Chapter 7- The battle
It was early morning deep within the forbidden forest. Mists still hung close to the ground, giving the appearance of a blanket of snow. It would soon disappear in the presence of the mid-summers sun. Oddly there was very little noise in the forest today. Very few birds sang a welcome to the morning sun. No crickets chirped in the thickets. The only movement at all came from a seething mass of acromantulas that busied themselves alongside a largish pond. Without ceremony they swarmed over each other forming a seething mass of activity. As each one was the size of a dog, the pile was quite large indeed. They only moved cautiously when one would find itself stepping away from the rest and then it would gingerly make its way across what can only be described as a fine mesh that lay upon the rocky beach on one side of the pond. Moving with all the grace and speed of a professional ballerina, one acromantula began to affix large rocks to one side of the mesh with a gooey secretion from its abdomen. Soon the mass broke into two groups and positioned themselves in equal numbers on either side of the mesh. One individual from each group then separated itself from the rest of their respective groups and moved towards the center of the mesh. These two stopped once they had reached equidistant points from each other and the groups they had just left. Freezing for some inexplicable reason the acromantulas almost appeared to be grotesque statues.
Finally a signal only detectable by themselves spurred every one of them into synchronous motion, resulting in a most amazing effect. The acromantulas on the sides started pulling on the edges of the mesh simultaneously stretching it while dragging it into the lake. The two in the middle zigzagged in concert ensuring that the rocks slid evenly forward and the mesh didn't catch on anything. As soon as the mesh was pulled into the water the side with the rocks quickly sank, leaving the rest floating on the surface. This was most likely due to small bubbles of the secretion that acted like floats and was secured to the top most line. Pulling the mesh evenly across the pond, the two groups then evenly split again with the third and fourth groups moving tangentially to the first two. As the new groups climbed up the banks opposent to each other, the mesh acted like a huge purse with its string now being pulled, very effectively capturing anything within it.
Just as the acromantulas were pulling at their absolute hardest to bring a bounty of fish, the screech of a bird could be heard. Almost immediately afterward the sound of the laboring acromantulas was supplanted by that of a good 15 bows firing from the woods. The rain of arrows struck at will, killing a couple immediately, wounding a number of others, but leaving the bulk of them unharmed. The centaurs now leaped from their hiding places and let loose another torrent of arrows. The acromantulas released the mesh and formed into tight little masses, with their front legs waving murderously in front of them and baring long, venomous fangs. The centaurs were aggressively attempting to keep the small groups separate and therefore vulnerable. Should they link up, the acromantulas could then protect their backside and send individuals out to attack the centaur archers.
Magorian barked orders to his group of warriors. Keeping six centaurs focused on pelting the groups with arrows, while Magorian, leading half dozen others, galloped furiously between the two groups stabbing at the mass of writhing legs with their spears. The centaurs' tactics successfully stalled the acromantulas from regrouping and was actually whittling down their numbers. Across the lake Bane's battleherd was having similar success. Wanting to press their advantage, Bane called out, "Move in! Move in and destroy them all!"
Hearing this Magorian attempted to shout across the lake, "No! Keep your distance!" But it was too late; Bane's Battleheard shifted from a harrying tactic and attacked the groups outright. Now with their focus exclusively on the masses, large numbers of acromantulas decended from the surrounding trees and leapt upon the unprotected archers. Screaming in pain, one centaur went down and was quickly silenced by the swarm of acromantulas upon him. Fortunately, the others had not suffered the same fate, but were forced to dashing about firing arrows behind them hoping to strike their pursuers. The chain reaction was instantaneous with the two groups under Bane's assault forming together and placing their backs to the pond. This change in the battle extended across the lake as Magorian wheeled about and charged with two of his battleherd those lone acromantulas decending from the trees. The distraction was enough to allow two groups to become one at the water's edge. It was obvious Magorian that the tide of the battle had turned. It was only a matter of time before the remaining two groups formed into a single mass, allowing them to outflank the centaurs, maybe even cutting them off.
"Gather round, protect the archers!", Magorian ordered his battleherd. Now the battle was in full pitch. Magorians centaurs valiantly stabbed with their spears and road down any acromantula that was separated from the rest. He was unable to spare the moments glance to see how Bane fared, instead focusing all his efforts in protecting his own battleherd. Inexorably the acromantulas crabbed along the edge of the lake until the centaurs could no longer safely move between them. Once this happened the acromantulas extended their lines forming a deadly barrier that nullified the centaurs speed. While the centaurs tried forming together the tactic was unsuccessful because they were no longer able to opportunistically shoot arrows into unprotected sides, abdomens, and where the thorax is soft right behind the eyes. Now the archers faced the wall of waving arms that batted away many of the arrows mid-flight. The archers also faced the problem that they had to fire through ranks of their own centaur protectors.
Wordlessly, the acromantulas moved forward as a group with the ones on the extreme edges moving faster creating a huge pincer closing in on the small contingent of centaurs. Instead of retreating Magorian called the remaining centaurs in to a tight knot, they stuck out there spears, now resembling a multi-legged porcupine. This only encouraged the acromantulas to charge even faster.
It was then the water behind them erupted with a dozen barbed hooks and trailing ropes that flew towards the oblivious swarm. Upon striking the ropes pulled taunt, sinking the hooks into their outer shell, and almost a dozen acromantulas found themselves flinging backwards into the pond whose surface boiled with unseen activity. As soon as one of the dog sized spiders struck the water clawed hands pulled them under and another hook jetted out of the water towards to spread out swarm. Not waiting a moment longer Magorian signaled his group to break apart thereby revealing the massive misshapen face and body of Grawp. Springing forward, Grawp swung his immense arms at the scattering acromantulas. The effect was facilitated by the fact that Grawp had affixed what appeared to be a tree stump to the remaining portion of his left arm, which was amputated halfway between his elbow and where is wrist used to be. Much slower than individuals within the disintegrating swarm, Grawp struck those isolated members that were so confused that they could not avoid his crashing blows.
The centaurs however were perfectly within their element. Ridding down the fleeing acromantulas they mercilessly killed them and moved on to the next hoping to get as many as possible before they disappeared in to the forest. By now, none were left along side of the pond and the battle under the surface was drawing to a close. Surveying the battlefield, Magorian counted three centaurs that had been killed outright and a goodly number more had been injured. At first guess, he estimated that thirty or forty acromantulas had been killed, with another twenty in the forest. Sighing deeply, he raised his head and blew into a horn that had hung at his side. This would call the entire battleherd back together so he could better determine the actual losses that day.
As Bane approached Magorian, he could see the undisguised shame on his lord's face. Bane had broken with the plan and almost caused their victory to have become a defeat. Looking away Magorian gravely confided in Bane as he drew near, "Too many losses to be considered a success."
"Yes Lord Magorian, " Bane said while slightly bowing his head. "They're getting more cunning also. Ambushing the ambusher, I had never imagined the filthy creatures were capable of it."
"Now they will also know that Grawp has joined us and that element of surprise will be lost." Magorian reflected.
Turning from Bane and surveying his troops his eyes fell upon one in particular, very different from the rest. She was roughly the same size as the other centaurs, but she had a distinct green tinge to her hair and skin, with large bulbous eyes and pointed ears. Also, where her torso met her equine half, large fish scales stretched across the transition.
Approaching her Magorian said imperiously, "Please express our gratitude to Merchieftainess Murcus for her support against our enemies."
"They are our enemies also, Lord Magorian." Farba said in her shreiky voice. "The acromantulas have begun to sweep the ponds in this area clean of fish and anything else that gets caught in their nets, leaving nothing for us to eat."
"As it is with us. They have hunted the forest clear of every bird, deer, or lizard that used to live here." Magorian observed. "Out of curiousity, how did the merwarriors get into the pond anyway? We are many miles from the great lake or the ocean."
"Most of these ponds are connected by a network of ancient underwater caves." Farba responded.
"Well it was a very prudent decision to wait until they turned their backs to us. Again convey my regards to Merchieftainess Murcus. We leave in 15 minutes" He added abruptly.
Stepping into the shallows at one side of the pond, Farba called out and waited in the cold water. Oddly she had never known cold until entering this bizarre overwater world, where sound traveled funny and everyone walked on the ground.
Soon she noticed the characteristic ripples of someone approaching from beneath the surface of the water. Sticking his head just above the surface, the Lord Centaur's son, Agorianam, initiated the ancient greeting of the emissaries.
"I call to my other as my other calls to me," Chanted Agorianam
"We are bound to meet while the truce still holds," answered Farba.
"Should my people fail, then my life is forfeit," continued Agorianam.
"My life is forfeit, should my people fail," said Farba
"The truce still holds and we are bound to meet," said Agorianam
"My other calls to me and I call to my other." said Farba.
Bowing their heads ceremoniously to each other they concluded the ritual.
"Lord Magorian, wishes to express his gratitude to Merchieftainess Murcus." Said Farba formally. It pained her that there was no message of personal greeting to Agorianam.
"And Merchieftainess Murcus also conveys her appreciation to Lord Magorian for his valiant efforts on this day." Said Agorianam. "Merchieftainess Murcus also wanted me to convey the great honor she feels of your sacrifice."
Her voice becoming more strained that normal, Farba asked "Is there any more that needs that Merchieftainess Murcus wishes to convey?"
"Yes, please tell Lord Magorian that while this pond was spared today, another just twenty minutes away from here was not. They are expanding their territory." Responded Agorianam.
"I will pass this on at the War Ring tonight." Said Farba.
Nodding to each other one last time they separated without another word.
During the ritual, the centaurs had erected a funeral pyre for their fallen comrades in arms. Each said goodbye and wished them speed into the next life as they marched past. The last one set the pyre afire and nobody looked back.
The walk to the Centaur camp was long, especially after such a hard battle earlier that day. Farba missed currents that could sweep you up and carry you for miles. A particularly skilled Mer could catch cross currents and small eddys in order to travel whatever direction they wanted with almost no effort at all. That was another aspect of living overwater she hated, no currents.
Entering the camp, she looked at the faces of the centaur she passed. They all had a defeated look about them that forced their eyes to watch the ground a bit more than expressly needed. She had hoped theirvictory today would had raised the camp's spirits. Realizing that whatever gains they had made today, they probably lost more somewhere else. Soon she was watching the ground a bit more that was needed to make her way to the War Ring.
It was a large circle that was cleared from the woods around them. Within it sat, stood, or lay other emissaries. Often referred to as the Honor Bound, the nature of the pact between beings was simple. Each party would exchange a member of the ruling class, normally a first son or daughter. That way if either failed to act honorably in battle, that groups emissary would be killed and the pact broken. There were stories of rare occasions where the pact lasted so long that the emissaries were unable to return to their normal form. Also, each emissary had to consume a majical herb every day that allowed them to survive in almost the form of the party with whom the pact was made. Should they fail, the pact would be broken and the other emissary would be killed.
The number of Honor Bounds sitting around the War Ring was a good indication of how serious the war with the acromantulas was. Inititally the Centaurs tried to eradicate the acromantuals on their own. Considering them mindless beasts, the Centaurs rode up to the web dome that formed the heart of the acromantula empire and tried to slay them all. They were quickly routed. Disturbingly the acromantula's discovered quite the taste for Centaur flesh and blood. Since then the Centaurs have been beaten back from their former home deep within the forbidden forest to the very edges. They now sat barely fifty bowshots away from the edge of the forest and would have to move closer any day.
There was never a stranger group of creatures ever to be found. At the top of the circle sat Lord Magorian to his right and by order of when the pact was signed was Farber. Next was a Centaur/Thestral named Hythsss, whose reptilian skin made him appear to be a normal centaur who was wearing special armor. After him was a Centaur/Unicorn who refused to use a name, but was magnificent to behold. His muscled torso was covered by the barest of coats of fine white hair and sticking from his forhead was a golden horn almost ten inches long. There was room for several other mixed peoples, but the last spaces were taken instead by a single individual, Grawp.
"We have formed this council to better decide the fate of us all," Magorian said "for years the Centaurs have followed the signs of the stars and they have led us well. Now there is an enemy that does not appear in the heavens at all. It is if nature so abhors their existance that it refuses to acknowledge. We are blind and no not where to go."
Fulfilling her obligation, Farba informed the council that another pond was lost not far from the one they had saved. At least for today.
"GRAWP WANT HAGGER. HAGGER HELP." Voiced Grawp.
Shaking his head, Magorian said, "Wizards never help. Where we they when the acromantulas set upon you by the hundreds? Where were they when you were poisoned? Where they there we had to sever your arm to save you life? No. We are in this alone."
In the quietest voice Grawp could manage, which was still quite loud, "Grawp Miss Hagger, But Mag Save Me. What To Do Now?"
The quietness spread around the circle as each emissary considered that question.
The Centaur/Thestral, Hythss, spoke in an odd disconnected way of one who spent to much time being invisible, "No daysss, No nightttt. All brighttt. Need allysss."
"Unfortunately we are quickly running out of them, Trolls haven't inhabited these woods for many decades and that would only leave the owls as the last intelligent beings." Said Magorian.
"Could we request an emissary, they would be useful for telling us where the enemy is and what they are doing?" asked the Centaur/Unicorn.
"I have tried and so far have not received a response." Said Magorian, but ruefully thought to himself, "Not that I have any family left to exchange an emissary."
"Then do we accept their relentless expansion? Should we leave the forest to them? But where can we go, we are surrounded by muggles on three sides and Wizards on the last." Said the Centaur/Unicorn exasperatedly.
Farba was struck by a thought, "While we can't stop them from expanding, maybe we can direct their expansion."
"Lord Magorian, what if we pulled everyone back from the Western pass?" asked Farba.
"Without our being there, the monsters would expand and eat everything in their paths, everything that is until they reached Hog…" said Magorian before stopping himself short.
"Yes, that is just what I was thinking." Said Farba to the mutual agreement of everyone there.