Turn 112

Having satisfied his curiosity about the General, at least in part, Lynden decides that to delve deeper would only bring more distress to one who had suffered great loss whatever the causes thereof. The wizard's easy acceptance into the King's confidences was more surprising but given their own experience perhaps merely evidence of the King's generosity of spirit.
    Pham is not so certain, and resolves to watch carefully, unhappy about the suspicious role he must now play, but more worried about what havoc the hidden cult might wreak.

    * * *

     And he does. "Gond being...?"
    "Gond is my god, the lord of craftsmen," Emmett pulls out his holy symbol from under this many layers, "And he loves seeing skilled work as well as invention. I take it then that your people have never been visited by him?"
    "I'm afraid not, but do tell me about him?" In the course of the discussion Emmett expounds cheerfully on one of his favorite topics, and learns something of the local dwarves' religion as well. It is a typically industrious pantheon they follow here and larger than many, with specialist deities overseeing many areas of dwarven life. He paints a very innocuous picture of quiet gods of craft and hearth.

    * * *

    His Majesty's second attempt is more successful, inflicting another bloody gash on the thing--small on its bulk, but enough such stings and the creature must fall. Ibn Fadil's second spear misses and it looks as if the beasts is going to attempt a charge to break free.
    In the face of its rush, many of the horses become frightened, and in the tumult two men are thrown and trampled beneath the mastodon's enormous feet as they churn the snow. Like the others, Ibn Fadil must spend all his attention on his mount.
    The size of the beast was impressive as was the bravado shown by those attempting to bring it down. Weighing up the odds Lynden decides that he is likely to be more of a hindrance than a help in direct combat and so moves to stand beside Yestin, keeping out of range for the time being.
    The giff looses his massive crossbow again, this time to better effect as the bolt strikes its target, but inflicts only a scratch on the maddened beast as it rushes past.
    "After it!" the cry goes up. There is a hasty conference between the king and the high priest on which route is best to try and cut off the creature's retreat, and soon the hunters are thundering after it, the fastest riders going on ahead to try and turn it back.

    * * *

    The spider with half its legs missing promptly disappears, its interest in the fight understandably diminished. The second is lightly singed by a fireball but does not appear nearly as fazed by this, springing onto one of the now-riderless horses, which screams pathetically and thrashes as the fangs bite deeply. Ziven is still busy seeing to the wounded men.
    "Nobody bloody listens," the half man mutters, keeping his defensive position. "You let them come to you. So much for that..." The creatures can obviously turn invisible or move magically, but they don't react instantly, so waiting is the name of the game. Emmett seizes his chance and spurs his horse in hopes it will obey him and charge. Which it does, and the spear sinks into the spider's massive body. It leaps back with a hiss, bloody fangs gleaming gruesomely as its forelegs splay defensively. And then it's gone. For the moment.
    

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