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Chapter 2 - Ride of the Red Wolves

Kara frowns at this. Men do not generally flee once spotted in combat, and to have a greater number against one means their escape was worth more than the death of Goewyn. After a few moments Kara would ask "Did they see you were alone? There is no honor in running from a fight, but also, if your only job was to report on movement, you do not need just 4. You need less. Magan, are there any nearby wars going on? Would not be smart to lead them into an active battlefield we have no part in."
"That is why I take those who can track and stay hidden. We can cover more ground faster and see what is going on without being seen, but still have the numbers to end any conflict quickly and quietly."
Kara frowns, unsure that would be wise, but Magan knew the English fighting better than she did, so she dropped the subject for now. She just knew how easy they were to defeat, and so if he thought it best to scout out she would not stop him. Just in case however, she would check among the freed people and see if any of them knew of a nearby conflict, just incase the group had overlooked something. Goewyn story, if it was true, just made no sense to her. Why run if it was two on 1? Something is off.
Claw sat close at Guthric's hip while Fang flopped down behind during Goewyn's recounting. The Pict removed his wolf fang necklace and rubbed the cleaned bones in his fingers. Within minutes, he was translating the woman's report in high-pitched whines and quiet, low rumbles. "We hunt again. More men and horses. Two of them." "How do we catch horses?" "Quick, but careful." "That's not what I mean." "She will show us where they ran. There are likely more waiting for us." "More than two?" "Yes, the new ones have enemies; ones that want them broken again." "But they're nice! Lots of scratches, I think some say nice things." "A few gave us food, too." "Humans are strange. Some are good, some are bad. Many are both." "You are one, too. Are you bad?" "I try to be good, but some people think I'm bad. It's hard to know sometimes." "I don't get it. Let's just find the men and horses."
Magan nods to Gloyn and follows her towards the tracks of the men who rode off. Carefully eyeing the other hills to make sure they were not leaving the caravan vulnerable to others watching.
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Gann gave Glöyn's description a moment of consideration then nods, his expression blank. He reflects on it on his way back to the outriders to make sure they know the carriage continues on its route and exchanges few casual words with few of the slaves. He glances over his shoulder at Magan and the others depart to track a potential treat. 
Goewyn, Guthric and Magan spend most of the afternoon hustling over the rough terrain of the hills, following the tracks of the riders north up the length of the cotswolds. The trail runs parallel to the track taken by the wagons, which is now moving more slowly without Magan's guidance. A few hours later, the horses come into view in the distance. The group of riders appears to have stopped for a break.
While the others ran off, Kara approaches Gann, asking in her broken mastery of the native tongue "If have advantage in fight, why run? Is.. Is honor not part of you people? Freya not teach that?"  She was trying to figure out why the men were just watching, even after being harassed by a inferior force that they could have easily defeated. With all the bandits roaming, to her it felt as if Goewyn had went missing, she would have simply been counted as a death to bandits not an enemy.
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Gann has been watching the vicinity with narrowed eyes when Kara approaches. He regards her question with a slight thinking frown and the crevice of his weathered forehead forms deeper. "Likely they do not engage because they are not looking for a fight. If Glöyn were to not return, our group would be at full alert and by sheer numbers, we would be impenetrable. They want us to think we got away easy. Ei does pray Magan and the others are not drawn into a trap." He turns to look at Kara, but his eyes focus on the hills on the other side, always on the look. "It might just be a local scout party that stumbled upon us." Or assassins. He doesn't grant a voice to his wild presumptions and dismisses them swiftly.
Drawing his bow, Magan stealthily spirals up the mountain through the undergrowth. Waiting until he has a clear shot to spring the trap. 
Guthric clung to the brush and concealment of the road, but Fang and Claw had different ideas of "stealth". Rather than slinking quietly and unseen, they walked openly on the road. Voices from atop the hill quickly gave away that the hounds were spotted and suspected, and it left the Pict in a difficult position. Rather than forsaking his loyal pack, he stepped into the open, shield and sword drawn but held low. "There you are. I told you two not to go wandering off! We could've had two meals and a stock of pelts by now." When the two returned to Guthric's side, he crouched low and pulled them close. "Listen carefully. When they come, let them come close before we attack. If they have horses, scare those to throw down the riders. Magan and Glöyn are close and eill attack with us."
Taking the time to set up the ambush, Magan sees Gloyn get into place and aim her bow at one of the men. Aiming for the sane man over the crest of the hill Magan looses an arrow, landing it deep in the man's armour and puncturing the protection beneath, though it fies not seem to make much impact. Knowing that things could be about to get messy, Magan stashes his bow back over his shoulder and draws his shield. 
Goewyn takes position and once she feels comfortable she quickly takes aim and fires off two arrows as quickly as she can! Unfortunately the man seems to be wearing heavy enough armor that the arrow heads sink into the thick protection and the man grunts with the impact, but no mortal wound seems to appear... She quickly moves and takes cover behind the large hillside and begins to draw back her bow once more....
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Since she was freed from the slaves by the strange group who called themselves "Red Wolves" Eadwing has been quiet, keeping both eyes and both ears open and sharp. At first she was trying to determinate if they had just changed one group of slavers for another, but when some of them came and gave her what scarps of clothes, armor and even a weapon to defend herself, she started to relax. Past months had been rough on her, and her usually cheerful demeneaor had been replaced by a more cautious one, She had still many things to deal with for her time being imprisoned, but she was starting to feel more comfortable with that so called Red Wolves.  When she sees that they break off and goes scouting, and hears something about some men following them on horse, she felt a goosegump on her stomach. She would had go with the scouts rather to be there sitting idle, but when she noticed it it was too late. to go after them.  Some of them had stayed, the tacitrun one, as she called him, and the one named Kara. It was, in fact, hearing her speaking that she learnt of the pursuers. After a few moments of doubt she decided to go and talk to her.  "Excuse me.. Kara, right? I am Eadwing Mcleud and I couldn't help but hear that you think there are some men following us? " she said lowering her voice so the rest can't hear her. " Well, alas it could be a good practice for all the training you have been doing and some of them can use a good old fashioned revenge, I do not think that it is a good idea to have a fight here. Do you know how many of them were following us? "  The worry on her voice was evident, but the look in her green eyes showed confidence and resolution. 
The men on the hilltop leap into action, three of them rushing down each side meet their attackers. One rapidly closes, swinging wildly with two hand axes at Magan, who has given away his position. The first strike is wide, but the second makes contact, sending Magan staggering back. The blow is rapidly followed by a third axe thrown from further up the hill. It catches Magan off balance, cutting through his thick leather jacket and lodging itself in his shoulder. Magan takes 17 slashing damage to vigour and 2 slashing damage to wounds, reduced to 9 and 2 by DR -> 19/28 Vigour, 14/16 Wounds, 2 Bleed. On the far side of the hill the men search in vain for Goewyn, before charging down towards Guthric. One man at the top takes the Pict in his sights and unleashes an arrow with deadly accuracy. Guthric takes 19 piercing damage to vigour and 2 piercing damage to wounds, reduced to 15 and 2 by DR -> 20/35, 16/18 Wounds, 2 Bleed + 2 Adrenaline Surge! Magan's action.
Magan realises he is out matched here, carefully using his shield to cover his movement, he removes himself from arms reach of the combat, using his experience of travelling the wilds to pick a quick path down the hill that most men would not be able to follow. 
Goewyn draws another arrow from her hip and moves down just beyond the barrier wall blocking her sight, spots a target with his back to her facing in the direction Guthric had planned to approach. She spots him reaching for an arrow as he sights him down and releases her arrow! Once again, the man's armor seems to keep the arrow head from penetrating into his organs, but he does yelp from the impact. Before he can turn to find her, she is already slipping back into a nook in the wall and blending into the natural terrain...
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Guthric spits a heavy grunt as the arrow hits home. His hounds hesitate for a minute before he chokes out a bestial growl, "Stay behind me! Keep low."  One saving grace of the terrain was a natural tiered pattern with rocky outcroppings formed along the ascent. Midway to one such spot, Guthric sucks behind a large bush with his shield raised. Fang and Claw huddle around him as best as they can for cover.
The men continue to pursue Magan and Guthric down the hill, even hindered as they are by the rough terrain. The archer near the top of the hill looks about warily, searching for the source of the mysterious arrows.
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Gann had slowed to match with the last of the carriages, always on the lookout for any sign of movement on both the hillside or the calm treelines. When he notices a woman leaning on the side of a carriage to speak by Kara's side, he looks carefully into her expression and though no words reach him he can read the tension and the wait for answers. It couldn't have been her only. Many others, especially those battle-trained, had noticed Magan's departure for long and were silently keeping questions to themselves. He had no answers for any of them. He pulls the reigns to pick the pace and get closer to them. For a God-chosen, Kara shared the wisdom of the Aesir and those among the spirits that served them, and she would not spread the word that could catch like wildfire. His overgrown beard and creased, chiseled face gave him a look no different than those of northern slaves, but riding on horseback not carriage spoke of some status. 
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Kara listens to Eadwyn query and after a few thoughtful moments from her perch before she answered. The tall Norse woman was calm as she spoke, saying "There is the idea of it. Magan is riding out to make sure of it, but I am unsure." Her broken Saxon made it a bit hard to understand, but it seemed she was not overly worried about it, outside of a normal bandit attack. She then speaks again "But be welcome among us. You are not one of the slower ones. Good with arm. It may come in hand if they attack, but Gann, tall scarred man, he seems to think they had tried to surprise us and we got them first. If so, we have advantage. There was only six we saw, but clue was that was all there was. Six versus our number is not odds you fight. Even Freya teaches do not make battle were you only lose."
Magan sends up a prayer to the gods and feels the divine blessing close his wounds. His purpose was clearly not yet fulfilled but the pain in his side was a clear reminder that this was not his purpose. I do this only that I may get the army needed to cleanse these lands.  He hurries further down the hill towards Guthric, pressing himself close to the cliff edge to keep himself covered from the pursuing enemies.
Gann nods to confirm Kara's words. "Magan is a wise leader. There will be no fight if one can be avoided." He watches Eadwing to make sure she does not spread doubt in this. "We must continue on our route, they will be with us soon."
Goewyn slips out of her hiding spot and fires yet another arrow at the enemy archer, but yet again the arrow simply catches in the man's arrow as he jerks with the impact. Before she can move away to find another spot, the archer sees her and immediately looses an arrow of his own that slams hard into Goewyn's torso. She gasps in pain from the unexpected impact and has a brief flashback to the moment her mother died, pierced through the back by several arrows. One last quick glimpse at this warrior and Goewyn slips her bow across her shoulder/torso and begins to scramble up the nearby hill up towards the nearby horses! Once atop the hill she quickly mounts the beast and prepares to gather up two more reins... She turns and shouts towards Magan and Guthric. "There are too many, we must retreat!"
It had been too long since such a fight had come to bear. The last skirmish was a tactical slaughter, not a true test of prowess. With the pair quickly approaching, Guthric new his true hope would be to catch them as unaware as possible. They knew the Pict as a threat, but what about Fang and Claw? They know roughly where he was, but do they know which bush to surround and attack together? For the moment, he knelt low and squeezed hard on his bleeding wound to stem the bleeding. The gathering wetness, however, gave him no immediate hope.  "Go now! The Great Wolf has come!" A hoarse barking rumbles across the base of the hill, and is answered by a pair of nearby barks in kind.
The fight is clearly taking its toll on Goewyn's foe as he hurries back up the hill to cut her off, breathing hard and fast. Another arrow is loosed at the girl and she barely manages to avoid serious harm as it gouges a deep tear in the leather of her armour. Goewyn takes 12 piercing damage, reduced to 10 by DR -> 12/27 Vigour. The remaining men charge on down the hill towards Guthric and Magan. One draws another throwing axe and hurls it at the Saxon with devastating accuracy, slicing deep into Magan's torso. Magan takes 15 slashing damage to vigour and 2 slashing damage to wounds, reduced to 11 and 2 by DR -> 9/28 Vigour, 14/16 Wounds, 2 Bleed. Magan's action.
Sending up a prayer to Vidarr, Magan runs further from the fight, against his nature. "Wide-ruler, mighty son, lord of vengeance. I have strayed from the path of your fight that I may raise the army to do your bidding. Keep us in this battle that we may turn and deal your vengeance upon these men and march upon the invaders."  His shield covering behind him, he touches the wound in his side feeling it heal, and looks over at Guthric too with religious fervor in his eyes. "Guthric! Time to fight, then to run! Let them see the aspect of the gods within you!"
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Eadwyn listen to Kara and Gann and she nods.  "I hope you are right and there is no fight after all, but sometimes greed overcomes common sense, especially with slavers scum." She looks to them, apparently pondering if she should say anything more.  "Just let me know if I could be of any help. I don't have my instruments any more, but a good song could be as invigorating as a good horn of mead and roasted wild boar." She smiles and winks at Kara. "And I know a couple of things about healing wounds." She sits back at the wagon and starts to hum a happy song. The rhythm is catchy, but she uses no words.
Goewyn gasps as another arrow cuts through the protective leather of her armor, her heart beating rapidly she spurs the horse into action as she rides the beast hard around the edges of the clearing with her spear clutched in one hand! She watches the archer's eyes widen as she barrels towards him in a reckless headlong rush and death in her eyes. The power behind the charge and Goewyn's training of finding the perfect spots to target allows the tip of her spear to penetrate deep into the man's torso! He cries out in pain as he is carried backward from the force of the impact and Goewyn uses the momentum of the horse to rip the spear out again, spilling entrails and gore all over the ground. The man is nearly dead as he hits the ground. Goewyn tries desperately to turn the horse as it races towards the exit of the hilltop along the path, but her lack of training is evident as it continues forward, not heeding her commands. She then tries to leap gracefully from the saddle, but is barely able to maintain her footing as her tumbles slightly. She rushes over to the nearest two horses, grabbing their reins into her hands as she glances around once more for anymore threats...
Gann nods back at Eadwyn, his thoughts consumed elsewhere and his eyes part of the watch. He allows some of that brood to be scattered away by the humming song and it is catchy enough that the carriage and then the nearby one join a soft choir on it, making the dreary of travel less of a chore. 
Kara laughs, not in a mocking manner but in a way that makes it seem she found that statement truly funny. "Better than mead? Nothing is better than that! Perhaps maybe a good man between your legs, but otherwise nothing!" She speaks out in Norse, not to be rude but for her more common speech. She isn't really one for song, but she does her best to try and happily keep a tune.
"I said invigorating not better! " she laughs at her own joke and keeps humming the song but noticing Gann's keeping watch she keeps an eye out too.
The scene is grim for Magan as enemies close in on all sides. However, a howl springs from the south as a massive Pict charges from a bush with a pair of mastiff in tow. Guthric's charge is barely noticed by the man closest to him. A savage cleave eith his seax bears down, but the man only barely manages to raise a blade in defense. The defense is struck down, but it moves Guthric's blade to tear a ragged gash across the man's armour rather than through his chest. With barely a moment to register the primal bloodlust before him, the man ducks and spins quickly to avoid having his limbs ripped apart from Fang and Claw.  Guthric's hair bristles with overwhelming fury, his golden eyes shine in the sun, and his teeth seem less like the flat bones of humans and more akin to fangs of predators.
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The trio of warriors continues to advance down the hill towards Magan, while the pair engaged with Guthric circle the pict eyeing him carefully. The larger of the two bellows a maniacal laugh, stepping around behind Claw. His blade flashes in the sunlight as he brings it around in a wild swing the slashes the poor dog's legs out from under it. Claw crumples to the earth with barely a whimper. Still moving, the man steps around behind Guthric, allowing his companion to strike in concert. Two long blades strike at Fang, boring deep into his flank and leaving him bleeding on the ground. Claw takes 27 points of slashing damage -> 0/5 Vigour, 0/14 Wounds Fang takes 24 points of slashing damage -> 0/5 Vigour, 0/14 Wounds Only a whistle in the air betrays the approach of a spinning axe that grazes Guthric's shoulder. However, it does barely more than knick his jerkin. Guthric takes 6 points of slashing damage, reduced to 2 by DR, reduced to 1 by resistance -> 21/35 Vigour Magan's action.
Continuing to run from the hilltop towards where the horses have been left Magan flings first one axe, then a second, each squarely striking the man but he seems to shrug off the impact.
Goewyn kicks her heels into the flanks of the horse she's mounted upon, making sure to keep a tight grip on the reins of the secondary horse. Once she has them both moving drives the horses hard towards her companions, spotting that Guthric is looking to be in dire straights and noticing Magan fleeing eastward and covered in blood. "Guthric! Flee! I shall catch up to you!" Seeing the sheer numbers rushing to intercept her, Goewyn gets ready to duck and dodge around any potential attacks.
Something snapped within the Pict's mind. He stammered a moment, somewhere between rage and grief, then set his eyes on the thin man before him. His blood ignited and his skin pulled until it felt ready to tear. Guthric's mind felt almost detached from his body as it witnessed the foe close very suddenly and a blade fall against him. The man was a skilled combatant and parried the assault handily, but there could be no mistaking the fear in his eyes. Every fiber of Guthric's being screamed for complete annihilation. Diving down, he pushed against the man's blade, then beyond it until he came crashing into the man's neck. With gaping maw, he took the flesh shaking and ripping. A flood of hot liquid filled Guthric's mouth and spilled forth while a choked gurgling was all he could hear. More were coming, and a pack does not survive by standing alone against rivals. Reeling back, he pushed through the big man breathing heavily behind him. A wild swing was made, but Guthric took the attack in stride and leveled his blade against the man in challenge as he pulled away toward Magan.
Guthric takes 25 points of slashing damage, reduced to 21 by DR, reduced to 10 by resistance -> 18/35. The raging warrior bellows at Guthric, charging after the pict, but the next swing rebounds off of Guthric's shield. Further north, two of the men in pursuit break off to intercept Goewyn, while the third charges forwards with an unexpected burst of speed. A powerful broadaxe strike catches Guthric from behind, sending him stumbling forwards. Guthric takes 25 points of slashing damage, reduced to 21 by DR, reduced to 10 by resistance -> 8/35. Magan's action.
Magan, running down the hill, runs past the fight between Guthric and the two men. He thinks to continue the retreat, but doesn't have it in him. "Forgive me, we need him"  He rounds on the huge man who had shrugged off his previous axes throws. Taking an axe from his back he rushes in, taking advantage of Guthric distraction, he ducks low, hooking the sword aside with his shield he slashes up with the axe, trailing a nasty scar across his face, splattering blood aside and forcing him into an awkward quarter turn. His leg is left training though, and with his shield already raised Magan spies an opportunity. He throws his weight into bringing the shield downwards, striking just above the knee. There is a sickening crunch as the bone gives way, poking through skin, muscle and armour. A grizzly mess of splintered white, seeping blood and pink soft tissue. It twists awkwardly as it gives way beneath his weight, unnaturally turned around beneath the howling dribbling man. 
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Goewyn spots the two men rushing to intercept her head-long rush with the horses and recognizes their readied stances. Already battered and bruised from her battle with the enemy archer she realizes her chances of making it through these two warriors unscathed was not likely. Seeing no other option she turns the horses towards the sheer-faced hill side and digs her heels into the beast's flanks. Goewyn's racing heartbeat matches the thundering hooves of the horse as they all approach the drop and suddenly she realizes the horse was not going to make it... not enough speed! Just as she tries to pull back hard on the reins, she hears a strange voice... a voice she had not heard in many years... 'Fly my little, butterfly... fly...' A shiver runs down her spine as she stands in the reins and urges the beast faster... and for a brief second she hears nothing by the hammering of her heart as the horse's hooves leave the soft ground and soar over the bitterly hardened stone of the hillside. For the heartbeat she pictures herself with colorful orange and black wings upon her shoulders, flitting about through the air and she suddenly lets out a wordless cry of sheer joy! "Woooooooooooooooo!" Still clutching the second set of reins in her fist, the second horse follows suit as both beasts shoot nearly 20' through the air! They all impact hard with a shower of soft earth and without missing a beat, she presses the horse into a harder charge as they skim beneath the boughs of the nearby trees in a blinding rush until... THERE! One of the bastards harrying Guthric within her reach. With the momentum of the jump still behind her strike, Goewyn's spear tears through the man's protective mail, nearly driving him from his feet with the massive impact. The spear head cuts into his shoulder and rips back out, leaving a trail of slick blood pouring out of the man's wound, but causes no further injury. She immediately ducks back away before the man can even conceive of attempting to retaliate as Goewyn begins rounding the second tree. She drives the horses again away from the battle, but close enough that her friends can catch up to her... "I am here! Quickly! Finish them off and we must fly!"
The primal force driving Guthric exploded into burning fury. Fang and Claw's broken forms lay a short distance away, vengeance seeped from him in a nearly palpable aura, and the taste of blood drove him to savage hunger. Easy prey was at his feet, but it was simply waiting to die now. The Great Wolf mourned the loss of Guthric's packmates and demanded reprisal in full. The next man stood opposite, bloodied and weary. Around the Pict, spirits swirled and bayed at the corners of his sight. Time slowed down, and seconds turned to minutes. Finally it happened: A momentary flit in the enemy's eyes, a glance to the side. Exploding forth, Guthric's blade drove forth. Despite his strong armour, the man's protection gave way to the powerful strike, and the blade dug deep. The spirits circling Guthric's vision charged at once, and the lycanthrope followed suit. His elongated fangs bit into the mailed shoulder before him. Metal and hide resisted the primitive assault, but the faint taste of blood still came through. Muffled shouts rose up around and movement flashed ahead. Guthric knew it was time to claim his prey. His powerful arms clenched, but the main resisted handily. However, a kick to the knee nearly sent the man toppling, and Guthric was able to hold him tight and drag him away, jaws still clenched onto mailed shoulder.
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As Guthric drags the heavily-armoured warrior southwards, the man with the broad seax groans behind the Pict, his leg burning with the pain of the snapped bone. He knows that he is beaten and, summoning his last reserves of energy, pushes himself up to whip his blade around at the retreating wolfman. Guthric turns just in time, bringing his own weapon up to take some of the strength out of the desperate strike. His own leather jerkin barely holds against the keen edge and the struggle robs the Pict of all but the very last of his energy. Guthric takes 21 slashing damage, reduced to 15 by deflect, reduced to 11 by DR, reduced to 5 by resistance -> 3/35 Vigour. The heavily armoured warrior grasps the lengthened snout of Guthric's upper jaw in one hand and wrests it from his shoulder with a snarl of exhaustion. Stepping away from the shifter, he thumps his own wound and roars back at the Pict. Back by Magan, the ferocious warrior on the ground seems almost unstoppable as he staggers to his feet with surprising speed, bleeding heavily from numerous wounds. He thrusts his blade at the Saxon in one final surge of effort, driving home past Magan's guard and dealing a shallow wound through the armour. The man collapses to the ground even as his remaining allies come running in from the north. They hurl throwing axes and javelins, but only one finds its target, sinking deep into Magan's back. Magan takes 27 slashing damage, reduced to 19 by DR -> 0/35 Vigour, 11/16 Wounds, 5 Bleed +8 Adrenaline Surge! Magan's action.
Magan yells at himself "Come on! Keep going. This fight is not over." He lifts his chin, running for Gloyn's horse, leaping onto the back of it he throws another axe at the man fighting Guthric, but after the leap to the horse, his aim is off. He feels a moment if discomfort but pushes it from his mind as he finds himself gripping close behind the young girl. "Not too far now, I'll not see them rescue those two."
Goewyn glances back at Magan with a nod as she tosses the reins of the second horse towards Guthric before clicking her heels to the horse’s flank and drawing an opening between Magan’s haggard form at the pursuing enemies. “We must make some distance. You are very hurt. We regroup and take the fight back on them.”  Despite her brave words, Magan can hear the bit of fear in her voice and notices the two arrows shafts still protruding from her armor as they ride back toward their own horses. 
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The snarling, demihuman visage barks in protest at the struggling prey. The armoured man's roar was defiant, but feeble. "Tagann Mac Tíre Mór duit."  Guthric's voice is a rumbling bass, and his victim has barely a hearbeat to ponder the words before steel strikes through his defenses and cuts another gash in the shoulder. Just as before, lupine jaws follow close behind steel, and the man's weakened state was in no condition to resist now. Fangs find exposed flesh between collar and chin, and the man's life ends abruptly in a gout of red. With a jerk of his head, Guthric rips away from his prey, face and chest now thoroughly spattered in gore. Despite his fury, a level of sense was still about him, and he was aware of his allies' flight. It took every ounce of will to pull himself away. Wolves were not shy about retreating from superior force, but the Pict felt a mournful pang of losing his hounds as he ran for a nearby horse and rode away. When he closes ground with Goewyn and Magan, his rage subsides, and his features begin to return to a more human visage. "We have to go back! They came for us, there may be more. They cannot live! Give me a bow, give me a spear, I will hunt them for days to see them fall."
Seeing their assailants riding away into the distance, the two remaining warriors hurry to the sides of their fallen allies and attempt to stop the bleeding.
Magan jumps from Goewyn's horse, pleased to have some seperation between their bodies, and even more pleased to be back with Ealing. He had been through a lot with her and knew how she would respond in any situation and that he could trust her not to bolt. He hands his bow over to Gloyn as he leaves the horse, addressing her and Guthric. "Follow me, stay at a distance and keep them from healing their friends, we must see them dead or see them flee." With a light tug of the reins, he sends Ealing into a canter back towards the men they had just fled from. Reaching deep inside he summons the divine spark within him to the surface once more. All for the greater purpose, I will build you an army, and these men stand in the way of that. His voice booms out with the echoing authority of the god inside him once more. The old wound in his chest burns with the divine purpose and itches with the urgency of a mission unfulfilled. "Look upon me mortal men! My name is Magan Aethling, hand of Vidarr. I am with divine purpose and I command your obedience. Drop your weapons and take a knee, or feel his vengeance upon you! The Aesir and the Vanir work through me, submit to their will or know the futility of barring their path. Join me against the christian invaders or be swept aside that I may continue."
Goewyn takes the hunting bow from Magan as he passes it over to her. She nods warily at his direction to continue the fight, but immediately kicks her heels into the flanks of the horse and begins moving close enough to get the enemy within range of the smaller bow, but still far enough away that they could not reach her easily. She takes a moment to calm her breathing and racing heart as she sights down the bow at the man engaged in attempting to keep his fellow warrior alive. 'You should have fled, fools.' She sends the arrow streaking across the battlefield and while the aim is true, his thick armor prevents it from penetrating deep into the vital organs, however, he recoils from the sudden impact of the projectile!
Guthric spurs his horse past the two men to cut off their retreat up the hill and in the face of Magan's awe-inspiring demonstration they quickly rise and make a break for it, heading east.
Guthric snaps and growls, intermingling his native speech with that if beasts, "Put your weapons down! Your friends are dead, and you will meet them."