The Butcher of Gadobhra-Chapter 533: THOU SHALL NOT PASS!
As the two Snarlfangs charged, one was brought to a halt as stone chains erupted from the ground, binding it firmly in place. As it struggled to break the spell cast by Fastian, the Earth Mage, a heavily armored gnomish Battle Stenographer attacked from the rear. Helga grabbed a hind leg firmly before punching hard at a tender spot just below her other hand. The bone cracked on the first hit and shattered on the second. Struggling within the chains, the Snarlfang howled in pain. Helga calmly broke its other leg. Gnomes were not the fastest of runners, especially when encased in thick, stone armor. Since most of the creatures of the world were also much taller, their fighting style included many specialized blows aimed at limiting an opponent's mobility. Normally, a Hamstring Strike didn't break bones, especially not those of a Tier 4 Elite. But when hostile forces threaten a Gold Tier Bank, and worse...a special customer who made large deposits...the awesome power of the Gnomish Banking System could be invoked by the branch manager to empower agents of the bank. Helga's punches were coming in with pile-driver force that rivaled the Butcher's and concentrated into her dainty fists they delivered deadly blows.
Rastian's spell broke, and the monster tried to pivot to attack Helga. She held her ground and gave it a painful punch in the snout, followed by another hit a second later. Like a boxer working a bag, she pummeled the Snarlfang until its eyes were rolling up in its head, and it collapsed. Helga stepped back, breathing hard, just as a lance of molten rock took the Snarlfang in the chest, finishing it off. Helga gave Rastfian a thumbs up and looked to where Ozzy was dealing with the second one.
As his adversary had charged, Ozzy had called for his polearm, his Hogsplitter lying in the dirt at the base of the wall. Like a runaway train, the Snarlfang charged, its frozen brain not seeing the threat of the weapon set to receive its charge. Its own momentum drove it onto the weapon, and Ozzy placed the tip just to the right of the breastbone, his Butchering skills showing him the perfect entry point. Ribs sliced and bent, and the head of his weapon drove two feet into the Snarlfangs body. Then the Butcher raised up his weapon, the Snarlfang speared on the end, and held it in the air. Gravity kept it impaled on the polearm, and the wound became wider. The Butcher grinned evilly as he channeled Smoke and Heat through the end of his weapon. The Snarlfang began to cook from the inside out, howling in pain. Smoke and flames poured from its mouth.
"I wouldn't mind cooking you up this way to see what you tasted like, but I'm on a tight schedule, so back you go." He whipped around in a circle and tossed the Snarlfang a hundred feet away, and back over the wall. It was still alive, but not for long, as the hungry wolves accepted the offering of half-cooked Snarlfang. Wolves died to the creature's fangs and claws, but it was brought down and turned into a tasty treat.
Chainy was having fun baiting wolves and Snarlfangs into swimming the poisonous, infested moat. Chains hung from the walls with huge slabs of meat on their hooks. Like an angler luring in fish, he taunted the wolves until they braved the moat and died to the poison and rippy fish. The wolves that he grabbed had their necks snapped before being tossed to a growing pile inside the walls. The Snarlfangs took more of his attention. The first, he had played with, catching it around the neck like a collar. He dragged the beast back and forth in the moat, letting the rippy fish tear into it and the poison do its work. It thrashed back and forth for a minute before dying.
The second was trouble. It didn't go for the meat; it went for the Smokehouse itself. Leaping the moat, the Snarlfang had managed to climb to the roof, tearing loose boards and gouging the structure itself as it raced to the top, where it found an open hatch. Spying prey below, it leaped at the old man tending the fires. Joe didn't even look up from his work, as dozens of chains grabbed the Snarlfang and wrapped it so securely that it couldn't move. Like a fly trapped by a spider, the Snarlfang found itself hanging from the ceiling as hot smoke filled its lungs.
Joe shook a finger at it. "Playtime is over. Kill the damned things, then we smoke them. Damnation, what are we going to do with ten tons of poisoned meat?"
Chainey made a rude gesture and went back to taunting wolves, but did take the next Snarlfang more seriously. He wasn't happy to have its exterior chewed up. Nor was he happy to have prey stolen from it. He'd managed to get another Snarlfang to leap at him, but a giant, greenish hand emerged from the water and snagged the Snarlfang by a hind leg. The beast found itself pulled deep into the poisonous water where a much more dangerous predator lurked. Jenny Green Teeth was tired of rabbits and porkchops. The Hag was swimming in her true form, unseen by anyone but her victims, as she gorged herself on red meat; her insatiable appetite let loose for the first time in years. The rippy fish knew better than to get near her, but appreciated the small parts of her victims that floated in the water. Players got glimpses of her as she continued to pull wolves under the water. She smiled at them, showing her large, iron teeth.
On the walls, the players were able to handle the few Snarlfangs they had to face, but with difficulty. Most of the beasts leaped to the courtyard seeking prey in the town. But every Snarlfang who stayed on the walls killed a half dozen players, and the guilds on the rear and side walls were filtering in to reinforce the front, replacing the losses. Only a few wolves were running around the sides and rear of the town. The bulk of the packs stubbornly attacked from the front, packing themselves tightly against the walls, and filling the moat with corpses. Master Caldrius had the mages well organized, throwing wave after wave of spells for maximum effect. The White Circle of Sedgewick kept up their chanting, drawing mana from the town to replenish the spellcasters. Only once did they have to deal with a Snarlfang that managed to leap from a wall up to their perch on the gat tower. It was met by a glowing Betty who struck it time and again with her frying pan as the cuckoo clock in the tavern chimed in time with her blows.
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"I told you not to come back here!"
As the beast died of a broken skull, she wavered and collapsed onto a stool provided for her. Granny handed her a cookie. "Here, dearie. This will help with the hangover. Channeling like that is tiring, but I put extra molasses in my spice cookie recipe, and a double dose of ginger, turmeric, and cloves for the pain. You'll be ready to hit another one pretty soon."
Sedgewick was holding out, but the wolves were gaining ground. The poisonous vines and moat had killed so many that the moat was clogged and bodies were piled ten feet high against the walls, building a ramp that the wargs leaped from, attempting to get at the defenders. The vines were choked and torn down from the walls by the weight of their victims. Suzette was standing on the roof of her tavern, the center of her power in the town. She pushed her vines to regrow and drew poisonous waters from her fae realm until the nearest lake went dry, and only a trickle came out of the cave mouth. The Fairly Lights throughout the town glowed brightly, hurting the eyes of the Snarlfangs and confusing them. They were finding no easy prey within the town. Every building was a small fortress, and some were dangerous. Two Snarlfang carcasses near the bank were still smoking from the lightning bolts summoned by the clock tower. Banker Coppertwist stood on the third-floor balcony, his pocket watch firmly in hand as he kept an anxious eye on his wife. He would support her, but not interfere. She'd trained long and hard for battles just like this. He cheered her on as she put a painful punch into a beast's kidneys, stunning it and allowing the Butcher to snap its neck.
In the tightly packed mass of burning wolves, the Snarlfangs roared their displeasure and fought against the Beastmaster controlling them. An iron will was holding them back and only allowing one or two at a time to assault the town, feeding them into the meat grinder of Sedgewick. In a camouflaged bunker on a hill, the last two Beastmasters came face to face with Fearless Leader, to their great horror. They didn't suffer long as Squirmie bit off their heads and chewed up their brains.
<These were the last two. I'm running out of Brain Juice. It's getting harder to control the big ones! I can't last much longer, Rolly!>
"You've done great. We bought them time." Rolly lent her what strength he could, but a minute later, Squirmie fainted, and he caught her. He tucked her into his pet carrier on his chest and began running toward the side of the town. "Sleep good, little bug. I'll give Ozzy a hand with the rest of them."
At that moment, the Butcher was definitely wishing he had more help. Fastian was almost out of mana, half of the workers fighting in the town had been replaced by headstones, and Helga was still fighting, but running on fumes. That was when six Snarlfangs came over a section of the wall together, wiping out the remaining Thunderpunks manning that section. The beasts roared and hunted for prey, two of them looking at the mages above them on the gate tower.
Ozzy grinned and yelled out to them. "Aren't you a bunch of pretty, pink poodles. I'd keep you for lapdogs, but you aren't smart enough to use a litter box. All you're good for is sniffing butts and barking at squirrels. Bad puppies!"
Whether it was his words or the tone, the half-dozen Snarlfangs all focused on the Butcher. They leaped from the walls and raced towards him. Ozzy was down to a quarter of his health and only a third of his stamina. Each beast he'd fought had whittled him down. On either side of him, Rastfian and Helga stepped forward. And then, from somewhere, a blue-clad wizard stepped forth, putting himself between them and the oncoming horde of predators.
Delbert brought down his staff on the ground, and a shockwave of ice and snow raced at the creatures. "THOU SHALL NOT PASS!" As the Snarlfangs froze solid, he turned and grinned at Ozzy. "I always wanted to say that!"
Helga pointed to the creatures. "It won't hold them, they're resistant to Ice and Cold. We only have a few seconds."
Delbert bowed to her. "Fear not, madame, it will only take me a few seconds to give them a lesson in Thermodynamics. They are infused with the power of Winter, and I'm going to take that away from them." He raised his staff in the air, small whirlwinds racing from it to each of the Snarlfangs. Ozzy, Helga, and Rastfian retreated as intense cold began to radiate from the Snarlfangs, racing to Delbert, who sucked it up like a sponge. The ice around them melted as heat radiated from them, and then their fur caught fire, and they screamed like cats whose tails got stepped on. More and more Cold poured from them.
And Delbert began to grow. Ice formed on his skin, then became his skin. As the six Snarlfangs died from the intense heat, he shot up to ten feet tall. His beard and hair became blue mist, and his eyes glowed with blue fire. His laugh was like a great wind roaring in the North.
Then he staggered backward and began to shrink. Ozzy didn't dare touch him as he collapsed, but Helga was there to ease him down. Frost formed on her armor and the ground around Delbert. Ozzy could feel the cold radiating from him. A moment later, Delbert opened his eyes, still very blue.
"I think I need to lie down, and I have a huge craving for a bowl of churn milk."
Ozzy looked at the six smoking carcasses. "I'd say you earned a break after that."
Delbert walked slowly back to his lair, leaving a trail of icy footprints behind him. Rastfian looked at the Butcher, "Thermodynamics? What sort of magic is that?"
Ozzy grinned, "We do things a little differently here in Sedgewick. You'll get used to it. Give Delbert a day or two, and then get his lecture on Thermo, heat transfer, and absolute zero. It will give you some new ways of looking at things." As if to help him make his point, Myrna came out of the Smokehouse, riding Iggy. The salamander ran to the six charred Snarlfangs and his long tongue sucked one into his belly. Myrna yelled at Ozzy.
"New friend feels better, Fatfingers, ready to fight!" 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶
Ozzy took a deep breath and looked to where another Snarlfang had just come over the wall. "Good, because we aren't done yet."
