Porag watched as Erourk, the commander of the western attack, was slaughtered easily by the vampire. Then four to five more of Porag’s own eastern attack troops were cut down by a flashing and spinning of Erourk’s own sword. He raised a mighty yaulp, turning away from the sidhe he had been attacking. Five, six, ten, fifteen, twenty…all came romping out of their waiting places and swarmed towards the undead blood-drinker. They moved to subdue him, ropes and nets and sleep-poisoned blades tossed his way.

“Kill the female!” Porag shouted in a choked gulp of his language, watching as the short human ran to aid the leech.

He thrust a dagger-clutching hand at the other three, snarling at a few of the Waara creatures that had backed off from attacking the vampire as the goblins surged forward. They screeched at his command and went bounding towards the two bounty hunters and the sidhe. Porag himself followed, waiting for his chance to draw blood from the sidhe.

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Frudoc scrambled his way down the tree, disfigured little hands and feet moving rapidly. Soigo had made the call for his hunting party to attack now, seeing as the goblins were having less luck than they at bringing down the intruders. He plopped himself into a small cluster of flowers and peered out over their leaves, wrinkled face turning green like a chameleon’s skin against the vegetation. Hissing with a snake’s tongue flickering out of his mouth, he waved a hand at the nearby Chiwiel.

“There, my delicious, there is your female,” he grinned with sharp little fangs as she moved up beside him, her long catty whiskers standing straight out as she let her eyes linger on the battle.

“Rip out her guts!” his mate growled anxiously and sped forward, leaping up onto the back of one of the gnomish creatures as it passed by her.

It was enough of a battle cry for Frudoc and he found himself plowing after her. The rest of the Waarafound their own choice targets among the five enemies.

************--------------------------------************

Willem gave a growling cry as two of the smaller goblins leapt upon his back, teeth and claws ripping through his saffron tunic to dig trenches through his skin. He shook one off and swung his rapier at a Waara beast coming at him, only managing to knock it back. His fingers wrapped around an actual waara as it clamped its fangs down on his forearm, tearing it away only to have it bite down on his thumb. Its crooked little face flew up as it tore a chuck of flesh from his hand, blood streaming down its chin. When it opened its eyes, they had mimicked the color of the blood. He whipped the savage little humanoid to the ground, the impact shattering its tiny disfigured spine. A yowling battle cry brought him back to the goblins and the Waara beast that still kept at him.

We have to run! he bellowed into the minds of his companions. There will be three times this number to come and we will not last against what follows them!

His ears listened as a goblin commander shouted for the death of Tamrissa, barely able to get his gaze turned to see what was becoming of the other four. He shoved his elbow into a dark metal chest plate and spun around, throwing off a chittering goblin. A dagger came to his hand and he threw it masterfully, smiling grimly as the point sunk into the back of one of the gobbys attacking Tam. Then, he felt the wash of warm on the back of his calf as a sword plunged in deep.
He pulled away from it, turning to parry a well-trained swing of a short sword. A slobbering, bulbous-nosed goblin commander yaulped shrilly in common tongue at his face.

“Tell your Mother that her children are no more!”

Tamrissa’s blood runs freely to mingle with the gray-blue, black and purple that already covers her from her enemies. She is torn in so many places that she can hardly focus on the movements of her battles, relying very much on her instincts to think her through. Goblins and Waara creatures stab and claw at her, and the Waare themselves throw their small bodies onto her only to chew mercilessly at any wound or bare patch of skin, some even having small little blades to shove and tear like thorns.

“Fei!” her eyes widen as she watches a swarm of the beasts move to attack him.

Her hand hits the ground as she stumbles to reach him. She furrows her brow as Willem calls for them to run. Running is not an option, they are surrounded and outnumbered. Her sword swings recklessly at a new rush of ugliness comes for her, apparantly propelled by the cry of another goblin. Vines spring up to wrap and strangle, failing miserably on most. Some goblin feet are swallowed by soft earth and then frozen into place by hardening soil. Yet, they keep coming and she can’t get near enough to Fei to even swat away a few of his attackers…

----*****----*****----*****----*****----

Narion jogged swiftly through the trees, his shoulder length black hair flaring in the breeze of his speed. A bow was at ready in his hands, the sounds of battle growing louder from ahead of him. Galildor and a few others had stayed back to take care of the remaining goblins, promising to be right behind the rest when all was done.
It seemed to Narion that he was the only of his kind present when he encountered the first view of the miniature war happening in his forest home. He held his breath as he watched, the pile of goblin bodies nothing compared to the amount of them still attacking the five poor travelers.

“Narion! Shoot!” the PineHaven female from earlier hissed out a whisper from not twenty feet away.

He brought his bow up automatically and took his shot immediately. A goblin went down and then another with his follow-up shot…