There was no time for plans or preparation. Ozzy saw death coming for them. And while he and Suzette might walk back from it, the soldiers wouldn't. And what this monster could do to an army wasn't worth thinking about. It was bigger than him, and higher level, that was obvious, but was it tougher? Only one way to find out. He charged at the bear, his own roar blasting forth, but drowned by the thunderous roar of his opponent. Even as he ran, he didn't like the match-up. He was big, but that thing was bigger, with several times his mass. And running on all fours, keeping it's center of gravity low. The most likely outcome was him getting in a shot, then getting knocked down and pinned beneath it. Not an ideal spot to fight a bear.

He was already planning to try a half-assed bullfighting maneuver, stepping to the side and trying to slice into a leg, when twin beams of sunlight hit the bear in the face and its charge stopped as it stood up and roared, shaking its head and momentarily blinded. Ozzy had a split second to make a decision, and didn't dodge. Instead, he shrunk, dropping from fifteen foot tall to ten, and slid between the bears legs on his back like he was stealing second base. He was sliding across the icy ground and slammed his hog splitter into the bears crotch as he slid past, the blade cutting deeper as he went. He stood immediately as he got clear, and brought his weapon around in an arc, aiming at the right hamstring. The bear had roared in pain from the first cut, a deep growl that became a high-pitched whine of pain. It looked down, trying to find him, then roared again as Ozzy hit it in the back of the leg, and it lurched to the side in pain. But even as it did, it was turning and dropping to all fours. A huge paw hit the Butcher hard, sending him tumbling twenty feet away and leaving deep gashes across his chest, shredding his apron.

Half of the soldiers were down, unconscious or terrified. This was an unimaginable frightening creature, the likes of which they were never meant to fight. Those who could, ran fifty feet away before they could control themselves. Only four stayed at their posts, shaking and holding onto the frames of their weapons. Bertrand and Ernest ran to those, grabbing them into hugs, slapping them on their backs, and getting their attention. "Let's get moving guys! They're going to need us! We'll man the cranks, you grab the ammo and load them up." Their friendly voices couldn't be heard by abused ears, but their smiles and attitude said it all. The men responded. They were soldiers and had a job to do. It made it a little easier seeing they weren't alone in the fight.

Titania was cursing, "Who the blazes released Dornikalan's Duck of Doom from it's chains! Nothing else washes away a curse like that! Dammit, if I had been ready I could have bottled it all up and made my fortune selling it to the Honey-hunter Clan of the Thousand Hectare Forest. They've been looking for a totem spirit for ages!"

Suzette had several questions about that statement, but their wasn't time, and she had a particular worry. "What happens if we kill that bear?"

"Oh, well, either all of us get fur coats, or it picks the strongest of us, and they become the new avatar of the bear."

"Then be ready to bottle it up if you can, because we need to kill it if we want to live." Silvery armor was covering her as she said this, and she gained inches of stature. Her skin paled and her ears grew long and sharp. With a Silverthorn Dagger in each hand, a fae warrior raced into battle.

Titania righted her cauldron and began to toss ingredients into it, grumbling all the while. "Oh, sure. You get to go cut things while I stay here and cook. Poor old Titania, reduced to a support role. This is what happens when you promise to go all goody-two-shoes and quit terrorizing villagers. But let's see what we can do to help, I've got curses I haven't used in decades. Melf's Acidic Midges? Naw, too much fur on that critter. They'd never get through it all, unless..." The old witch got to work, mumbling to herself, as Ozzy and Suzette engaged in direct combat.

The painful slice to the groin Ozzy had dealt meant he was top priority for the Jarl-turned-Cave-Bear. It lumbered toward him, wincing at each step and limping on three legs. The Butcher had recovered and was getting ready to play tag with the huge creature. He elected to stay smaller, and a little quicker. He began circling away from the bear's path, forcing it to turn, and forcing it to put weight on the crippled leg, slowing it up. Ozzy ducked in close suddenly and threw a hard slice across the bears snout, then ducked away from a paw and danced back, getting distance. Before working out long nights in the corral and mastering the weapon, he never could have done this. Fighting against the maniac mercenary captain and his friends had taught him the importance of hitting and moving.

Reinforcements arrived in the form of a host of nearly invisible wind sprites, coming to their Mistress's aid. They danced around the bear's head, poking at his eyes, and shouting into his ears. They were an annoyance, and when he swatted at them, Ozzy scored another hit on the crippled leg. Two shadowy hounds appeared. They were unable to cause wounds to the beast, until they latched their jaws onto the injured hamstring and gnawed at the wound. Suzette leaped to the bear's back, stabbing with her daggers. The long blades could just pierce the heavy fur and prick the skin beneath, but each small prick delivered a dose of poison. Each dose was minor, but they began to add up. Her weight was so small, and the small pricks so minor, that at first her opponent had no idea she was even there.

As Ozzy had feared, he could tell that the bear was regenerating it's wounds. But that was slowing as the poison got to work. He didn't yell to Suzette or acknowledge her presence, and she kept quiet, silently stabbing into its back. She continued her silent campaign to poison the creature, as Ozzy taunted the bear and made it chase him. But at some point, as it swatted away the annoying dogs, dispersing them back to shadow, it realized it had a rider. Discovered, she put her blades into each ear and twisted them around, deafening the bear and putting her poisons into its skull. Unable to reach her, it rolled across the ground, forcing her to leap for safety and run. Ozzy managed a shallow cut as it dislodged Suzette. Seeing her dance away, and Ozzy staying out of reach, it stood up and roared its frustration, then began moving toward the encampment, running fast on only three legs, rage letting it ignore the pain of the small wounds.

As it got close, Titania cackled and yelled out, "Ha, let's see how you like this, you furry nuisance. I finally remembered the words to Mafdet's Cure for Shedding. How someone with a fur allergy got nominated for the goddess of cats is beyond me." Sulfurous fumes rose from the cauldron, enveloping the bear. What emerged was a different type of creature altogether, bald without a shred of fur, and somehow, more monstrous because of that. The puzzled creature looked down at its body, then at the cackling witch and aimed for her. It swatted aside two wagons like they were toys and bore down on her as she was finishing her next curse.

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Titania was used to threats, and didn't budge. "Here me, Melf Brightblaze, you old bastard. Lend strength to my curse! I'll even forgive you for dumping me for that Tasha floozie!" Whether or not the spells creator heard her plea, wherever he was, the effects were amazing. A huge cloud of four-inch long mosquitos, their proboscis dripping with acid, swarmed the bear, stinging it's bare skin everywhere. Then, with the skill of a veteran curse-witch, she grabbed the handle of her cauldron and ran as fast as she could. She heard the enraged bear running behind her, and for the first time in ages, was afraid. "Dammit, shouldn't have brought the bucket with me, and I'm getting fat. That's another thing being good does, means you don't need to run away from the Inquisition so much. Time to find this thing another playmate and take up jogging." Circling around the camp, even as the bear got closer, she saw Ozzy running to intercept her pursuer. "Oh, he'll do nicely."

Ozzy had regained his full height as he had raced after the bear trying to catch the witch. Now, as they changed course, he pivoted and cut across the circle, slamming into the bear and knocking it over. As it was laying, exposed on the ground, he hit it hard, then once again, opening huge wounds. The bear's back was showing the effects of Suzette's poison, the skin rotting and green. The midges had covered it in bites, the acid penetrating the skin and covering it in a rash of itching wounds that would have driven it mad if it wasn't already insane. The red eyes blazed as it focused on Ozzy and it lunged at the Butcher, knocking them both to the ground. Ozzy felt strong arms surround him, and as the bear stood, was locked into a bear hug. The huge maw opened wide.

Ozzy's arms were free, and he grabbed for the huge fangs that would easily bite off his head. Holding one lower and one upper fang, he endured the pain in his back as he kept the bear's maw wide. And then he breathed out, aided greatly by the the bearhug constricting him. A huge gout of flame that would have been acceptable to the Drakonic Council roared from his mouth as he poured fourth his Butcher's Breath straight down his attackers throat. Along with the flames were small sharks, eager to tear into the burning flesh of the bear's insides. Someone else thought that was a good idea as well. Chainey took advantage of the opening and unwound from Ozzy's arm, racing down into the bear's throat and stomach.

The Great Bear roared in pain and surprise, raised Ozzy over its head, and slammed him into the ground hard. The follow-up attack would have been devastating, but Chainey was on the inside, twisting and churning, doing damage to the charred interior organs, and having a wonderful time. He was a reformed demon, but did enjoy his work, and if he did his best to inflict pain and damage, it was only to save his partner. The bear twisted and danced around, roaring in pain, and then its great claws tore at its own stomach, creating a gaping wound that let it grab Chainey and pull the links out of its body. Chainey managed to grab most of the bear's liver on the way out, but lost it as the bear stood and began whirling it around, advancing on Ozzy. It would have been a sound tactic if Chainey hadn't simply wrapped itself around the bear's forearm and began squeezing and grinding into the flesh, burning as it glowed red-hot and channeled fire from the pit.

Ozzy was bloodied and battered, but still in the fight. He quit dodging, and concentrated on doing damage, hitting the bear in the wounded gut and legs. Twice he took slashes from it's claws, and he was losing a lot of blood. He was about to charge in again, when Suzette leaped to the bear's shoulders, her legs around its neck. Her daggers were in her belt, and instead she wielded two hair sticks that normally held back her locks as she served drinks. They'd been drained of power when she stabbed the Fae Duchess and had taken a long time to recharge. But recently, she'd learned to use the poison from her realm to speed the process. Their full potency was restored, and she stabbed one into each of the bear's eyes, pushing hard to force them in completely.

The bear screamed as the Manticore Poison on the artifact rotted its eyes and worked its way into its brain. Any lesser creature would have died, but like the old Duchess, the Jarl was powerful enough to survive, though horribly wounded. And it still had its nose, and knew where Suzette was. As she flipped off its back and began running, it followed her, any pain forgotten, and only intent on killing her as she raced toward the dubious safety of the tumbled wagons. Running full tilt she passed between the two loaded onagers, withe the Avatar of the Great Cave Bear in close pursuit.

Ernest motioned for the two soldiers to pull the triggers as Bertrand said, "B is for Bruising Bad-Boy Bully Bears."

At point blank range the two war machines fired, effectively hitting the bear in the face with the force of two cannonballs. Blood and bones flew everywhere and it was knocked backwards, tumbling towards Ozzy. The Butcher's great weapon rose high and came down on the hairless neck, slicing deep and splattering blood. It took three strokes, even with the bonuses from his Slaughter ability, but on the third, the head rolled off, and the bear died.

From the body rose the Spirit of the Great Cave Bear. It had been bound for so long that the spirit didn't try to escape, and only looked for its next host. And it spotted Ozzy. This one would do. The last host was strong, but this one was better. The Butcher stood over the bear, wounded and bloody, and looked up at the spirit bear, sensing its intent, and understanding how much more powerful he could be. And then he laughed. "Sod off, I don't need you, and don't want you. Find someone else."

Its offer rejected, the spirit became enraged, but before it could try to possess the Butcher, a cackling voice yelled out, "No you don't! Clickety Clack, in the Sack." The insubstantial spirit felt itself drawn into a small cloth sack held by the old witch, and as the last of it disappeared, she tightened the strings and tied them tight. "Knew this would come in handy someday. Never throw a good Spirit Pouch away, no matter how bad they smell."

Ozzy sat down on the ground, and then laid flat. Suzette began casting a healing spell, trying to staunch his wounds. But as much pain as he was in, he was curious. "You keep around a sack for catching spirits?"

"Don't be silly, cheaper to use an old pot for them. This bag took me over a hundred years to craft, with thread made from the beards of a dozen sages. Damnably hard to deal with sages. They drive a hard bargain. I made this to catch Death when he came for me the next time. Won't have it now, but this sucker is going to sell for enough gold to let me sit on a beach somewhere for a goodly number of years, sipping fruity drinks and ogling the young surf elves . After that, I won't mind so much if Death catches up to me someday. Which reminds me, I need to start jogging again. I won't make it easy on him."