Vaile wasted no time and once again booted the earthen door to his improvised and temporary housing off its equally earthen hinges, sending the door flying off into the air and then directly into the face of a rather unfortunate Werean hunter. Said hunter then obeyed one of Isaac Newton’s Laws of Motion and went flying, eventually impaling himself on a well-placed fallen tree branch, driving said branch straight through his flimsy cloth garments and through his gut. As the shocked Werean looked on, Vaile strode out from his ‘for the moment’ lodgings and, in a voice that commanded both respect and fear, demanded one simple thing.

“WHAT. ARE YOU DOING. IN MY SWAMP?!”

Taken aback and confused by the nonsensical question and the event that transpired prior to it being asked, the Werean hunters were unable to react fast enough to mount any kind of decisive action against their intended targets. In fact, Vaile used this remarkable opportunity to race over to a hunter with speed that only a high-level player could muster and proceed to plant both feet into the unfortunate son’s face, resulting in said face and the head attached to it exploding like a four-week-old jack ‘o lantern that had been hit by a four-door sedan moving at 50 miles-per-hour.

This only shocked the Werean into even more of a stunned state, and Vaile, being the troll and eccentric that he was, took the opportunity to withdraw into the brush and out of sight, using his minimap to keep from being lost as he climbed up a tree and waited for another moment to show off.

At this moment, the three Beastmen burst out from the compressed dirt hut, with Blaer using her massive black owl wings and magic to rocket up through the roof while Mazrag charged out the now doorless front door and Dur’kor burst through a wall like a hairier and more aggressive animal version of the god damn Kool-Aid Man. This shook the Werean out of their stunned state and the fight began for real.

The Werean hunters had been prepared and had all the tools they needed to catch a Beastman or three, but they had only ever used such tools against low-level or juvenile Beastmen. Their tools were, for all intents and purposes, useless against a being that was as high-leveled (relatively speaking) as the three they were attempting to take on, not to mention all three Beastmen had a history with dealing with these kinds of tools. This meant that the weighted nets, paralytic-poison-covered darts, arrows and knives and even their thrown bolas had minimal if any effect on those whom they currently faced. Not to mention there was a fourth combatant hidden and waiting for another chance to show off.

One of the Werean was sent flying as Dur’kor backhanded her into the trunk of a large tree. Said Werean popped a potion and was about to return to the fight when she heard the crackle of someone running at her from outside the immediate combat zone. She barely turned around and saw what, or rather who, was charging at her before slipping into death as the fully cloaked entity from earlier shouted something she couldn’t understand while smashing her over the head with a metal object.

…

Nyantony watched as his wife was backhanded into a tree by the feral savage that was raging uncontrollably. He then watched with joy as his bae drunk a potion that he had bought her and move to reenter the fight. However, his joy was short lived as the entity from earlier that had kicked the head of one of his companions so hard his head popped rushed out of the brush and yelled something in Multi-Race Common.

“MY GOD! In comes Vaile with a steel chair!”

With that shout, the man in heavy clothing smashed his girlfriend over the head with a flat-ish metal object so hard that the metal itself bent and his bae’s skull caved in. Outraged and distraught, Nyantony tried to leap onto the entity, but said being dodged to the side with minimal effort and, with a kick to his stomach, send Nyantony tumbling up into the air. As he fell back down to the ground, he heard the being say more nonsense before a fist to the face ended his thinking for good.

“I got this from a certain fictional Hunter… Eat some ‘Rock’, why don’t ya?”

…

Blaer’s magic called forth razor-sharp thorny vines from the ground and made them wrap around a few Werean. As the vines wrapped around their target, Blaer directed them to constrict tighter and tighter and move around as they did so. The clothes on their bodies were soon shredded along with their flesh as her victims screamed in agony and their blood flowed out from between the serpentine thorny brambles.

A few Werean attempted to free their companions, only to have Blaer direct even more wicked spells at them, twisting their bodies and minds into something more akin to a monster than a member of the Races. By the time the incantations had run their course, both those wrapped by the brambles and those who underwent a rapid and agonizing biological change were either dead or utterly mad. Content with this, Blaer dropped projectile spells on top of those few who yet lived with sadistic glee.

Dur’kor and Mazrag, on the other hand, had no real magical potential of their own and contented themselves with merely beating their opponents to death as though they were two rough and rowdy boys trying to make their sister’s life miserable by destroying her rag dolls. And, to be brutally honest, they were having a blast doing so. Perhaps they felt something cathartic and calming about ripping someone’s leg off and then beating his ally to death with it before using it as a spear to impale a third person. Or maybe they were just doing it for the love of violence and a sense of revenge for those who had suffered at the hands of those like the ones they were killing? Who knows?

Either way, they seemed to be having a grand old time with what they were doing, and neither Vaile nor Blaer seemed to be inclined to stop them from having their fun. The Werean hunters (or what few remained of them) on the other hand had endured enough of the obviously bad situation they had put themselves in and broke into a wild run through the treacherous Karnarous Forest in an attempt to escape death. Some few managed to get out of sight, but more than an insignificant number fell as they ran like the terrified fools that they were.

Vaile and the three Beastmen took a look at their bloody work and concluded that it was time for a change of scenery, and with that decision they made their way back towards the hidden main encampment of the unified Beastman Tribes.