Frost threw the spear, shooting it through the air like an arrow from an archer's bow. It zipped in a line directly toward Shamus' heart. The other soldiers stared with wide eyes at the flying weapon, unsure of how to react.

But Shamus reacted calmly, his red eyes burning with fire. Reaching out with both hands, he caught the frozen spear in mid-air.

Then he snapped it in half.

Corporal Shamus grinned, then ran directly at Frostiliucs. His side bled from the knife wound, trailing drops in the mud. The soldiers, now a dozen in total, raised their rifles.

Frost pivoted and fled. He was outmatched in a fight against this many soldiers. Frost pulled on the water, forming armor just in time to fend off a volley of musket fire.

Bam, bam, bam.

The impact of the shots knocked him to the ground, clanking against his newly formed armor. Frostilicus stumbled and fell face first in the mud.

A moment later, Shamus slammed his body weight into Frost's prone form. The corporal proceeded to remove Frost's helmet. The last thing Frostilicus saw was the image of Shamus Sharpshot knocking him out cold.

...

Frolick crept along the edge of the brush on all fours like a cat stalking a mouse. He was careful, quiet, and utterly camouflaged.

No way they catch me, Frolick thought. I'll teach them a thing or two.

Most of the soldiers were lined up in orderly rows facing the castle. Those manning the canons bombarded Hailstone Keep with round after round of explosive iron balls. The castle walls wouldn't last much longer under the duress.

The really strange thing is, Frolick thought. Where are those Fivin' frost mages? You would think they'd put up a fight.

No matter. Frolick would have a little fun on his own.

Creeping forward with sheer stealth, he made his way toward the back of the company, where they kept their animals untended. There were about four dozen shaggy, hairy muskoxen. They were ugly brutes. The creatures looked like enormous brown hairballs with white horns that curled down and then up like hooks.

The really noticeable thing, though, was their pungent smell. Frolick walked up and patted one of the creatures on the head. "Guess they call you a muskox for a reason. That musk is disgusting." He held his nose.

The creature let out a noise that sounded like a deep, low bellow. It tilted his head to one side, looking askance.

"Ah," Frolick said in a quiet but cheerful voice. "You've not met an Animal Speaker before, eh? Well, pleased to make your acquaintance."

He looked over the creatures. They wore thick black collars and were harnessed together like beasts of burden. Attached to the muskoxen were large empty sleds that had once held the cannons now being used to destroy Hailstone Keep.

"Well, well, well," Frolick said. "That's not too nice now, is it?"

The muskox nearest him let out a sad moan. It nuzzled against Frolick's side.

"Let me see about that," Frolick said, reaching out and undoing its straps. They slid right off. "Only four dozen more to go."

Frolick worked methodically, weaving in between each animal, careful to keep out of sight of the Flintlock soldiers. It took a good forty minutes to free all the muskoxen of their tethers. None of them had left the group to wander away in the meantime.

"Well then," Frolick said, turning to the beasts. "You're all free now. So go on, git."

They stared at him blankly. A couple bellowed and flapped their tails.

"C'mon," Frolick said. "Do I need to spell it out for you? You're free to go."

The muskoxen huffed and stared back. They were quiet creatures. Even as an Animal Speaker, Frolick had trouble understanding their intentions. They communicated through snorts and stomps. Subtle gestures carried hidden meaning.

"Oh, I see," Frolick said, furrowing his brows. "You want to have a little fun, eh?"

The oxen stomped in accord. They shifted their postures, and several jutted their horns.

"Well, I like the idea," Frolick said, stroking his chin. "Very interesting proposal."

More huffs and bellows.

"Get to it then," Frolick said, waving with his hand toward the soldiers. "But make sure you take off after you do. Not worth sticking around these louts."

The muskoxen stomped their feet and stampeded.

They were quite the sight to behold. Each of the enormous creatures had to be at least 500 pounds. Running in unison, they cut a path directly through the Flintlock army.

From behind.

Soldiers gasped in agony as men were crushed underfoot. Amid the confusion, the Flintlock dared not fire directly upon the animals lest they risk hitting other soldiers.

It was a bold play.

The muskoxen wreaked havoc as they crashed through tents, supplies, weapons and even managed to knock over a cannon or two before taking off into the adjacent evergreen forest, leaving a cacophony of carnage and destruction in their wake.

Frolick smiled widely as he surveyed the scene. Better get out of here, he thought to himself. They'll come looking to investigate how the animals got loose.

He crept along the periphery of the disorganized company. With soldiers running left and right, he managed to keep hidden, blending in with a set of bushes abutting the encampment.

"And Frost thinks he's the only one who can fight," Frolick whispered. "Well, frost magic ain't the only thing that matters in this world." He retreated farther away from the soldiers and into the trees.