Gods in the Lianreida - Part 10 of 15
His troops responded with practised
ease, scattering like autumn leaves to fight independently. Even so Tanalir saw
he would lose them. Raising the bow he carried and began to lay down the
covering fire his men required in order to disengage. Part of the Dance was the
ability to break away and regroup. With the odds they were facing, his men needed
to disperse and harry the griffons, keeping them occupied until help arrived. His
arrow sank deep into one of the dead beasts advancing on his men. Another of
the once-griffins saw its companion stumble under the impact of one of his
arrows and raised its head from the elf it was savaging. The trooper writhed in
helpless agony, pinned by its claws to the ground.
Gods, where had they grown so
large?
The beast scanned the troops around
until it saw him. It screamed in outrage as he sighted on it, his bow at full
draw. His arrow caught it in the neck, but it stretched its beak wide and
screamed again.
For a heartbeat, Tanalir thought
the beast was going to scream and die. Instead, it ignored the arrow and bent
its head to the soldier trapped beneath its talons. Before the elven warrior
could cry out, the griffin had raised its foot and disembowelled him with its
beak. Tears clouded Tanalir’s eyes and he fired another three arrows into the
hideous creature before he realised his arrows were having no effect. It was then
he heard the same voice chanting that had answered the griffins’ screams with a
roar.
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