Fea'en watched the first barrage land to devastating effect. Over a dozen warriors were already down or injured. Of course, as Jack had explained would happen, some of the momentum was lost over the distances involved, so more of the bolts had deflected off the enemy's bone plate that she'd hoped, but this was at least as effective as a barrage of throwing spears. Also, at such great distances, even if this were a flat field, they'd have time for another few volleys before the enemy would be able to reach them, and each volley would hit all the harder as the distances were closed. With these weapons, an untrained worker could threaten even the best-trained warriors.

As S'haar started her charge off to the right, Fea'en shouted more orders to the workers. "Reload! Make it quick!"

Leading by example, The craft master extended the slide out the front of her own belly bow, bracing it against the ground. Then using all the weight she could muster, she grabbed the two rear handles and leaned into the device, pressing it into the ground, causing the bow slowly draw back as the locking mechanisms kept the tension from releasing. This was one of the few times the heavier workers had a distinct advantage in combat since they could set their bows to much higher levels of tension, but once she'd gotten the bow as drawn as she could, Fea'en knocked the bolt in place, and looked around, waiting to see when the rest of the workers were ready to fire.

Due to the increased momentum from running down the slope, S'haar was already almost in combat. Still, Fea'en frowned. Some of the workers had obviously been slacking in their training. They should have already fired off another barrage. Unwilling to wait longer, the craft master noted who'd need remedial training before shouting more commands. "Take aim!"

Following her own command, Fea'en raised her belly bow into position. Being fired from a position braced against her stomach, it was impossible to be anywhere near as accurate as Lon'thul was able to be with his bow, but luckily with this many bolts firing, they didn't need to be. She took aim at some of the warriors who'd decided to try and charge up the hill. "Fire!"

Pressing the trigger on the bottom of the weapon, the bolt flew out. The loud "thum" sound the string made as it returned to its resting state echoed all around her as another barrage flew down the hill toward their targets. Evidently, most of the workers had followed her example in aiming for the warriors headed up the hill because they were all sent flying back down, each one filled with nearly a half dozen bolts.

The way things were going, this was going to be a slaughter. A part of her reveled in the hunt, but another part was terrified to realize such a brutally effective hunt had been orchestrated by the usually timid Jack. Over time, Fea'en learned to respect that the human was quite capable of designing and crafting wonders. Still, it was all too easy to look at his small stature and gentle nature and forget it was this male who'd once gone to war alone against one of the largest raiding parties the valley had ever seen and not only prevented them from marching for the better part of a night and day but successfully took out over a third of their numbers in that one night.

Witnessing the brutal efficiency of one of his plans in action, the craft master felt like she was catching a glimpse into the mind of such a creature and found herself wondering what else Jack would be capable of given time and necessity.

Looking down the hill, Fea'en could see another force of warriors grouping together to charge up the hill. The problem was this group would be positioned almost directly between them and Jack and Ger'ron's position by the time the workers could load another round, meaning any bolts that missed their target could take out friends instead of enemies.

Coming to a quick decision, the craft master slung her belly bow across her back and grabbed a spear, turning to the workers behind her, she gestured at more than a dozen of them. "You lot, stow or drop your bows and grab some spears. We'll charge down the hill and take out that group charging up to the left. The rest of you, Em'brel, is in charge. Continue firing down the hill, but aim wide of any friends. I don't want to hear about a single worker or guard getting hit by one of our bolts, or you'll all wish the warriors had gotten ahold of you before me!"

After barely a moment's hesitation, the workers in question leaped into action, grabbing their spears while Em'brel took over shouting commands as Fea'en had done. "Load!" As the remaining workers started loading their belly bows, Fea'en looked at the workers holding spears. "Alright, we're not doing anything fancy here. Just charge down at the warriors coming up the hill. They'll be more exhausted than us from going up the hill, where the hill will actually aid us. So just aim the pointy end toward the enemy, and let your momentum do the rest."

Looking around, she could see some of the workers were excited, and others seemed more grim, but all had the resolve to do their part. With a nod of acknowledgment to her charges, Fea'en grinned. "Alight, time for us to join in the action. Ready… Charge!"

With that, the craft master led the way down the hill, flanked on either side by the workers she's taught in day-to-day tasks in more peaceful times, now following her to war. A part of her couldn't help but get caught up in the hunt's rush. Fea'en grinned as she charged headlong down the hill toward her prey.

-

Jack's world was one of whirlwind and chaos. Riding on the back of Grim, it was all he could do to maintain his seat half the time and keep himself and Grim alive the other half. But, unfortunately, there was no time to plan his next moves as he sighted in on another argu'n aiming for Grim's vulnerable flank.

Of course, that didn't mean his brain had shut off. As he pulled the trigger for the umpteenth time that day, a cold, distant voice nagged at him from the back of his mind. 'This is getting a little too easy for you, don't you think? You went into shock the first time you killed a sentient being, and the voices from the second time still haunt your dreams, but what about the last few you killed today? Can you even remember their faces? Do you even know how many lives you've ended this time? How many are enough? Will there ever be an end? Or will one battle bleed into another until you've become a monster worse than A'ngles? How many friend and enemy lives are you willing to spend for your ideals?' Jack shook his head. He didn't have time for self-doubt now. Getting lost in those thoughts is how he'd get himself and everyone depending on him killed. But of course, the doubts were more challenging to silence than that, and as Grim turned and dove back into the safety of friendly lines, the unsettling feeling refused to dissipate.

Finally finding a moment to catch his breath, Jack looked down at Ger'ron, who showed signs of exhaustion, as were all the guards. Only Angela seemed unaffected by the never-ending maelstrom, though he realized that in and of itself was a lie since her battery could only last so long. So, doing some math and not liking the result, he spoke with the older guard. "How much longer do you think we can hold out?"

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The old guard seemed to feel the strain for a moment as he shook his head. "If it were my guess, I'd say we were already past our limit," He seemed to catch himself and smiled as he nodded toward Grim. "but between that pup of yours and Lady Angela, we seem to be holding our own."

As his sister dove back into the fight despite Jack's concern moments ago, Jack couldn't help but wonder aloud. "Well, they've got to be about to break and surrender. This isn't a fight. It's a slaughter. How much longer can they hold out?"

Ger'ron seemed lost in thought as he watched Angela tear through another formation before turning to Jack and somehow finding the strength to smile. "Well, the lads seem to keep finding the will to fight. So we'll keep it up as long as we must. But you should be aware that a cornered argu'n will often fight to the death. So you might have to give them a way out before they consider surrendering!"

Then the old guard turned to rejoin the fight leaving Jack alone with his thoughts once more. How were they supposed to give the warriors a way out? Just open up a flank and let them walk through? But what was supposed to stop them from picking up from where they'd left off, harassing the caravan again? Speaking of, who was in charge? He couldn't see B'arthon or any of the other villagers around. Was this just one random scouting group that'd sound them, or was this part of a larger army?

Turning to rejoin the fight, Jack noticed Fea'en and a detachment of workers had moved down from the hilltop to deal with a small formation of enemies attempting to flank Jack's position. She was dealing with them readily enough but was now in danger of being flanked herself. Looking around, it seemed everyone was otherwise engaged. The only one free to deal with the problem was Jack.

Wheeling Grim around, Jack left his concerns behind as he and the wolgen dove back into the fray. But rather than simply holding the enemy at bay, he pushed on, trying to get to Fea'en and the workers before it was too late.

-

Ger'ron could see Jack charging to Fea'en's rescue, but even with the power of the wolgen, they'd quickly be overwhelmed in an extended position like that. There was no way he could get to her side quickly enough to save her, but with Jack buying valuable time, he and the guards might be able to push the front line out to meet them and secure their flank. Or course, they'd have to switch from the passive defense they'd been executing to a more aggressive offense to make that happen.

Ger'ron grabbed Lack'nul by the shoulder, who pulled back from the combat, trusting the others to fill in his gap. The older guard shouted over the sounds of battle to be heard. "We'll have to push the line forward to secure Fea'en's flank! On my signal, we rush both lines forward in alternating waves. We need to overwhelm them with a coordinated offense and not give them the chance to regroup until we've taken the ground we need!"

Lack'nul nodded his understanding and started moving up the line, repeating the order. Meanwhile, Ger'ron stared out over the distance they'd need to cover. Thirty yards more or less if he as any judge. Such a short distance normally, but in a battle like this...

They'd been fighting in two lines so one group could recover while the other fought, rotating in and out as needed, but now the second line readied their spears. Meanwhile, Ger'ron could see Jack crash into the group Fea'en had been attacking. The force of the charge was more than enough to send the crumbling formation into disarray. But the other force was approaching from their right, and it would take time to turn to meet them.

Seeing his own battle line in position, Ger'ron shouted a straightforward command. "Second line, CHARGE!" The second line of guards charged through the gaps left by the first, spearing any argu'n unfortunate enough to be in their way. They made it about five yards before their charge met solid resistance.

Ger'ron himself speared one of the warriors who'd been unfortunate enough to get in his way but now was working to free his spear as another warrior approached. That was when he heard a shouted command from behind. "First line, CHARGE!"

Seconds later, Jar'maal brushed passed Ger'ron flanked by the rest of the first line, charging headlong into the warrior who'd been heading for the old guard and running him down before continuing forward about five more yards before getting tied down into their own combat. Ger'ron finished retrieving his spear and shouted to his line once again. "Second line, CHARGE!"

This time it was Ger'ron's turn to rush past the younger guard, spearing anyone unfortunate enough to get in his way. The older guard was feeling the exhaustion of the continuous fighting after what was already a drawn-out battle, but he forced himself to push on. Fea'en, the workers, and Jack were depending on him.

-

Sare'en sat with the kovaack, petting Kunshee and shushing a whining Kunes. The sounds of battle were audible from their position, and Sare'en felt as worried as the poor wolgen pup seemed to be. "Shhh, quiet girl. We just gotta trust in our friends. Jack's very clever, and S'haar is very strong. I'm sure they'll take good care of everyone. We just have to wait here for now."

The wolgen calmed down somewhat but still seemed troubled. Off to the side, Dar'shal watched her work with the pup with interest. Then, after a moment, he spoke up. "How do you do that?"

Sare'en lool up in surprise. "I'm sorry... Do what?"

Dar'shal shook his head and pointed toward the two wolgen. "How do you speak to the wolgen like that. It's almost like they understand you. In our tribe, we train them with food and punishment as needed, but with you, it seems more like you're the leader of their pack rather than their master. How do you do that?"

Sare'en shrugged. "Honestly, I never really thought about it. I guess... Well, that is to say, I've never been very... good with other argu'n, but animals are something else. They're simpler, more open, and honest, but they're also more observant and have longer memories than people realize. So while I do speak with them, it's really my body language that's important to them, at least at first. After a while, they learn to associate certain words or tones of voice with specific ideas, but you've got to keep it simple, at least at first."

Dar'shal nodded as he listened. He was standing utterly still in the way he did when he was thinking, which is to say, he stood that way most of the time. But, for a moment, he looked as if he was about to say something else when another voice cut into their conversation. "That's quite the talent you have, child. I can see why they'd keep you safe from the battle."

From out of a shadow came one of the most frightening males Sare'en had ever met. Standing far too close for comfort stood the hunting chief of her old village, Dek'thul. He grinned in a way that was probably meant to be friendly before speaking. "Now, you wouldn't have any idea where my son might have gotten to, would you?"

Sare'en drew Kunes and Kunshee behind herself while stuttering hesitantly for several moments before a fourth voice joined in the conversation. "You're slipping, old man. You're getting predictable!" Out from another shadow slipped Lon'thul, bow half drawn and aimed squarely at his father's chest as he continued speaking. "I mean, catching you out once like this is one thing, but twice? I thought the hunter was supposed to learn from his failed hunts?"

Dek'thul grinned at his son. "Oh, things aren't going to go the same as last time. You'll want to hear me out first."

A third argu'n stepped out of a shadow into what was quickly going from a relatively empty clearing into a very full one as Chal'ac walked up behind Dek'thul and placed a dagger to his throat. "Speak quickly, 'old man,' before I end your ability to speak at all."

Lon'thul let out the slightest bit of the tension in his bow but kept it pointed squarely at his father's chest as the older hunter grinned. "I see you've been making friends, son. That's good. You're going to need them soon!"