The fight was in full swing, and so far the deer’s *ahem* unique dietary culture was accounting for as many enemies as they themselves were. which was a bit of a mercy all things considered.

Alba was rampaging around now ridden by our fair damsels of distress, who were teaming up to each spot and respond to things the other wasn’t. It turns out the old deer freezing up in lights does not apply to carnivorous monster deer, not even if an owl-bear is involved in the equation. But Alba was still making a fair accounting of themselves.

“so you mean to tell me that you lot calculated all the potential routes on the tour, and the one involving Rudolph the red mawed monster was considered the safest option?2 Mibbet grumbled between swings.

“only in the sense that this route had the least potential assassination points” Rosalind replied. “We couldn’t really calculate automata uprisings, fake ghosts, real ghosts, or carnivorous deer, this route looked the best on paper.”

“Well please next time can we send out scouts first?”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” Rosalind replied with a grin.

“Personally I prefer my fun to attempt to eat me less, and involve more caffeine” Mibbet shot back, pausing between swings to catch her breath, but lowering herself slightly on Alba’s back while she did so to avoid a ballistic Bambi to the face. Alba of course loved that, food was one thing, but food that threw itself in a face-ward direction? What was there not to love about a self delivering banquet, with an added fight for free? It was everything a terrifying abomination of mad magic could hope for, and more. With the added advantage that it reduced the competition, Alba was top abomination round here, and they fully intended to stay that way as long as possible.

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Elvira and Errol meanwhile were proving to be an excellent team, and for once Errol’s oversized armour was really proving handy. With these creatures having a tendency to prefer nomming on the facial and throaty regions of their target, and Errol’s breastplate practically reaching his nose, combined with a helmet so big it had practically a quiltworks worth of padding in to make it fit better the best description of his appearance was “he’s in there somewhere.”

So whenever a killer Cervidae conspired to crush him he would duck his head down in the ancient armour, looking for all the world like a caricature turtle, then jab with a weapon as they passed, and when they tried to rush him the time honoured little brother tactic of curl up in a ball until it’s time for revenge really paid off. This gear may be old, but that’s because great grandad bought good while the family were in a more comfortable position financially, and looked after it. So he was practically a fortified position, and an oh so handy distraction for Elvira, who was more than happy for him to serve as bait so she could bring Spikey into play to devastating effects while the dippy deer were trying to shew through a practical solid slab of bronze coated steel.

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Rascal of course was having the time of their lives, things to fight, lots of stuff to chase, the zoomies from long confinement to shake off, and food, all in one place. Of course being practically a quadrupedal barbeque in their own rights was a definite help. At the moment they were bounding from deer to deer, thoroughly bapping each one as they leapt. Of course things half a tonne of flaming feline bap tend to stay bapped, and however solid a deer is Rascal landing on them usually had spectacular results (for rascal, the deer would probably disagree, on the grounds of ouch.) When they lost their balance, or missed a chance to make a direct transfer from one target to the next they would smugly wash themselves, till a deer spotted them being smug and charged, resolving the issue with minimal wasted energy.

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Sir Leeroy, being the more experienced member of the group had opted for a lower energy option, and was weaponizing Trundles under the pretence of keeping the horses under control. (Of course by this point in the journey he needn’t have bothered, these horses had seen stuff maaan, until this journey he hadn’t realised equine were capable of the two thousand yard stare, yet here they were. What was it today? Protodragons? Machine men? The undead? Oh Carnivorous deer? That was new, oh well, bring it on, they’d soon learn why horses were better.

The high beam spell cast on the carriage lanterns was as previously mentioned fairly ineffective on the flesh feasting form of deer, but that didn’t stop the inevitable result, as a charging carriage crashed controlled by an armour clad maniac clashed with the Cervidae with a crunch. Turns out that frozen or not a massive bloody vehicle had something of an edge vs. deer. Of course with the addition of an Addy to the equation who was on the roof rack swinging a bloody great drill with one arm, and a pick with the other, all while occasionally discharging small beams from their solar crystal via their ocular unit (translation magic pew pew pew) and the end result was devastating.

If Mibbet had seen the creative use of those fancy pointy wheel hubs during this fight she would have been pleased as punch, but as previously mentioned she was otherwise engaged.

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At last the deer were starting to thin out from the fight, to the point where Rascal was grabbing a snack, there was still a long way to go of course. But then they spotted a figure in the distance that looked suspiciously like a wizard in a magic circle. Oh well they’d get to him soon enough, and learn not to sic flesh eating deer on travellers. But then they realised he was chanting. It was too late to stop him now, as all involved heard a familiar sound SQWOOMPH.