Five gargoyles landed, forming a line before Gorn's small circle of defenders. One young boy charged the center gargoyle, who stood a full three feet taller than him, screaming his last words with heroic bravery. Two more fell as the gargoyles gave a mighty push forward, reaching the center circle. Then, Gorn completed his incantation.

"Keepers of the Earth, protect us now in our darkest hour! UNLEASH!" The elf shouted in a voice which was beyond his own lungs, carrying for hundreds of meters.

The center gargoyle was thrown up into the air as the Earth itself reformed into a gigantic fist. The fist snapped the beast like a twig, causing it to fall down with a grotesque thud. The ground continued to grow and come to life, the fist now taking on a massive humanoid shape.

The Earth Elemental stood a full fourteen feet high, with a girth equivalent to that of two gargoyles. With one swing it crushed, mauled, and smashed three of the other gargoyles before it. Even the charging force, consisting of hundreds of trolls, was slightly taken back by the stone giant.

The Venurians resumed their onslaught, pushing even harder to stop the retreat and to break through Gorn's line of defense. A troll used it's shield to bash the elemental hard. Barely phased, the elemental grabbed the troll's head with a single hand and crushed it, splattering blood and gore all over its arm.

Four more pounced at it, slashing, hacking, and hammering away at the cold stone torso. Small rocks were falling to the ground as pieces of it chipped away, but it continued fighting back with extreme prejudice. Each swing added a new troll or gargoyle corpse to the battlefield.

Still, Gorn's defense was buckling. The elemental could only fend off so many foes at one time, and more pushed from the sides now. One gargoyle in particular had mowed through four militiamen before Amelia slew it with a solid blow from her mace. Two more trolls came bounding up through the same hole in the defensive circle just after. Luckily, one was knocked out by an overswing from the elemental, and the other was struck by the body, only to be coup de graced by the militia.

As more and more Venurians pushed from every side but the south, one of the aerial gargoyles decided it would be wise to end their leader's life from above. He unlatched one of his throwing spears and hurled it at Gorn, missing by less than two feet. This got the Elder's attention in time for the diving swoop. Just as the gargoyle was about to make its skewering attack, Gorn unleashed a short burst of flame into the air, burning its eyes and completely blinding it. With its concentration and sighted ruined, Gorn made a graceful sidestep and run it through as it crashed into the back of the elemental.

"We must flee now, we have given as much time as we could to the militia." Gorn told the acolytes. "Let us hope Lady Aieris can provide us with some cover when we make our escape." The elf then faced the north again, his eyes clouding over and his voice booming, "Avelia, aid my protector! May the enemies of this land tremble as his brothers join him!" The ground shook as three more sections of the ground jutted upwards, one of which sent a charging troll flying ten feet into the air. In a matter of seconds they had formed into identical earth elementals and joined with the first to make a defensive wall, blocking part of the Venurian charge.

Gorn, however, nearly collapsed from the strain. His fragile body was caught by Amelia and Celeste. They both hummed incantations in perfect unison, causing a blue aura to surround the Elder. When it faded, the elf opened his eyes again, but he remained exhausted. "Mental...my dears...it looks like I will have to be carried, or I will die..."

"Not if I can help it." Celeste was on the verge of tears, chanting once more. Both clerics began carrying the fallen Elder in the direction of the retreat, keeping up a continuous incantation to make the burden a little lighter. With the help of the massive elementals, and the bravery of the militia, Gorn and both acolytes passed the wooden barricade in the center of the town. All that remained to the north were the four elementals slowly crumbling before the vicious Venurian charge.

Above, thirty-seven elite gargoyles continued their onslaught against the fleeing defenders.

Elmric stood in awe of the massive elementals for a moment, then bade his men to run through the gate. He saw a few Venurian stragglers in the east, but the forests were perfectly clear. He led them into the forest, and they all kneeled down, waiting for the rest of the militia to arrive so he could try to form a plan. Elmric had about twenty of his men left, and they were all sorely exhausted, several of them were severely wounded, and these Elmric went to quietly, and healed the best he could.

Gorn had slowed the Venurian assault, and the retreating militia men now had some chance of escaping safely. Although there were still gargoyles in the air, the militia had finally passed the barricade.

Eyeing the sky, and the near fourty gargoyles that still flew above, Aieris decided to change her plan slightly.

"Archers, get out to the street and help me with these damned flying things!" she yelled in the direction of the hidden archers, before she started to fire.

This was much different from the battle at the gates, where any shot was almost guaranteed to hit something. These enemies were in flight, and even worse, it was not smooth flight. This was a staggering, lurching flight, caused by the gargoyles weak wings.

This took much more concentration, but still, Aieris's first shot hit a smaller gargoyle in the back, just as it was plummeting towards the fleeing militia. The beasts wings buckled, and its flightpath changed, and it soon ran itself through the roof of a house slightly off the main road.

Her next shot took a gargoyle in the back of the skull, as it finished ripping its spear out of a now lifeless young boy, barely old enough to hold a sword.

And then, the gargoyles noticed her, still standing back by the barricade; and Aieris decided this would be a wise time to run away. Fast.

Luckily, the archers that had hidden for so long in the houses emerged, and began to fire skyward. Unfortunately, only three arrows struck their targets, and although both those targets died, four of the militia's arrows landed by the table, showering Aieris's dress with dirt, and one landed about two feet to the right of where her head would have been.

Deciding this would be a good time to run away, Aieris began to run to the west, but stopped as she saw one of Gorn's golems swarmed over by Venurians. The other golems were not faring well either, and soon they would have gargoyles in the sky, and trolls coming at them from behind. Then there would be no escape for the militia, or her.

Quickly, as she ran the width of the barrier, she pulled arrows from her pouch, and every five feet or so, set one alight, and threw it lightly into the jumble of broken furnishings. By the time she reached the houses, there was a nice fire going along half of the barricade, slowly moving towards the other half. And there were about thirteen gargoyles who had run out of wing power, running towards her on the ground.

"Retreat!" she called, hoping her archers would hear her and heed her, and then she ran with all her speed back through the allyway towards the west wall.

Durin was unsure of how Gorn intended to assist the militia’s retreat, for he had never seen Gorn as anything more then the wise city Elder. A green aura encompassed the aging elf as the unnoticed acolytes tended to the captains and what remained of their troops. A new vigor fueled all who were granted the ladies blessed touch. As Celeste and Amelia worked tirelessly at mending the wounded, a flaming arrow struck the ground near the now shattered gate. The flaming arrow before them signaled their withdrawal and the men would waste no time in making it.

“Fall back! Out the suthern gate, lads!” Durin and his men knew Gole was lost to them. However, a retreat now could salvage the strength of what remained of its people. Raenor began shouting to his men as while he and Durin continued to cleave through any pursuers. The speech of Raenor did not make it to the dwarf’s ear, for he was watching Gorn with the utmost intent. He did not know the elf’s plan and most certainly did not want to see the man who had watched over his home all his life fall this day.

The militia pressed forward while Durin and Raenor covered their retreat. It was then that Raenor questioned the security of the southern gate. Horror struck Durin at this point. He had no idea what lye in wait behind the southern gate. He prayed Aeiris had the foresight to inspect the path of retreat when she had formulated the plan. The lack of response from Durin to his questioning caused a heavy sense dread in Raenor. He charged forward with all his speed to the southern gate, leaving what remained of his men under Durin’s command.

Without much else to do, Durin continued to the south gate with Gole’s diminished militia. It was then that an unmistakable bellow came from behind the path of retreat. Durin turned to face the sound which he believed was Gorn crying out in need. What the dwarf’s eyes witnessed left him dumbstruck. The earth itself rose to defend Gorn! Such power was greater then any Durin had ever seen. Relief overcame the troubled dwarf; he now knew this was not a man who could fall to such lowly beasts.

This new sense of relief was dashed within moments as he spotted the gargoyles in flight above, circling and preparing for the kill. “Overhead! Watch yer backs lads!” Durin called to the militia who were blindly rushing forward. The gargoyles began their assault, swooping and skewering indiscriminately. These men were not prepared to deal with attacks from the sky. None would survive if left to fight this foe alone. Durin began taunting the gargoyles desperately; he could not defend a group of men a quarter of this size alone. One of the adequately goaded gargoyles took the bait and swooped down for Durin. With precision timing, Durin swiped skyward with his axe, shattering the fiend’s polearm. Reversing the direction of his attack, Durin ended the attack for this beast, striking it soundly in the neck.

The ground shook once more. This would generally frighten the average person, but Durin identified this as Gorn calling the earth-beasts to his side once more. “Good,” Durin thought, “Gorn is still fighting.” While this truth eased the dwarf’s mind a moment, a sea of troubles awaited above, preparing to come down on the men like an airborne tidal wave. Sadly Durin’s taunts, as fierce and insulting as ever, were now being ignoring by the winged rats. An arrow flew overhead and as if anticipating the path of the gargoyle, struck it mid-dive, sparing the life of at least one man. This was followed almost immediately by a volley of less delicate aim. Durin was unsure of the source of this attack, but was immensely grateful nonetheless. Turning back to the northern section of Gole, Durin saw what he had recently deemed impossible. Gorn lay limp in the arms of the acolytes. “Continue through tha gate! Watch tha sky and make yer way to Raenor or another captain! They will take charge of ye!” Durin cried to the militiamen.

Overcome by a flurry of rage and sadness, Durin charged north, towards the struggling healers. He barely took notice of the nearby barricades bursting into flames as he continued to his goal. From behind he heard who he identified as Aeiris give an order of retreat, but this was not his concern at the moment. A foolish gargoyle attempted to slow the empowered dwarf, but met the blood-soaked end of Durin’s axe all the same.

Finally he reached the exhausted trio. “Gorn! Gorn! By Avelia, what happened to him?”
The tearstriken Celeste answered, “Calm yourself, Durin, he has not been injured, physically anyways. He is drained and we need to get him off this battlefield.” Agony became Durin’s face. “Allow me to carry him, or at least to hew a path through these wretched, foul, cursed swine.”

Aieris was sprinting with all the endurance she could summon up. She was even catching up to the back of the retreating militia. The gargoyles behind her were catching up, despite her extreme effort. They brandished their polearms and prepared for the eventual strike if this continued. Knowing she would be unable to keep this up for much longer, she intentionally slowed down and allowed the three gargoyles to close the distance even faster.

She reached the back lines where a few dozen militia men were making their retreat out of the southern gate. The first gargoyle came bounding up and slashed, but she was ready. She tumbled right, nocking an arrow at the same time. When she completed the roll, she let loose the arrow straight into the charging gargoyle's neck. It keeled over and died instantly. Another was almost directly behind it though, and this time she wasn't as well prepared. She frantically started backstepping as fast as possible, knocking into a militia man and falling over. The gargoyle wasn't expecting this, however, and kept bounding right over top of her, landing it's blow on one of the militia men instead. She got up and nocked another arrow, firing it at the third gargoyle coming at her. Landing a solid shot in its left thigh, she sent the gargoyle off balance and crashing into a group of fleeing soldiers.

By this time the second gargoyle had drawn its spear out of the corpse and performed a 180 degree swing directly behind it, presumably where Aieris would be. She was. The spear shaft hit her hard in the upper chest, knocking the wind out of her and lifting her feet off the ground momentarily as she was sent flying six feet away, landing it a muddy puddle.

Meanwhile, Durin, who now carried Gorn over his shoulder and continued running, was already making his way to the western forest. Amelia, Celeste, and the dwarf passed the southwestern wall corner of Gole and entered the open field before the forest. Most of the gargoyles were now in pursuit on foot, or trapped back in the town during the chaos, since their wing power had died out as quickly as the aerial strike had come.

Half of the surviving militia, Darren, Raenor, Elmric, Durin, Amelia, Celeste, and the collapsed Gorn made it to the outskirts of the Forest of Gole with little incident. Those who had first arrived bravely ambushed the three dozen trolls and several gargoyles and killed them as they entered the forest.

The rest of the surviving militia, its archers, and Aieris were the only ones remaining in Gole. The elementals cracked apart and became normal rock once more as the horde pushed through and reorganized their southern charge.

OOC: Long weekend, hiking, Appalachians. Sorry about all the missed carnage and roleplayingness.

You seem to have done fine without me but I'll try and catch up asap.

What was there to do, but lie in the mud and die like so many others, or get back up and continue the retreat.

The militia remaining in the town were no match for the gargoyles that were catching up, but she could do no good by herself, and perhaps could do some good if she stayed alive.

Aieris thought of this in the heartbeat she lay in the mud, as the gargoyle that had put her there advanced upon her. Her bow lay feet away, blessfully unbroken. But now there was a ten foot beast in between her and escape, and more coming from behind.

The gargoyle advanced on Aieris, a snarl blazen upon its face, and flecks of spittle dripping from its gaping maw. With one arm, it reached down and lifted the petite archer from the mud by her hair.

Lifting her head up level with its own, the gargoyle opened its mouth, and moved closer, as if preparing to tear out her throat with its teeth.

It was then that the black blade appeared inside the mouth of the beast. Clutching the pomel that now ran red with the beasts blood, she continued to thrust upwards with the now bloodstained blade, searching for the beasts brain.

Finally, the beast gave a shudder, and fell to the ground, a look of pain and horror fixed upon the beasts ugly maw.

"Stinking Venurian slime, now I have to clean my bloody dagger" Aieris swore as she wrenched the blade from the skull of the now limp beast, and ran to fetch her bow.

Noting the coming horde behind her, and the backs of the Militia now exiting the south gate, she decided this would be a good time to run.

And run she did.


OOC: i'm hoping that in the time she dealt with this gargoyle, the rest of the militia (those alive) would be out, or at least at, the gates. Just wondering - are there still gargoyles in the air persuing them?

Raenor looked around at the bleeding, wounded and exhausted men of the Gole militia who waited in the relative safety of the eaves of the Western Woods. Raenor, still feeling relatively fresh, decided to survey the situation around Gole. Readying his bow, he made for the treeline, keeping himself concealed as best he could behind knotted trunks, twisting roots, and leafy shrubs. Even as he arrived at the outskirts, he could see survivors continuing to pour out of Gole, alone, in pairs, in small groups. Some were running, some were limping, some were walking and some were being carried by their comrades. The Venurians were no doubt close behind.

Surveying the sky, it seemed that the gargoyles had gone to ground. This was a definite advantage for the militia, provided they acted now. Slipping away from his lookout, Raenor made his way back to the militia captains, who now knelt around the exhausted form of Gorn.

"We have very little time," Raenor looked at the group. "Companies and commands and plans I have little time for. For years I have made my home in the forest, and you must believe me when I say we need to go deeper into her heart before we are safe from the Venurians."

"I would ask why," Elmric said, raising a calming hand. "But I do not think that now is the best time for lengthy discussions of our survival strategy. What needs to be done?"

"We need a place of safety, and, for the moment, that place of safety is in the depths of these woods," came the reply.

"You mean the temple?" Elmric asked quizzically. "I can lead the men there."

"Well that certainly makes some things easier," Raenor answered after a moment's pause. "Very well...Elmric, take your men in the lead. I'll do what I can to conceal the trail. You shouldn't need to lead the men too far into the woods before it becomes difficult for the Venurians to pursue."

"What makes you so certain of that?" Darren asked. "They seem very determined to wipe us out."

"If you go far enough into the woods it becomes difficult for men to move easily," Raenor answered. "How much harder will it be for a seven-foot trolls and ten-foot gargoyles?" Raenor looked around at the assembling men, now joined by the last survivors from Gole, Aieris among them. "Move as quickly and quietly as you can, and help the wounded."

Durin made his way towards the forest with Gorn slung limply over his shoulder. Amelia and Celeste followed close behind, weighed down by the guilt of leaving so many who may be saved behind. There was simply no time to inspect the bodies for survivors, they had to leave and leave now. Durin spied a group of trolls between him and the forest and immediately gripped his axe firmly in his free hand. Oddly the enemies were facing away from Durin, which would fortunately give him the advantage of a quick and easy first strike. “They must be chasing the others,” he thought. As the dwarf closed the distance he noticed the brutes looked to have all tripped over something. Oh, it seems the militia had been long aware of their pursuers and prepared appropriately.

Durin spotted Raenor long before he could hear his words. By the time the dwarf had made it into earshot it seems Raenor had completed his speech. “So, what did I miss, lads?”

“Nothing I cannot inform you of on the move,” answered Raenor. “Come master dwarf, we make haste into the protective bosom of the forest.”

Durin scanned over the remaining militia. He was glad to see some familiar faces, but devastated by the lack of others. With this, the militia began its somber march to whatever shelter would have them.

Elmric led the remaining militia as quickly as he could through the forest, taking one of the more covered paths to the temple. Brair patches and brambles stung the legs and arms of his men, but they marched on, confident in their leader. The sun was low in the sky when Elmric and his ragged band reached the temple, resting on the steps while waiting for the rest of the men.

"We survived...that, in itself, is a great service to Avelia." Elmric solemnly said after tucking his head into his hands, grieving over the loss of his home, and of his well trained battle horse, Shadowbane.

"I should've gotten the horse...but I have a feeling a troll would have just clipped him out from under me, and killed me if I had..so in a way, it's better that I didn't get Shadowbane..though I will still miss him greatly."