"I'll hold this side. Deal with the ones behind us!" I shouted.
"They're behind us?" The cartographer's panic spread instantly, and my group of soldiers became a milling chaotic jumble of steel, flesh, and fear. They barely had time to turn before the monsters reached us.
Everything happened at once. Two Khark Hounds hit my kinetic shield with all the force of two running monsters, each weighing maybe ten times what I did. A kinetic shield disperses the energy striking it as best it can, but the force must go somewhere. I would have been barrelled over in an instant if not for Horralain at my back, steadying me with his own considerable weight. The hounds rebounded, momentarily dazed by the arrested momentum. Their confusion didn't last. A terran might have stepped back, considered the problem and given me respite from the onslaught. But Khark Hounds do not relent, they threw themselves at me again and again, scrabbling claws at my shield, a frantic attempt to find any way past my defences. Behind me, the first of my soldiers died. They had no shield to hide behind and one of the hounds leapt forward, grabbed a soldier by his sword arm and wrenched him off his feet, dragging him away into the darkness where the monsters behind us could tear at him without intervention. None of his comrades dared go after him. They formed into a tight rank of steel pointed into the dark, hoping it would make a difference. Fools.
Fear takes many forms. Through Ssserakis, I have tasted them all. Terror is an interesting one. It was like force feeding Ssserakis; so much strength so quickly it seeped out into me. New strength flooded my limbs, giving me confidence. My cloak dissolved and Ssserakis sent shadowy spikes into the stone beneath my feet, anchoring us against the onslaught tearing at my shield.
"Help the others," I growled the words at Horralain, waving my stone arm at him. He hesitated a moment, his jaw working back and forth as he tried to decide whether to follow my orders or not. Eventually he hefted his hammer and strode off to meet the attack coming from behind me.
The two hounds in front were still scrabbling at my shield. They resemble wolves in many ways, though far larger and more terrifying. Their shoulders reach as tall as a fully-grown man, and that meant they towered over my smaller height. Each beast had a mouth full of teeth, and four eyes set two to either side of its head, all filled with savage malice. Ears on top of their heads swivelled back and forth in a constant motion. The beasts are often called Razorbacks, and it's a name that is well earned. Bony shards, each sharp as a blade, breached the skin of the monsters all along their backs, forming a natural armour and weapon both. I could see them both so clearly as they tore at my shield, snarling and snapping, desperate to get through. It would not take much for them to tear me apart, and in truth there was little keeping them from doing just that.
I could hear the fight behind me, and it did not sound as though it was going well. The cartographer was screaming, high-pitched and incessant. Soldiers were shouting, mostly impotent threats to bolster courage. Horralain was grunting with some effort. Whether we were winning or losing, I couldn't help. All I could do was hold back the two monsters trying to tear us apart, certain in the knowledge that if we were attacked from both sides at once, we would all die.
Did I mention the intelligence of Khark Hounds? It did not take them long to find the edges of my shield. I could not contour it to the tunnel's shape exactly, and once they found those edges, I knew it would soon fall. Rather than let them tear my shield from my hands, I acted. I dropped the shield and released a pulse of kinetic energy at the same time. Behind me, the cartographer was caught in the blast and thrown into the backs of the soldiers. In front of me, the hounds took the blast head on. The first had been up on its hind legs, scrabbling at the top edge of my shield, and the blast knocked it over and sent it sprawling. The second of the monsters had been on all four legs and weathered the pulse easily, powerful claws gouging into the stone beneath it. I may have ruffled its fur and bloodied its snout, but neither was enough to stop a Khark Hound. Neither was enough to even faze the beast.
I barely had time to react as the monster threw itself on me, but I just about managed to throw my left arm in its way. It was not really conscious thought that made me do it, but rather a need to protect myself. In time of crisis, we terrans usually put our arms in harm's way before the rest of us. Teeth locked around my stone arm, jaws clamping down so hard flesh and bone would have snapped. But my petrified arm did not. Of course, having a stone arm didn't really save me. Before I could think of striking back, I was wrenched off my feet and thrown side to side as the Khark Hound ragged me about like a child.
What happened next is a blur. Perhaps you have a seen a dog savage a rabbit or other small animal? Now imagine you are that animal. I was whipped side to side so quickly my eyes could not keep up. I was smashed against the wall and the floor, and my shoulder wrenched from its socket. A dislocated shoulder is pain stacked on top of pain, but I couldn't even scream, such was the ferocity of the attack. I might even have blacked out for a moment or two, it's hard to say. For all my skill and power, I was beaten so soundly by a couple of monsters I learned to summon when I was ten years old. There is little like a sound beating to put life in perspective.
Horralain saved my life. The big thug charged the Khark Hound, hammer held high. He couldn't swing it, of course, not while the monster held me in its jaws, but Horralain is a big man and big men are considered threats even by monsters. The hound considered me dead, or close enough to it that I was no longer a threat. It tossed me aside and I collided with the tunnel wall, collapsing into a broken heap, barely able to get a coherent thought to stick in my head.
In blurred relief, I saw my stone hand in front of me. I was pushed up against the wall, where it sloped outward, half collapsed to the side and feeling boneless. Yet I could see the fingers of my stone hand slowly clenching and unclenching. They stopped as I blinked away the fuzzy confusion, and when I pulled my arm close the fingers were still once more. The hand and the rest of my forearm was blessedly free of pain, but my shoulder felt like fire under the skin. My arm slumped at an odd angle and though I could just about move it, the pain that brought on was dizzying. At that moment I wished I hadn't argued against Hardt coming along
What are you doing?
"I have to fight." The words slurred from my mouth.
Idiot. Don't fight these creatures, they are nothing to us. Dominate them.
"I…"
We are not prey, Eskara!
Horralain was still fighting, swinging Shatter and then bringing the haft up to guard against reply. I watched groggily as one of the Khark Hounds locked teeth around the hammer's haft and ripped it from Horralain's hands. As strong as the big man was, there was no matching strength against a monster of such size. The other hound was on its feet again, stalking, making ready to pounce on him. Behind us, another soldier was down, bleeding everywhere. The other soldiers were gathered close, holding onto each other for protection and courage both. The cartographer was curled into a ball against the tunnel wall, holding her knees and shaking with each great sob she let out, her precious map lying forgotten before her.
I watched as both Khark Hounds went in for the kill. Horralain acted faster than I would have thought possible, punching the first of the monsters where its snout should have been, and then stepping back from the other and reaching out, somehow gripping hold of its muzzle and forcing its jaws shut. It was a losing battle. No matter what the rumours down in the Pit said about him, no man could wrestle a Khark Hound and live. Horralain was facing off against two, and all to protect me.