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.