Winter. The Southlands. The Nation Of Farque.
Aellothos. A type of harpy, smaller and more agile than a normal harpy. Often found in mating pairs. Not particularly dangerous unless your a lone traveler going through their range.
Or unless they've congregated in groups. Which usually occurs in adverse weather conditions. Driving them from their ranges, usually in heavy rain or heavy snowfall.
Like it is now, as heavy snow has fallen across the northwest of the lands Farque and northwards for the last day and a half.
Driving pairs of Aellothos south from their ranges about fifty miles north of the border of the nation that bares the Farque family name.
Hamblin the recruit pops up from the boulder he's crouched behind, and lets fly with an arrow from his bow.
The shaft takes one of the Aellothos in the side, causing it to let out a piercing screech of pain, and drop out of the tree it was perched in.
"That was a lucky shot" mutters Hamblin the farmer's son, who then looks to his right, to about ten yards away, and calls out "How is he?".
"Fine" replies Maselle, who briefly pauses before quietly adding "I think".
She follows that with "We've got the bleeding stopped". As she and Markell have staunched the flow of blood from the wounds along Farnid's back.
"They might not be big, but those bloody clawed hands of their's can scrape through our leather armour" says Garmon, the oldest and largest of the boys in their group of ten recruits.
Who this morning, have taken the eastern trail. The day long trail out from the town of Gildin Dale.
They were sent out by general Dorc early this morning at the break of dawn.
With the large ork telling them he'd catch up to them sometime during the day.
As of yet, the ork warleader who all the recruits think is too fat and too slow to keep up with them.
Even though apparently his kind can go for days on end without sleep. And can keep moving without pause when he wants to.
For all that, he hasn't caught up to them, and it's already midday. And now the recruits, who were following one another fairly closely due to the inclement weather.
Find themselves under attack from a group of Aellothos. Who have come south to get clear of the heavy snowfall in their natural habitat in the unruled lands to the north of the lands Farque.
The potential ranger Hamblin, who is one of the two recruits with a bow.
A longbow at that, looks at Garmon beside him, behind the boulder.
Who quietly says "Can you get a shot at that pair diving at Lamis and Claradene?".
The farmer's son, looks to the left, and through the falling snow sees the two recruits in question, pinned beneath some shrubs.
Unable to get to better cover, as a pair of Aellothos are taking turns diving down at them.
"Maybe" quietly says Hamblin, who then asks the older boy "What do you have in mind?".
Garmon, who like all the recruits is speaking in elven, just incase the Aellothos understand the common language. They don't. Explains to Hamblin what he intends to do.
As he listens, the recruit from the farming village of Polsten lifts a surprised eyebrow at the suggestion from the fourteen year old next to him.
"They're useless on the ground like their bigger cousins the harpies" says Garmon who has a broadsword strapped his back.
There's talk amongst the whole contingent of recruits based at Gildin Dale, that Garmon could very well be a swordmaster in the years to come, as he's that good when he wields his sword in training.
"I'll give it a try" quietly says Hamblin, half of whose shots have gone astray due to the falling snow.
The snowfall isn't heavy at the moment, but it is constant. Making it difficult for Hamblin the potential ranger, to hit more of his targets.
The farmer's son from the village of Polsten carefully watches the movement of the pair of Aellothos diving at Lamis and Claradene.
The winged creatures that are between four and half to five foot tall. Sometimes referred to as dwarf harpies.
Look to Hamblin that they prefer to attack in pairs. No doubt a mating pair.
He's counted at least twenty of them that he and the rest of the recruits find themselves under attack from.
But he figures there's more of them in this area of the forest they're in, to the east of Gildin Dale.
The falling snow is making it difficult to get an accurate count of them.
Taking an arrow from his covered quiver, Hamblin puts it to his longbow, and nods to Garmon.
The larger teen who has his broadsword in hand. Takes off running to their left.
Shouting and yelling as loudly as he does so.
While Hamblin stands, draws his bow back. And briefly pauses as he takes aim. Hoping the falling snow doesn't effect his shot too much.
His arrow hits one of the diving Aellothos, ripping through one of it's wings. Causing it to screech, and drop towards the ground.
It's mate screeches in outrage, and dives down to it.
Only to end up with it's right leg chopped off at the knee by Garmon's broadsword.
The largest of the teenage recruits kicks that screaming Aellothos in the head when it hits the ground.
While Lamis who is one of the quickest, if not the quickest in their group of ten.
Has rolled clear of the shrubs he was under with Claradene. Got to his feet, and shoved his shortsword into the back of the other Aellothos that Hamblin shot in the wing.
As the three to the left hurry to a clump of trees. Too thick for the winged creatures to get amongst.
There's a thump on the ground right next to Hamblin. Who sees a dead Aellothos lying next to him, with an arrow through the head.
The farmer's son from the village of Polsten wryly smiles knowing that Jinsa, the other recruit with a bow. Just shot that Aellothos out of the sky.
Hamblin will freely admit that Jinsa is a far better shot than he is. After all, her father is a master bowman, who is a senior ranger in one of their lord's armies.
Hamblin looks around, he can't spot Jinsa through the falling snow, but he hears her call out "I count at least thirty of them!" followed by "There's probably more!".
"Hell" mutters Hamblin, as there's a fair bit more of them than he thought.
And with this weather, and the Aellothos being in a bad mood to begin with, driven south by the constant snowfall over the last couple of days.
They probably thought the group of ten teenagers fair game. After all Aellothos, just like their larger cousins the harpies. Will eat just about anything, including people.
Infact they pretty much prefer eating humans over just about anything else.
Looking away to the right, Hamblin calls out "You okay over there?" followed by "Or do you need better cover?".
As he can see a few Aellothos circling above the trees that Maselle, Markell and the wounded Farnid are at the base of.
As Hamblin takes another arrow from his quiver, Maselle calls out "We need to move!".
The recruit from the farming village of Polsten nods, then calls out "Come by me, and head into the clump of trees Garmon and the others are in!".
Maselle and Markell help the wounded Farnid to stand, and Hamblin calls to them "Jinsa and i will cover you!".
The trio take off at run, with Maselle and Markell supporting Farnid, who has had his back clawed by an Aellothos.
As one of the circling winged creatures drops to the ground with one of Jinsa's arrows through it's neck.
Hamblin lets fly with the arrow in his longbow. He hits too, though not his intended target.
The Aellothos he was aiming for, moved to one side. Nevertheless he hit another one.
The cloth yard shaft punched right into it's chest, and halfway out the winged creature's back.
It drops down, crashing through the branches of the trees it was circling, before hitting the ground.
Maselle, Markell and the wounded Farnid run by the front of the boulder that Hamblin has used for cover.
The teenage recruit from the farming village of Polsten turns to follow them towards the clump of trees some of the others are in.
As he does, he's confronted by an Aellothos that's landed right next to him.
As it goes to rake him with one of it's long clawed hands. Hamblin kicks at it, hitting it right in the groin.
Not that you can really tell, but it seems that the Aellothos is male. As it drops to the ground, gasping in pain, cupping it's rather tender nether regions.
It gets another kick in the face for good measure. Smashing in it's sharp pointed teeth.
Hamblin jumps over it, and heads for the clump of trees, a number of the other recruits have taken shelter in.
Once he's in them, he's soon followed by Jinsa, not a particular tall young teen. Who uses a recurve bow, unlike the longbow that Hamblin prefers.
Jinsa whips out an arrow from her quiver, puts it to the belly of her shorter bow. Draws it back, and without seeming to aim, she lets the shaft fly out from beneath the trees.
The arrow takes another Aellothos, this one on the ground, hitting it in the throat.
As the dwarf harpy is ungainly on the ground, hoping about as it moves. Wings flapping as the creatures have never got the hang of moving about on the ground properly.
"I've never seen so many of them before" says Jinsa, who hails from a village even further north than Gildin Dale, closer to the border, but nearly a hundred miles further east.
The archer, daughter of a senior scout in their lord's armies, has seen Aellothos before.
Some even in groups during torrential rainstorms, but never as many that has congregated here, in the forest to the east of the town of Gildin Dale.
The two other members of their group of ten have made it into the thick clump of trees the rest of them have taken shelter in.
Marshay, who has her crossbow in her hands. And Dammis, who has a bleeding left arm, which he's wrapped with a cloth from his pack.
While he holds his long daggers in his hands. The blades of which are smeared with dark Aellothos blood.
"One of the nasty looking fucks got me" says Dammis, the smallest in their group of ten.
He turned thirteen just before he was picked up from his hometown, and brought to Gildin Dale for training.
He might be small and lithe, but the others all know he's extremely quick with his blades.
The youngest of them also likes to swear a lot. Even more so since they've been around general Dorc, who swears so much that one would hardly say what he actually speaks, can properly be called the common language.
"I got it, and it's fucking ugly looking mate for that" adds Dammis, who grunts as Maselle checks his ripped arm, to make sure he's bandaged it as best as he can.
After she does, and goes back to Farnid, to check his bleeding back that's been badly clawed.
Maselle looks up, and quietly asks "What should we do?".
Hamblin, who along with Jinsa is looking out into the falling snow, keeping an eye on the closest of the Aellothos, who aren't that keen on getting too close, as they've seen a number of others get shot down.
Turns and finds the others all looking to him.
The farmer's son from the village of Polsten, who leads the way when they take the trails for training.
Is silent for a few moments, then he says in a slightly dry tone "I gather this isn't exactly part of today's training".
The others all grin at that levity from thirteen year old, who will most likely be a ranger one day. And in all likelihood, will be a runner or messenger by the summertime.
As Jinsa lets fly with another arrow from her recurve bow, and mutters "Leg shot, damn snow".
Hamblin who is glad that even though with the attack upon them by an unknown number of Aellothos.
That none of the group panicked and ran off. Which no doubt would of led to their demise if they did.
Says to the rest of the group "We'll have to pick them off one by one, so they'll get the message to leave us alone".
The teenage recruit from the farming village of Polsten, continues with "We'll have to hunker down, and make camp for the".
He's interrupted by Jinsa next to him, quietly say "You hear that?".
She glances away to her left, back to the east, in the direction they've come from today.
Hamblin looks that way too, and frowns as he thinks he can hear something too. Even with the falling snow deadening the sound in the forest.
He's just about to say "It sounds like a horse, a heavy one as well".
When suddenly back towards the trail, something rather large and rather dark bursts out from the trees, heading up into the sky.
It's a blur, which both Hamblin and Jinsa see smash into one of the Aellothos, which basically vanishes in a spray of black blood.
The next moment there's a heavy thud just out infront of the clump of trees they've taken shelter in.
And they see the undead wardog Axe, who looks their way, wags his stubby tail barks a few times at them and the rest of the group. Before he leaps straight up into the air.
The massive canine jumps straight up about fifteen feet like an ordinary dog would do, slightly twisting as he does so.
Then all of a sudden he's a blur of motion shooting upwards into the falling snow, towards some of the circling Aellothos in the sky.
The next moment, one of the dwarf harpies hits the ground, well half of it does.
Nearby a second Aellothos, minus it's head, hits the snow covered ground.
Then a third, without it's left wing, arm and shoulder, lands right next to the headless Aellothos.
The next moment, there's a thud, and they see Axe on the ground, about sixty feet from where he was previously. The undead wardog, one of the three largest of their lord's wardogs, looks towards the recruits, barks a few times. Before taking off at a run through the forest, to where there's some more of the Aellothos.
As Axe does, they hear a voice shout from the direction of the trail "Verily, verily to arms, wot!" followed by "Hurry up you filthy green beast!".
A loud, a familiar roar can be heard after that, followed by a deep growling voice shout "Fucken get some!".
Hamblin looks at Jinsa next to him, then back at the rest of the group, and says to them "I guess we're being rescued" . . . . . .
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