains.”

Amon tilted her head, her tongue flopping out as she cooled herself. She flicked her ears back and forth to demonstrate her unsure state. Drawing her tongue back she questioned further.

“We cannot hide, the elves will be following. They stand between us and the pass.”

“Yes, it appears as though we only have one choice. It will be tough, game will be sparse and predators many. We will lose more on the journey.”

The elder gnolls raspy words were heavy with implication, but an ear waggle conveyed his assent. Even if Lykon died, the pack must survive. No gnoll lived for themselves, only the group. The greedy and selfish were always cast out. In that same vein, there was no going back. A worse fate than a torturous death awaited them if they did.

Turning to the pack, many of their number worried or wounded, Amon barked out a declaration. She infused her words with a burst of mana and channeled it through her connection with the spirits. Intent formed the mana into a spell that resonated with everyone who heard it, bolstering their resolve.

“My sisters and brothers, daughters and sons, we must press on. We head east and we cannot stop until we cross into the mountains. This territory is too dangerous, we will not live if we press forward.”

Several growls rumbled at her from the remaining warriors, an unwelcome consequence of her spell. They would not leave this battle easily, even if outclassed so greatly, particularly now. Regardless of their bluster, their tails were between their legs and their ears were flattened. Whatever that elemental had been, they had no hope to defeat it and they knew it.

Amon couldn’t leave the challenge unanswered though.She had no time to waste on posturing. This was why they had war chiefs.

She growled and pounced on the closest warrior and pushed him to the ground. With strength far greater than hers, honed from years of labor and practice, he could have thrown her off. The warrior went limp under her as Amon bit his throat. Her words came out muffled, but still brimming with ethereal strength.

“You will follow, you will all follow. Every moment of delay puts us in danger.”

Amon released the warrior and stood to her full height while displaying her staff of power menacingly. Then she walked with haste to the exit of the ravine and gestured for the rest to follow. A single yip carried from her and was returned by the others.

“For the pack!”