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The group hurry onwards, pushing themselves into a forced march as they hurry down the pitch black trail back towards the temple, their light illuminating the forest around them and making them feel like they are marching down a tunnel of the underdark. The trail twists and turns, sometimes double backing on itself - to great consternation of all - especially when, nearly an hour later, the next wolf howl is heard again over the sound of their own footsteps. Redoubling their efforts, with the two dwarves nearly jogging to keep up, the group pound their way through the darkness, the intermittant sound of wolf calls sounding, sometimes behind them, sometimes to one side or the other as the trail meanders its way through the woods - always seeming to get slowly closer.

The night seems to drag on for ever, reminding some of the party members of when they had fled from the hunting horns of the Sky Ponie barbarians through the fog, just before they stumbled upon the cave entrance of Kheizar Dalan.

Finally, some three hours after they had hurridly broken camp, the trees open up ahead of them, and the stone wall of the ancient temple to Aerdrie Faenya looms into view. Off to their right - the sound of wolves comes again, and, slightly further away, again from the south...

"At last!" mutters Larz.

After a very brief discussion on tactics, the group quickly start to prepare themselves. As Merrell and Vaslin climb up the ivy onto the roof to act as look-outs, Blondung finishes getting the small barrel of oil from Soupy, and starts splashing it around the entrance. Yvandel meanwhile fishes out some string, and starts tying it to a torch. Dorn manages to find some of the rubbish and bracken that had been originally used by the ettins for their bedding, dragging it with Ceely into the middle of the main hall.

Meanwhile Herod busies himself setting up lanterns. He places one just inside the entrance on each side, illuminating a fair amount of the area just outside the entrance as well as almost all the inside, boosting the light provided by Lucretia's light coin, perched on top of the rubble below the hole in the roof. Another lantern he places in the north-eastern room, illuminating the area where the horses were located. The last normal lantern, he places on the alter at the back of the temple, throwing it's light forward.

Meanwhile, up on the roof, Merrell and Vaslin lie down next to the roof ridge, keeping an eye out and listening to some of the chatter below as the others finalise their preparations. Howls come from the woods to the north and east, and they strain their eyes to see anything beyond the slightly blacker silhouette outlining the tree-line. As the lanterns get lit, light starts to spill out from the windows of the building, faintly illuminating the trees, but still leaving the land around the temple in deep shadows. A closer howl draws their attention, as well as that of those inside the temple. A flicker of movement is seen at the edge of the woods - shadows moving on shadows. It's difficult to see clearly at this range, but several figures seem to be moving up towards the temple. Another flicker of movement catches Vaslin's eye, and she nudges Merrell, pointing in the direction of the lake. Merrell squints into the darkness trying to see what she'd spotted. Light, streaming from the front of the temple, occasionally reflects from something moving - more figures - or perhaps some of the same ones, circling wide around the temple's front... keeping clear of the light.

Another one howls, and this time, they catch the glint of light off an opened mouth, glistening teeth as what sounds like a wolf howls again. Close to that is another glint - this time from something more metallic looking.

Down below, Yvandel, nervously lights the torch he's tied to the twine, and then throws it across the oil so that it lands on the flat area in front of the temple.

Lucretia, with his enchanted short sword in hand, is already standing at the back wall, in the doorway to the north-eastern room where he can keep an eye on the horses as well as the main hall.

Ceely and Dorn, having just managed to get a small bonfire lit after all, in the gap between the altar and the large pile of rubble from the collapsed hole in the roof, look up at this closest howl, and draw their respective weapons. Blondung, still carrying the now empty barrel, starts to hurry back around the north side of the pile of rubble.

Cleo and Larz, having been standing close by, keeping watch, hang back, waiting for Yvandel as he too hurries back, unwinding the string behind him...

Milo, just finishes digging out his wolfsbane from his pack, now dumped with everyone's packs close to the horses.

ROUND ONE

Yvandel hurries backwards, the string trailing behind him. As he hears the howl, he pauses, snakes his right hand into one of his many pockets, and a moment later pulls out what looks suspiciously like a dead slug. Cocking his arm back, he hurls the slug towards the entrance, invoking a spell as he does so with a loud, somewhat garbled sounding shout. The slug disappears only a few feet after it leaves his hand, and from outside, there is a sudden shout of anger as well as a growl. A smile starts to form on his face, as Yvandel realises his spell seems to have had an effect.

A moment later however, there is the unmistakable sound of a crossbow firing somewhere out in the darkness, and a fraction of a second later, a crossbow bolt streaks between the pillars into the temple, slamming into Yvandel's chest and spinning him around (OOC: OUCH! Critical hit - 12 hp damage! Now on 3/15). The young illusionist staggers backwards, barely keeping to his feet. Up at the front of the temple, the torch suddenly jerks forward a foot or two as he accidentally pulled on the line.

"Geddown!" yells Larz, running towards Yvandel. Another pair of crossbow bolts comes screaming into the hall, one obviously aimed at Blondung, ricocheting off the pile of rubble just as he managed to duck behind it, a fleck of stone stinging his cheek.. The other is aimed at Larz, actually clipping his armour with a loud ringing noise before cracking into the wall behind Lucretia.

Outside, a powerful voice rings out, yelling "Raygan! Hold dammit!" but whoever it was directed at seems to ignore the command, and Merrell and Vaslin watching on the roof see a creature detach itself from the surrounding darkness, rushing forward towards the temple entrance. At first glance, it looks like a wolf - but its front legs are more like arms, long and gangly, almost like troll's. It's face is distinctly wolf-like however, and there is no doubt in those viewing it that this is a werewolf. Half-man, half wolf - a creature from children's nightmares.

Within seconds, it vanishes from their field of view as it bounds into the temple beneath them. Those inside the temple hear and see its approach as it launches itself through the front pillars.

Yvandel, his face contorted with pain, yanks on the string, jerking the spluttering torch into the oil even as maddened werewolf runs past the flaring torch. The flames spread quickly across the oil, but not fast enough to catch the werewolf, as it continues its focused path towards Yvandel. Larz, clutching his axe in his left hand and his holy symbol in his right, his shield dangling loose on his arm, turns at the noise of the werewolf, his eyes widening. He looks back, seeing Ceely and his cousin Dorn charging forward to help, and from behind him, he hears Cleo also moving to intercept the beast. He hurries forward, pulling Yvandel down in front of him as he calls upon Clangeddin to help his injured friend. (OOC: 7 back, now on 10/15).

Further back, Herod hurries forward a few paces, a prayer upon his lips, instinctively imploring Tempus to assist the battle. In his hand, the ruby chess piece suddenly forgotten as his years of service to Tempus override his more strategic thoughts. Even as he utters Tempus's name, he blinks, seeing a ghostly horse canter silently across the entrance of the temple from left to right. The horse was majestic and powerful, and even as it disappears, he was convinced that he had just seen Veiros, one of Tempus's two horses that he rides to battle on! (OOC: Note - nobody else sees this.) The magic of his prayer spell expands in a silent wave across the battlefield, and all his allies suddenly feel encouraged by it. (OOC: +1 to Attack/Damage/Saving throws for the party, -1 for the enemy!)

Cleo is the first to intercept the charging werewolf, coming at it from the side as it speeds faster than she could believe possible across the temple floor. She slashes her heavy enchanted broad sword at it, the blade drawing a red line down its flank, and making it stumble slightly, as it virtually flies past her, having eyes only for Yvandel.

Dorn and Ceely, seeing the charging werewolf also launch themselves forward, rushing past Blondung, the ex-Zhent keeping his head down, fearing further cross-bow bolts. Ceely passes Yvandel almost at the same time Larz casts his healing prayer; Dorn with his shorter legs pumping hard a few paces behind her. Putting herself firmly in the path of the charging werewolf, Ceely wishes for the umpteenth time that she still had her harpoon. Praying the magical oil she'd applied to her short sword would have mean that her weapon would actually harm the beast, she braces for the impact of the wolf-man, as he leaps towards her, the main obstacle in its path. Thrusting her sword forward, the oiled blade slips deeply into its chest, and its attack falters. Its momentum is enough to force Ceely back several feet however. Dorn, having caught up, swings his axe somewhat wildly, catching only air. The werewolf, its own blood frothing at its mouth, grabs at Ceely with its hands, trying to pull her close, its jaws snapping just short of her neck.

Meanwhile, out of sight of all this, Luc finishes untying the drow woman, who moans slightly as he starts to lift her off Thunderbolt's saddle. Milo, having reached the doorway sees the new arrival, watching in horror as he sees the maddened werewolf grappling with Ceely. Seeing its bloody jaws, his heart leaps to his mouth as he thinks for a second that it had bitten Ceely.

Up above, Merrell scrambles forward along the shallow roof ridge, bringing himself a little closer to the front edge of the temple. Peering out into the darkness, he draws upon the power of the mask, inhaling deeply then opening his jaw impossibly wide to roar, aiming the cone of sound into the darkness, unsure if the blast of sound would be strong enough to actually damage the enemy, but sure that if nothing else, it would rattle them! (OOC: If you check the spell description on the "Roar Of Nobanion" - which is the same as the 4th level Shout spell, you'll see that it actually only has an area of effect of 10x30' cone!)

Vaslin, crawling up the roof ridge behind Merrell, murmurs a spell as well, calling on Tymora's power, her voice lost in the noise of Merrell's roar. As she finishes the spell, light suddenly blossoms down by the edge of the lake, illuminating a mixed group of men and werewolves, spread out in a line (8 men [#2,#3,#5,#7,#8,#0,#A,#B], 5 wolf-men [#4,#6,#9,#C,#D]). A couple of the men are naked and unarmed [#A,#B], but the other 6 have tattered clothing and weapons. Five of them crossbows [#2,#3,#5,#7,#8], three of which [#2,#3,#5] are in the process of re-loading them as the world suddenly becomes bright around them. All of them look somewhat startled by the roar and the sudden light.

Within moments this view of the enemy becomes partially obscured however - by the flames and smoke leaping up from the now flaming pool of oil. Smoke billows out from the front entrance of the temple and inside, up into its angled roof. Herod is suddenly pleased that nobody took up his idea to sit on one of the roof beams after all as they would soon have been smoked out!

ROUND TWO

Now illuminated, several of the enemy start to scatter to the darkness, even as another of them (#B) yells commandingly for them to get out of the light.

Having tagged the leader, Merrell grins to himself, shuffling quickly forward to the front edge of the roof and starting to cast a quick spell. A jet of flame leaps out from his outstretched finger, aiming towards the man who had spoken (#B). The man is ONLY just inside the range of the spell, and cries out in pain as the flame engulfs him.

Merrell hears a quiet cry of alarm from behind him as Vaslin realises what he was doing, and glances behind him to see her shuffling deeper into the shadows further back along the roof ridge.

Down below, one of the crossbow wielders (#8), who had starting to move northward into the darkness, sees Merrell, now clearly illuminated by the fire coming from his finger, and immediately raises his crossbow, aiming up at him. The distinctive thwack sounds of discharging crossbows also comes from the south, the north, and even a few of those still in the light pause in their movement to take aim at this obvious threat.

Merrell, flame still erupting from his finger in an angle downwards towards the Malarite's leader, tries to hunker down to make himself less of a target, but cannot avoid all of the bolts, and is hit five times (OOC: 14 hp damage in total - lucky it wasn't a lot more!, now on 5/19). (OOC: Not your best choice of spell for the circumstances Mike).

Inside the temple, Blondung, hunkering down behind the cover of the pile of rubble, pulls out a scroll, and prepares to read it. Close by, Yvandel fumbles a potion out, the gruff dwarven priest of battle nods approvingly. "Brace yerself, this is gonna hurt!" he mutters, taking hold of the crossbow bolt and carefully pulling it out. The semi-healed skin around the bolt breaks, blood again gushing out as Yvandel cries out in agony (2hp damage, now on 8/15). "Drink yer potion now" Larz advises. As Yvandel glugs it back, the agony fades and his injuries miraculously heal, leaving him whole again.

Meanwhile, a short way behind Larz, the battle with the werewolf continues. Still trying to get at Yvandel, the crazed taunted werewolf grapples with Ceely, biting her arm (OOC: 6hp damage, now on 27/33).

Dorn, recovering from his miss, sweeps his now brightly lit battleaxe in a wide swing at the werewolves' back, the blade striking true and cutting deep into its shoulder. The creature stumbles, its grip on Ceely loosening, and the fire goes out of its eyes. Ceely and Cleo both hack at it with their own swords, Ceely taking her own advice and sweeping her short sword in a vicious blow at the creatures neck. The blade cuts deep, almost severing the beast's neck, and it spins around, collapsing to the ground, clearly dead.

Herod, finishing his spell from his partial cover behind the pile of rubble, peers out through the smoke to try to see any opponents outside. Catching a glimpse of a crossbow wielder aiming up at the roof, (#3), he hurls a war hammer towards him, the hammer disappearing before it travels more than a few feet. A hammer shaped glowing field of force materialises out in front of the crossbow wielder, smacking it.

To his right, Blondung, now finished reading his scroll, looks up with alarm and points to the collapsed corner of the building. "More of them!" he yells.

Lucretia, having appeared at the door into the main part of the temple, had only taken a few steps towards that werewolf before it is downed by Ceely, Cleo and Dorn, and at Blondung's yell, turns, seeing the new threat from the south. Changing direction, he moving in that direction to defend against the new attackers.

As the werewolves scramble across the rubble and through the broken wreckage of that corner of the building, Herod and Lucretia can see that they are all in the transformed state. There are at least three of them... (#I,#J,#K)

(OOC: They'll be across the rubble by next round)

Outside, the human leader (#B), runs away from the flame, some of his clothes still burning as he gets out of range of the spell. Running directly towards the lake, he plunges into the water at the edge, dousing the flames. Bursting from the water, he yells out loudly, in an angry voice. "Get them! Kill them all!"

ROUND THREE

From all around the temple it seems, comes the howling of werewolves, half-human cries, almost sounding like people in pain. The werewolf leader, still standing in the water's edge suddenly contorts, ripping his clothes off as he begins to change.

Merrell, his right arm still outstretched toward the werewolf with a jet of flame erupting from his index finger, watches, captivated by the vivid image of the transformation almost as much as by the magic of his spell as it runs its course. Almost unable to tear his eyes away from the werewolf leader, Merrell glances around the lit area in front of the temple, spotting three of the crossbow bolt wielders (#2,#5,#7) in the process of recocking their crossbows. The fourth (#3) was being harried by a glowing magical hammer-shaped force that , Merrell recognised the clerical spell that Herod so much liked using. From behind, he could hear running footsteps on the roof, and he rolls, to look around, seeing Vaslin arriving. "COME ON!" she yells, grabbing him and half-dragging him away from the edge of the roof. Stumbling, he followed, his right arm sticking out behind him, the flame still jetting towards the werewolf. Glancing back, he sees that the transformation is almost complete, and he frowns, realising that this werewolf looked different, bigger, and if anything, less wolf-like.

There is the twang of a pair of crossbows one from the darkness to the south, and another from one standing in the light (#5). The bolts scream through the air, one just missing Vaslin, the other almost parting Merrell's hair. At that moment, Merrell's spell finally finishes, and he and Vaslin are plunged into sudden darkness. There is the twang of further crossbows firing, even as Vaslin continues to drag Merrell back along the roof ridge, towards the hole where smoke and light are coming from the temple below. None of these other bolts strike the pair, though they hear them hiss through the air around them.

Meanwhile inside the temple, Milo passes a small seed pod to Ceely, who obliges by popping it in her mouth and starting to chew. It cracks in her mouth, releasing a bitter powder that tingles on her tongue. At their feet, the body of the werewolf shudders and contorts briefly, shrinking to that of a dirty naked human man, his hair unkempt and his face unshaven.

At the rear of the temple, the three werewolves who had been creeping across the rubble, now scramble more quickly instead, causing bits of broken stone to tumble and clatter as they give up all pretence of stealth and launch themselves towards their quarry instead.

Cleo and Dorn, also race around the rubble to back up their companions, trying to get there in time to protect Herod - the cleric still concentrating on his spiritual hammer.

Lucretia, wishing he had his preferred bastard sword in his hand, steps forward to meet the first (#K) as it clears the rubble. It comes faster than he anticipated, and before he can bring the enchanted blade to bear, the beast slams into him, knocking him backwards and off balance, its jaws snapping at his collarbone. (OOC: Not a good start - it rolled a critical hit - 10 hp damage, now on 42/52). In pain, Lucretia tries to defend himself, but, disorientated by the sudden strike, clubs at the werewolf's side with the flat of the blade, and ends up twisting it out of his own hand. With a clang, the enchanted blade drops to the ground. (OOC: Even worse start! - Luc fumbles and then fails a dex roll)

A few paces behind, the second werewolf (#I) breaks out of the ruined part of the temple, and leaps towards Cleo, the barbarian lass running up with broadsword in hand. Sidestepping, she avoids the snarling beast, and chops at it with the short heavy blade. She misjudges its speed however, and her blade cuts only air as it skids past her and reorients itself. (OOC: Damn you lot are rolling bad - that was a 2! ).

The third (#J) emerges a moment later, and starts towards Herod, who is focused on the front. Dorn however manages to get in the way first, and the werewolf leaps atop the dwarf instead, its jaws clamping down on his left arm, its teeth poking through the elbow joint in his plate mail to crush and tear his flesh (OOC:5hp damage, now on 42/47). With a grunt of pain, Dorn hammers his enchanted battleaxe into the werewolf's, knocking it free of him and opening up a bloody wound in its side. From behind him, he can hear Blondung's voice, and suddenly there is a blinding flash of light, a crack of thunder and the smell of ozone in the air. The bolt streaks past Dorn, slamming into the creature. It convulses, jerking backwards several feet, before crashing into the rubble and lying still.

Larz, looking up from Yvandel, glances around the battlefield, and hurries towards the rear wall, intending to keep an eye on the room where the horses were. As he hurries, he casts a spell on himself. Yvandel, no longer suffering from the horrendous injury he had endured, rises and also casts a spell, moving towards Lucretia and the others as he does. Suddenly, he blurs and then seems to split into six, each of them moving independently.

Up on the roof, Vaslin and Merrell can hear the sounds of movement from the southern side of the temple, the rustling of leaves and the creak of vegetation. Sounds like others climbing the ivy...

ROUND FOUR

Lucretia twists himself out from under the werewolf (#K), lunging for his dropped short sword, the pain from the bite masked by the rush of adrenaline. His heart pumping hard, his hand closes around the hilt, and he rolls, slashing wildly with the short sword at the slathering beast looming over him. The blade cuts deeply, knocking it sideways and giving him a momentary breather. Scrambling to his feet, he eyes the werewolf as it clutches a long fingered hand to a bloody wound in its side, crabbing sideways for a moment before it leaps again. Batting aside Lucretia's short sword, it grapples with him, again biting him, this time on his upper arm, chainmail links popping under the pressure of its jaws, (OOC: 5hp damage, now on 37/52).

With a yell, Dorn appears at Lucretia's side, smacking the creature with his axe, knocking the werewolf back. Lucretia, slightly off balance from the attack, watches as Dorn follows it up with a second short chop, driving it to its knees, two bloody gashes opened up across its ribs. It growls, spitting blood, its eyes bright as it gathers itself to spring again, though it is clear that it wouldn't survive another such hit.

Meanwhile, a few paces away, Cleo is dealing with her own werewolf problems. She and the beast (#J) circle each other for a moment, before she leaps forward, chopping at it with the heavy broadsword. It tries to dodge, but the heavy blade cuts deep into its shoulder, staggering it. Snarling, with one arm hanging loose, it seems to stagger further, and Cleo steps in to finish it off. It was only feigning however, and at the last moment, lunges forward towards her throat instead.

At that moment, Cleo spots a vortex of air swirling into being behind it, a minor air elemental summoned by the power of Tempus through Herod. Battered by the air elemental, the werewolf is slowed slightly, and Cleo manages to get her left arm in the way instead of her throat, the beast's teeth bruising her arm through her chainmail sleeve (OOC: 3hp damage, now on 39/42), even as she slashes her sword across its neck, jerking its head up with her trapped arm. Blood bubbles out of its throat and she leaps backwards, pulling her arm free from its suddenly slack jaw as it staggers past her, choking on its own blood to crash against the altar, sliding down the unadorned stone and smearing it with its blood. Her foe vanquished, Cleo spins around to see what other horrors were coming into the temple.

Close by are six Yvandels, five of them no doubt illusionary. Blurred and swirling amongst themselves, moments earlier they had all lifted and slammed their staff into the ground, making the area around the bonfire suddenly very much more crowded, as each of them appears to be holding the chains to four snarling vermen (making 24 vermen in total!). Luckily, it was an illusion Cleo had seen before, though not in this multiplied form, and she was not phased by it.

(OOC: The illusion is pre-programmed into the staff - and is for four chained snarling vermen, straining at the leash that Yvandel holds. That's all it does)

Yvandel speaks, welcoming his four illusionary nether hounds by name, glad that the magic of the earlier spell was helping mask the small details of the illusion. Anyone with any intelligence would know that only one of the Yvandel's was real, but they'd have a harder time in judging if the four vermen with him were real or not, the blurring of the mirror image spell making them all look equally possible. Looking around, he sees that Lucretia and Dorn seemed have their werewolf under control, the beast somewhat startled, realising it was vastly outnumbered all of a sudden, and the mage glances at Cleo in time to see her and Herod's air elemental finish her opponent.

In the wider section of the temple however, he is alarmed to see more werewolves inside the temple. Presumably having climbed in through the windows in the north wall, a pair of snarling werewolves had just appeared at the opening to the north room, hanging back in confusion at the crowd of men, women, dwarves and vermen now occupying the rear half of the temple.

Blondung, his face grimacing at the milling confusion of blurry Yvandels and leashed vermen, also sees the two new werewolves. Taking advantage of their momentary confusion, he again blurts the words of a spell, and a second flash of lightning crashes across the temple, this time catching both of the beasts and flinging them back into the darkness of the northern room, where their twitching bodies are swallowed by the shadows following the brightness of the lightning. The thunderclap echoes loudly between the stone temple walls, easily heard and felt by those above as a shockwave through the stone.

Meanwhile, up on the roof, Vaslin grips Merrell's arm tightly, gesturing towards a shadow, bulging up against the edge of the roof. Because of Vaslin's light spell plus his own recently expired flame spell, Merrell's night vision was shot, but he still caught the glint of reflected light and movement as a werewolf started to climb onto the roof. "Let me help you" she says, murmuring a hurried prayer of healing, even as Merrell begins to cast his own spell, ignoring the sticky warmth of his own blood damping his robes. Aiming at the shadow bulk against the edge of the roof, he finishes his spell, and a pea sized fiery pellet issues from the end of his outstretched finger. Just past the edge of the roof, it suddenly bloomed into a large fireball, making Merrell squint against the sudden light and wash of heat. The figure that had just climbed onto the roof could be seen silhouetted for a moment before the flames engulfed him. As the flare of fire dies, a mushroom cloud of smoke slowly billows into the night air, fuelled by the vegetation close to the temple wall that had also ignited, its light now somewhat illuminating the roof itself. The burning figure, thrashing on the stone roof, rolls off the edge and disappears from sight, the thud as it hits the ground barely audible over the other noises. Vaslin, flinching from the sudden heat, finishes her own spell of healing, and Merrell feels a different sort of warmth spread through him, as the worst of his injuries close over (OOC: 8 back, now on 13/19). Another pair of crossbow bolts buzz through the air near Vaslin and Merrell, making them duck, but nothing hits either of them.

Ceely, retreating with Milo to behind the large pile of rubble in the middle of the temple, keeps an eye out for further enemies. At the front of the temple, the pool of oil is still burning hotly, though as she peers through the smoke and flames, she sees a figure running hard towards them. Even as the flash and boom of thunder from Blondung's second lightning bolt semi-blinds and deafens her she sees a new creature leap through the fire. He is larger than the other werewolves she's seen, with large tusks and a broad powerful back and arms - in fact, she realises that the beast is less wolf - and more part boar instead. Its fur steams slightly, looking wet, and it continues its charge, looking as if to come around the south side of the rubble.

At the very rear of the temple, Larz had reached the doorway through to where the horses are located, glancing through to see all was safe. At the crash of Blondung's lightning bolt, and the dull whompf of Merrell's fireball he turns back, watching the battle, battleaxe in hand. Glances back into the north room, he calls in alarm. "More coming in the windows in here!" he yells, gesturing with his axe. He turns to face them, setting himself in the doorway like a rock.

ROUND FIVE (the battle from the were's perspective)

The injured werewolf (#K) glanced around, seeing himself surrounded by enemies. To his right, was a blurry human mage (Yvandel) with four blurry beasts slathering on the end of a chain, beyond them the fire and more of the same, though strangely none of the beasts had any smell, and something within him told him something was wrong about them. What it was, he didn't have time to find out however, as behind him he could hear the human female (Cleo) had just killed his companion, and in front of him were two warriors, one a hulking human male still scrambling to his feet (Lucretia), the other a well armoured dwarf (Dorn). The two cuts along his ribs burned like fire, and he could feel the warmth of his own blood matting his fur, even over the burning of the moon cursed blood in his veins. Where were his companions? the human rational part of his brain asked himself. The plan was falling apart, they were all supposed to storm in together! Knowing his death was probably upon him, he gathered himself, and snarling a incomprehensible curse, leapt again at the burly warrior he'd already injured. Perhaps, if Malar were willing he could take one of them with him! His wish was in vain however, as his target (Lucretia) anticipated his leap, managing to dodge aside. Skidding to a halt, he spun around, and now found his way blocked by the dwarf. Leaping again, he felt a massive thump to his chest and was suddenly knocked flat onto his back, giving him a view up towards the hole in the ceiling. Two figures, standing at the edge of the hole looked in, one readying some rope, the other pausing, and looking behind him. The hole seemed to constrict and for a moment he was puzzled, as the lights dimmed, a distant tinkling of broken glass as a lantern was knocked over. Then he knew no more. (OOC: Woohoo Critical from Dorn!) OOC: The lantern on the altar was just knocked over by Herod's dust devil spell...

Meanwhile, the wereboar and leader of the werewolf pack didn't slow his charge from the front of the temple. The blast of fire he'd seen off to the right of the building was all too recognisable as a fireball, and the flash and thunderclaps he'd heard were obviously lightning bolts. There were mages that needed killing he thought to himself angrily. His lips curled around his tusks as he saw the the mass of blurred confusing figures clustered around the fire and he knew again that magic was at work. . Ahead of him, a tall rotund man with a long pole (Milo) and a lithe half-elf woman with a bloody short sword (Ceely) were coming around the rubble as if to intercept him. Changing his angle, he leaped up the pile of rubble, bounding up and over the broken stone towards the mage who had cast the lightning bolt. The human mage (Blondung) appeared startled as he leapt upon him, the mage staggering backwards to try and escape, raising a bone wand in his right hand. Knocking the wand aside, the wereboar grabbed at the puny mage, slamming his head forward to gore him. Fire burst up around the wizard, even as the wereboar felt his tusks rip through cloth and flesh. Roaring in pain, he jerked the wizard aside to his left, simultaneously rip[ping his tusks free to the right as he turned to face the large man with the pole (Milo). Two others also seemed to be converging on him - the half-elven woman (Ceely) and a large warrior (Lucretia). (OOC: Bad news for Blondung, critical hit 24 damage! Now on 2/26).

From behind him, he heard the mage gasp "Nagasz hratblar", and instinctively ducked. A massive bolt of lightning slammed into his shoulder and he staggered, his back arching with muscles in spasm. The bolt continued on its path, bouncing off the stone ceiling before scorching the ground close to the southern edge of the large pile of rubble. Staggering over the uneven edge of the pile of rubble, he forced his eyes open in time to see the female half-elf (Ceely) slash at him with her shortsword. He grunted in pain, then brushed away the clawed end of the big man's long pole (Milo). The other large warrior (Lucretia) arrived at a run, the man's short sword whistling through the air as the wereboar ducked.

*

In the north-eastern room, the werewolf climbing through the window (#0) realised that the dwarf in the doorway (Larz) had spotted him, as the dwarven priest had started to cast some form of spell. He glanced around the rest of the room, seeing a horse and a pack pony as well as the drow unconscious on the floor. Raising his head, he howled loudly, before leaping from the wall. Even as he leaped, the wall seemed to explode beneath him, sharp shards of stone slicing his legs and belly. Thrown off balance by the sudden explosion, he only managed to get his feet under himself as he landed, and with a growl, launched himself at the dwarf, who was now advancing towards him. Easily overbearing his smaller opponent, the werewolf knocked the dwarf to the ground, clawing his hammer wide and snarling, his jaws snapping in front of his face. At the doorway, another human appeared, a woman (Cleo), who charged across the room, her broadsword leading. Confident in his supernatural abilities to avoid normal damage, he ignored her, regretting it as her sword cut a fiery line across his back.

*

Outside of the temple, one of the crossbow wielding men (#3) glances at his companion (#2) and then back at the temple as he pulls hard on his crossbow, recocking it even as he continued to walk away from the lit area and further into the shadows. The flames from the forest beyond cast the roof into harsh profile, and the two figures still on it were clearly visible against the fire's glow. His eyes flicked at the silhouettes disappearing in through the northern windows, and he smiled grimly as he took aim at the figures on the roof again. One of them seemed to be uncoiling some rope, even as the other was making sweeping arm motions and gestures that looked a little like spell casting. He pulled the trigger, the crossbow shuddering in his hand as the bolt flew towards its target. He scowled as the distant figure merely flinched, but didn't stop his spell casting. Another thwack sounded to his side, and his companion cursed as he too missed.

A howl came from one of their transformed companions, and he grinned at his companion in the darkness for a moment. "They've found the drow!" he said, seeming to understand the message contained within that howl. Looking back to those on the roof, he saw a speck of light leave the spell caster's hands, heading in their general direction, and he cursed, realising what what was coming their way. "Run!" he yelled, dropping his crossbow in his haste. A moment later the night was filled with flame, and he hurled himself to the ground, As they died away, he rolled over, extinguishing the lingering flames that had virtually burnt his clothes off him. His companion lay still nearby, smouldering, a few remaining flames still licking at the man's clothes and the grass all around.

*

Meanwhile, two other werewolves looked along the southern wall of the temple and growled - the flaming ivy and nearby trees, ignited by the recent fireball didn't look like a good way into the temple. Running along the front of the temple, they raced across the entrance, one following the other, glancing sideways to see the battle within. The flaming oil still burned, and they could feel its heat. Through the shimmering air they could see a mass of people inside at the rear - the flash of lightning and accompanying crash of thunder told of more magic being wielded too - and not from their side. They hurried on.

*

In the southern 'room' of the cursed temple, another werewolf (#E) rose from the ground, where he had been thrown by the blast of fire that had come out of nowhere. His fur still smoking, he snarled and shook his head to clear it. His red eyes narrowed as he looked at his companions and saw two others rising (#A & #D), also badly burnt. Snarling to them, he gestured for them to follow him, and then, as a group, they moved into the main temple, moving more cautiously as they tried to assimilate the scene before them. Their leader was being attacked!

*

In the northern 'room' of the temple, the two werewolves that had been struck by the lightning bolt from the human mage were getting to their feet again, their legs trembling (#9 & #6). A third werewolf (#7) snarled at them as he dropped to the floor from the window, commanding them to join him and another (#4), as the four of them ran into the main part of the temple.

Looking up to the hole in the roof, all of them could see a woman floating gently down, with rope in hand, which she was attempting to throw over one of the roof-supporting stone cross-struts. A lone human with axe in hand seemed to be jogging towards the northern side of the rubble pile...

ROUND SIX

Calling on the power of Clangeddin, Larz blurts out a single word at the werewolf looming above him. "Fall!" The werewolf seems to stiffen for a moment, then literally falls - on top of the dwarf! Larz finds himself looking into the blood red eyes of the beast mere inches away from his face, its reeking breath hot on his cheek and its body trembling as it tries to fight the magic that was forcing it to Larz's will. Larz suddenly wonders if commanding it to fall whilst he was basically under it was such a good idea after all, but Cleo needs no invitation, and hammers her enchanted broad sword down into it, taking advantage of its sudden stillness to hammer her blade into the beast. It shudders as her heavy blade cuts into its back, and for a moment, Larz, under the beast hopes Cleo doesn't cut right through it! Lifting her blade again, she strikes again, and Larz, struggling to extract himself, is momentarily knocked back flat again as the blow is transmitted through the werewolf's body. Blood sprays from the creature's mouth as the force of Cleo's strike literally knocks the air from it, and it seems to glare its hatred for Larz, even as its body goes limp.

***

Meanwhile, in the main part of the temple, the battle continues to rage. The werewolf re-enforcements stream forward, rushing the group. Herod, approaching Blondung with intentions of healing him, sees the bloodied mage wave him away with a potion bottle in his left hand, his eyes looking towards the rushing werewolves in horror as he turns to run, fumbling to unstopper the potion as he stumbles off.

Herod, also backs off, intending to help cover Blondung's retreat, Gripping the unfamiliar Goblin's Bane mace tightly in his hands he realises his palms are sweaty, this being his first time he's ever used it in anger. Remembering the summoned dust devil that was spinning out of control at the back of the temple, he commands it to intercept the werewolves rushing so fast towards him. Too slow he lifts the mace, as two of the beasts (#6 & #7) tackle him, attempting to knock him over. He staggers backwards, but manages to keep his feet under him. Swinging the mace somewhat wildly, he just clips one of the werewolves (#6), making it snarl with pain and raising a bloody welt on its head. To either side, he becomes aware of swirling figures, as Yvandel and his multiple images blur, swirl then solidify nearby. One of the other werewolves (#4), chasing after Blondung staggers as it stumbles through the image of a couple of Vermen, snarling in frustration as it realises they aren't solid.

Yvandel, his real movement around the battlefield masked by the illusionary magic, gulps in fear as he realises that the snarling werewolf had come within inches of him, passing through the original images of the Vermen directly in front of him.

The fourth werewolf (#9) in this group remains focused on the fleeing Blondung. As the mage, now chugging his potion, blunders completely through one of the illusionary Yvandel's and its four Vermen, the werewolf dodges after it, intent on catching the mage who had hurt it badly with and ignoring everything else in its quest. Even as Blondung's wounds were magically sealing over, the potion of extra healing doing its work, the beast leaps upon him. Spinning around at the last moment, Blondung tries to fend it off, staggering backwards the werewolf's jaws snapping at him and ripping his robes at his shoulder.

On the southern side of the temple, Dorn watches in fascination for a moment as the werewolf he had just killed (#K) transforms before his eyes into a human woman, her naked body defaced by massive wounds in her body. Looking up from his kill he sees three new werewolves - all of them looking somewhat burnt, bounding towards the group battling at the edge of the rubble. He raises his axe as if to throw it, but realises he is already too slow, as the southern most (#A) jinks towards him. It seems particularly enraged as it sees the dead woman at Dorn's feet, and hurls itself at him, brushing away Dorn's attempt to bring the axe to bear and forcing the sturdy dwarf back several paces with the force of its rush. Dorn arches backwards as he tries to avoid its snapping jaws, but it's all over him, and by the time he pushes it clear, he has a chunk missing from his cheek, and blood is pouring down his beard (OOC: 6hp damage, now on 36/47). Hurling curses at the beast, he manages to get enough space to swing his axe, The heavy double edged blade cuts into the werewolf, doubling it over and throwing it to one side, the sound of ribs cracking loud. The savage beast crumples, the body collapsing on top of the naked corpse of the woman, lying looking down into her face. With an effort, it starts to struggle to push its upper body up, though from the horrific injury, it is clear it will never survive.

Meanwhile, Ceely, Milo and Lucretia are still trying to tackle the wereboar. Stepping back a little, Milo tries unsuccessfully to bring his mancatcher to bear on the large agile wereboar, heaving a subconscious sigh of relief as it chooses to lunge towards Lucretia instead of him. As Ceely readies herself to thrust forward with her oiled short sword, praying that the magic of the oil would continue to have its effect, a heavy weight (#E) slams into her left shoulder, spinning her around and making her stagger back into Milo, pain flooding her as the beast's jaws grind through her leather armour as if it were cloth. (OOC: Critical hit I'm afraid. 14hp damage, now on 13/33 AND lost your attack - sorry!).

The third werewolf (#D) pushes past the one locked with Ceely and tackles Milo. The Painbearer has little chance to defend himself with his long mancatcher, fending off the werewolf and taking a bite to the forearm for his trouble. (OOC: 6 hp damage, now on 31/37)

Lucretia fares little better, as the massive wereboar lowers its head and drives its razor sharp tusks into Lucretia's guts. Lucretia feels as if he has been hit by a forge hammer, and the breath goes out of him (OOC: 12 hp damage, now on 25/52). He slashes at the wereboar with his enchanted short sword, but it ducks back just in time, Lucretia's blood mingling with Blondung's on its dripping tusks.

Up above the group, Merrell fumbles with a scroll, pulling out the paper and holding it up to the firelight. Reading the words of power, he glances down, picking a couple of targets, choosing the wereboar (#B) and one of the werewolves (#7) attacking Herod. Magical sparkles leap out from the scroll as it crumbles into dust, zooming down to cover the two creatures for a moment. The wereboar shakes its head, waving its hands as if to clear the air. The other werewolf stumbles, also shaking its head, then collapses in a heap.

Meanwhile, Vaslin, having floated gently to the top of the pile of rubble, slips a stiletto dagger from her boot, and stepping quietly across the rubble, plunges it hard into the wereboar's back, completely blindsiding it. It lets out a pig like squeal, and collapses to its knees.

ROUND SEVEN

Horrified by his close call with the werewolf (#4), Yvandel retreats, his swirling blurry images moving in a general direction towards the rear of the building. The werewolf nearest to him snarls, having realised the Vermen were illusionary, and now hurls itself towards the nearest of the six Yvandel's. Unluckily for the puppeteer, the were manages to somehow pick the only solid image, and despite Yvandel's attempts to fend the beast off with his staff, it seizes him with both hands snapping forward with its wolf-like maw to savage Yvandel's neck. (OOC: 10hp damage, now on 5/15). All six images suddenly spout blood and the young illusionist lets out a howl of agony that echoes over the sound of battle as he staggers wildly backwards.

Blondung, himself pressed up against the altar with a werewolf (#9) attacking him, manages to point the bone wand into its belly and gasp out the command words. Lightning sparks through the beast, hurling it back and through one of Yvandel's images, thundering on, the blinding bolt of energy barely missing Herod before reflecting off the north wall and then just missing Vaslin before disappearing in a peal of thunder. The beast, its flesh steaming and its back arched in spasm rolls uncontrollably on the floor for a few moments, before slumping lifeless.

Herod, trying to fend off a werewolf (#6) spots one of the Yvandel images moving backwards out of the corner of his eye, moving jerkily and suddenly spouting blood. Thanking his lucky stars that his own attackers had been halved, one of them having succumbed to an ally's magic, he is momentarily blinded by the sudden flash that passes right next to him. With the smell of ozone strong in his nose and his ears ringing, he blinks, lifting one arm instinctively as he sees a shadow in front of him. Agony rips through his arm, and he staggers back a few more steps, the jaws of the werewolf in front of him clamped down on his forearm. (OOC: Ouch! Critical hit - 14 hp damage, now on 25/39). Feeling the bones in his arm grating against each other, he looses all sensation in his left hand and tries to club the werewolf with the mace in his right hand, but it deflects the blow with its hand, releasing the priest's mangled arm to bare its teeth in his face in what looks like a feral grin. Behind the werewolf, Herod can see the swirling outline of his summoned dust devil, the weak air elemental bashing somewhat ineffectually at the werewolf attacking him.

On the southern side of the temple, Dorn steps over to the werewolf, raising his axe to finish it off. Before he can do so however, the beast seems to shimmer and warp, becoming a rather puny looking human instead, and slumps back over the body of the naked woman it had fallen on. Holding his blow, he glances up to see Milo and Ceely both struggling with their own werewolf attackers. The tall and stout Painbearer was waving his man-catcher in front of him, using it like a staff to try to defend against the slathering werewolf advancing on him, and Ceely was battling with her own scorched attacker, slashing at it with her magically oiled blade. Her blade cuts deep, and the beast staggers. Making his decision, Dorn, leaps after Milo's attacker, approaching it slightly from behind. He slams his dragon headed axe into, cutting into its back. Milo jumps out of the way as the beast crumples to the ground in front of him.

Lucretia, one hand clutching his torn stomach, raises his short sword in what he thinks will be a killing stroke. “Die you freak of nature!” he yells at it swinging his sword. Behind the wereboar, Vaslin, watches in horror as she pulls her stiletto out only to see the wound close miraculously behind it, not even oozing blood! The wereboar grunts, then launches itself straight up towards Lucretia, coming up inside the swing of Lucretia's sword, its tusks again goring the young warrior (OOC: 15 points damage, now on 10/52). (OOC: Sorry Luc, it does seem like I need some new dice for you!)

Meanwhile in the northern room, Cleo rushes away from Larz, back towards the doorway, from where another flash and crack of thunder announces Blondung's use of the bone wand again. "Sorry, Larz, gotta go!!" she yells over her shoulder, glancing back in time to see the werewolf on top of him shimmering and changing into a young human man, even as the dwarf rolls the body off him. Entering the main room, she sees a werewolf grappling with one of the illusionary Yvandel's and realises almost immediately that it had found the real one. Charging, she stumbles, tripping on a loose piece of rock and suddenly finds herself falling flat on her face instead (OOC: Sorry! Fumble!)

From up above, there is sudden almighty roar, seeming to almost shake the walls of the ancient building, and a huge lion bounds down through the roof into the centre of the rubble pile. The wall of sound blasts the werewolf (#6) attacking Herod, knocking it away from the Battleguard and tumbling it to the ground. Strangely, although Herod can hear the sound and feel its vibration, it is not deafening nor damaging to him. Similarly, the werewolf (#4) savaging Yvandel is blasted by the cone of sound, knocking it a few paces away. It growls, looking towards the source of the sound.

The mighty lion seems to almost lazily reach out a massive paw towards the wereboar, snagging it away from Lucretia, its six inch long claws ripping great furrows in the creature's side. The wereboar's howl of pain is cut short as the lion's mouth crunches down on its head, tearing it like a house-cat might rip the head from a mouse.

ROUND EIGHT

The werewolf's eyes (#4) widen in panic as he sees the fate of his leader - the wereboar having been ripped limb from limb by the giant lion. The were spins on the spot, only to find Cleo scrambling to her feet in front of it. Even as the werewolf tries to dodge past the barbarian lass, she slashes her heavy broad sword at it, the enchanted blade scoring along its ribs. It staggers sideways away from her, its left hand clasping at the gaping wound, its eyes filled with hate as it glared at Cleo. A shadow fell across it for a moment, and then suddenly it disappeared under a clawed and toothed golden shape, as the lion literally leapt the intervening distance. Its flight slowed by Cleo, the fate of the werewolf was sealed, noisily and bloodily ripped to shreds in mere moments by the avenging lion of Nabanion.

Meanwhile, the injured Lucretia, disgusted by his lack of skill with the enchanted shortsword, and, like a bad workman blaming his tools, ready to hurl it at an enemy, looked around. Searching for any werewolf still standing, he suddenly realises that there were none visible inside the main part of the temple. Catching a glimpse of movement, he sees a figure, a werewolf, fleeing back across the broken stone and rubble of the collapsed corner of the temple, though there is no clear shot for him to throw the short sword. He took a single step after the beast, but it was clear that he'd never catch him, and stopped, turning to the nearest corpse, noting how the werewolf had turned from slathering beast to middle-aged pot-bellied man.

Yvandel, with blurred bloody images still swirling around him, staggers away from the last werewolf, even as the lion that was Merrell rips it apart. Blondung leans up against the ancient altar, catching his breath. He looks sharply towards the doorway towards the north-east room, from where the crack of a spelll going off can be heard, almost drowned out by the noise of the lion's carnage and the whistle of Herod's summoned Dust Devil, the weak air elemental whirling aimlessly off to one side now that its last target was now dead.

Herod, somewhat distracted by the appearance of the lion, lifts the Goblin's Bane mace half-heartedly, turning to finish off the nearest werewolf, but finding that it had already changed back into a human. It was clear from the angle of the neck that the man wasn't going to be getting up again, and he lowers the mace again, glancing across at Milo as the large Painbearer jogs across to clamp his man catcher around the still sleeping werewolf, the beast having now reverted to human form - a pimply faced youth, barely a man.

Ceely hurries over towards the rubble pile, watching the last standing werewolf escape into the darkness and making sure it wasn't coming back.

Dorn, catching his breath, marvels at the giant lion, glad that it was using its powerful attacks against werewolves...

Meanwhile, in the northern room, Larz hurries to cast a spell as the four werewolves jump down from the already partially broken window sill, unaware of the fate of their companions on the inside of the temple.. Calling upon the power of Clangeddin, the dwarf calls for the stone floor to erupt below the feet of the two nearest werewolves, splinters of stone flying up around a them, as they advance towards him. (OOC: Larz's init was too slow to get them on the wall still). Staggering at the sudden explosion, they leap forward towards Larz, the Alaghor barely able to regain a grip on his Hammer of Clangeddin before the first of the two werewolves are upon him.

Falling back towards the doorway, Larz tries to avoid the beast's attack, but it savages his face viciously, (OOC: 10 hp damage), nearly pulling the sturdy dwarf off his feet with the ferocity of the attack. Even as he staggers, blood running down into his beard and turning it crimson, the second werewolf also attacks him, but he somehow manages to straight-arm its snapping jaws away with his right hand. (OOC: btw Mike, in case you missed it on his character sheet, Larz is left-handed.)

"There's four more in here!" he yells, somewhat desperately.

As this happens, the other pair of shape shifters bound across the room towards Soupy and Thunderbolt, the two horses snorting and rolling their eyes in fear, backing up against the wall. Between them, the two werewolves grab the unconcious body of the drow, and start back towards the windows...

ROUND NINE

Cleo is both the nearst and fastest to react to Larz's warning yell. Spinning away from the lion as it finishes ripping to shreds the body of the werewolf, seeming to growl and bare its teeth at her in parting, she darts through the doorway to the room she had only exited a short while earlier. Larz was almost right in front of her, covered in blood and trying to fend off two large werewolves looming over him. On the far side of thed room she spots two more werewolves, nearing the wall, with the body of the drowess carried limply between them. Along the wall to her left, the still heavily laden Thunderbolt and Soupy skittered near the lantern, casting huge shadows across the room, their hooves echoing on the stone flagstones and their eyes rolling in fear.

Cleo's eyes go wide "OH NO YOU DON'T!!!" she shouts, jinking right to go around Larz and ducking to avoid the back-swing of his hammer. As she starts past the right-hand werewolf, it suddenly changes opponent, and lunges at her instead, spreading its arms out wide to grab at her, its jaws snapping. Fending it off, she manages to twist her way past it, but not before its teeth manage to latch onto her upper left arm, (OOC: 6 hp damage) chainmail links pinging open as she wrenches herself free, charging across the room toward the other pair.

Behind her, she hears Larz cry out in pain again as the other werewolf again successfully bites him (OOC: 4 hp damage), followed by a yell of "Fall!" from him, the word carrying the force of a magical command in its intonation. She also realises she can hear the one that had bitten her following her on her race across the room.

Lifting her broadsword, the light from the lantern catching it and gleaming off the swirling patterns in its blade, she charges towards the nearest werewolf, fragments of broken stone crunching beneath her feet, the results of Larz's previous spells she guesses. Before she gets there, her target drops its burden and turns to meet her, snarling a challenge, only to suddenly succombe to the magic of Larz's blurted spell, throwing itself flat in front of her, probably more to its confusion rather than Cleo's!

Leaping over it, the barbarian lass hammers her sword in a horizontal arc at the other one, the heavy blade slashing a wound in its side as it fails to avoid the blow. Snarling in pain, the werewolf lifts the body of the Eilistrean drow woman under her arms and whirls here around, almost seeming to use it as a weapon and making Cleo jump back to avoid being struck by the unconcious woman's flailing legs. With inhuman strength, the werewolf completes its circle, hurling the body up towards the window opening, its lower edge now several feet nearer the ground following Larz's Rock Burst spell from earlier. The body sails through the opening, clipping it slightly and leaving torn black and bloody skin on the jagged edge of the stone before disappearing into the darkness.

A heavy weight slams against Cleo's back as there were that had been chasing her catches her up, knocking her somewhat off balance as its jaws clamp onto the back of her neck (OOC: 6hp more damage!).

Meanwhile, back in the main part of the temple, Yvandel, Herod, Dorn, Lucretia and Ceely all start to run, converging towards the doorway. The giant lion gets there first however, leaving a bloody mess behind it that was rapidly transforming into a simple collection of human body parts, even the sex now difficult to tell. Yvandel, still gripping a scroll in his hands from earlier, also follows after, moving around the widening pool of gore.

At the doorway, the lion that was Merrell slows to squeeze through what was quite a narrow opening for such a large creature. Right in front of him, is a dwarf and a werewolf, the latter with blood dripping from its maw, looking up with a somewhat shocked expression, at least that was the expression Merrell guesses was on it's inhuman face, the small part of Merrell still capable of logical thought at least.

Looking past Larz and the surprised werewolf right at its feet, the lion can see the back of a human warrior woman running across the room, a second werewolf chasing her, and a third turning to meet her. A fourth was grappling to hold a limp black skinned body in rags.- the drow! The burning desire to tear all of these vermin limb from limb rose within the lion, and it was all Merrell could do to choose which of them to go for. The dwarf, as yet still unaware of his presence, blurts out a word and the werewolf facing the woman (that somehow stirred a different emotion deep within the lion somewhere), suddenly falls over, allowing the woman to attack the other shape shifter behind it.

Bunching its powerful leg muscles the lion leaps across the room, landing next to the woman even as the werewolf chasing her attacks leaps on her back. (OOC: I flipped a coin, and decided that Merrell's feelings for Cleo might make him target the lion attacking her.) Snaking out a paw, its long claws gleaming briefly in the lantern light before they sink into the werewolf's back, the lion jerks the werewolf off Cleo as if piclking up a puppy. Moments later, the werewolf's head rapidly disappears in a sickly crunching noise, deep within the lion's jaws.

(OOC: not 100% sure, but I think that the lion's multiple attacks can't be spread among different opponents - though in this case, it probably won't make a great deal of difference to the outcome though!.)

Meanwhile, Yvandel, reaches the doorway almost simultaneously with Lucretia and Herod, Dorn and Ceely only a few seconds behind, along with a whirling dust devil that makes them all blink and shield their eyes from the wind and dust. With eyes watering, they arrive in time to see the lion leaping, the drow's body still in mid-toss through the window opening, and Cleo getting attacked from behind. The closest werewolf, directly in front of Larz, is in the middle of turning to flee, though isn't fast enough to avoid being struck a glancing blow by Larz's hammer, the dwarf taking advantage as the shapeshifter turns. Lucretia, jostling Yvandel slightly, the latter still slightly blurred, his multiple images bubbling ahead of him into the room, lunges past Larz to also strike the fleeing werewolf, making it stumble slightly as it heads for the windows. The various images of Yvandel, (causing more confusion in the doorway), realise they would be too slow to ! do more than hinder their compainons, and tuck the scroll they had been gripping back into their waistband, also starting to run across the room, heading towards the windows.

With the blockage in the doorway slightly cleared, Herod, Ceely and Dorn also rush into the room, chasing behind Larz and Lucretia, though too slow to reach the werewolves and attack.

Back in the main room, Milo watches most of the others rush towards the back room, as he stands still, gripping the still sleeping human in his man catcher.

Blondung pulls out a scroll, reading it. A shimmer settles over him then disappears. Vaslin rushes to Milo's side, bending to examine the trapped human, looking around to double check there are no new enemies arriving, she pulls out some rope to start tying up the sleeping shapeshifter.

ROUND TEN

The werewolf that had been commanded to fall (#3) glares up at Larz, even as the dwarf decides to leave the one that had previously attacked him to Lucretia, Ceely and Herod. As Larz and Dorn charge diagonally across the room towards it, and Cleo raises her blade above it, it surges back to its feet, launching itself at the dwarven Alaghor, lost in the frenzy of its rage. Cleo, surprised at its sudden speed, leaps after it, changing the angle of her blade to thrust after its departing back instead. Her blade cuts into its back, but it seems to ignore the injury in its fury at Larz.

Dorn, a pace ahead of his cousin, swings the dragon shaped axe head in a vicious low arc, intending to take the werewolve's legs out, but it leaps over the swinging blade, directly at Larz. The dwarven priest of battle is not phased by the werewolf virtually flying towards him however, and side-steps neatly, hammering his Hammer of Clangeddin into its side with an audible cracking of broken ribs. The creature sprawls across the floor, rolling into a jumble of uncontrolled limbs, blood already foaming at its mouth, its lips pulled back into a wordless snarl. Despite its horrific injuries, it starts to rise again, hatred and rage boiling within its blood red eyes as it glares at Larz.

Behind Cleo, the other werewolf (#2) that had thrown the drow out of the window, leaps for the window itself, but it is too slow, and the large feline that is Merrell pounces on it like a cat with a mouse. Further sickening sounds can be heard as its body is litterally ripped apart by the powerful beast. Yvandel, his multiple images still swirling around him, catches up, and watches on, horrified at the carnage, yet unable to look away.

On the north-eastern side of the room, Ceely manages to somehow catch Lucretia, and lunges forward at the fleeing werewolf, slashing the enchanted blade across its back,a thin line of blood spraying from the wound in the wake of the sword tip. It grunts, stumbles once and instead of leaping up the wall towards the window, crashes into the wall and rebounds, spinning in a snarling whirlwind of claws and teeth. Surprised by the way the cornered beast suddenly turned, it is all Ceely can do do back-peddle out of its way. From behind her, she can hear Herod murmuring some prayer to Tempus, and then Lucretia lunges past her left hand side, slamming his short sword deep into the werewolf's stomach. Gouts of blood well up around the blade, whipped into the air a little by the swirling vortex of air that seems to batter against the creature. Moments later, a disembodied hammer - also summoned by Herod - appears, cracking into the beast's forehead. Its eyes roll up in its head, and as Lucretia withdraws his sword, it collapses into a slowly spreading pool of blood, not even twitching as it dies.

High above the combat, a single bat flits in through one window, then seems to have second thoughts about making this its roost, and flits straight back out the other window.

Meanwhile, back in the main room, Blondung, Milo and Vaslin look somewhat nervously around as Vaslin finishes tying up the still sleeping youth, Milo holding him firm in the man-catcher just in case.

ROUND ELEVEN

The giant lion seems to spit out the remains of the werewolf it had just savaged, the body parts already reverting to human form, and glances around the room. It sees that one werewolf remained, the beast injured, but still up and regaining its feet. Imagining more Malarites outside, the lion manages to suppress the desire to interfere with that combat, it looked like the two dwarves and the human woman had that beast under control, and instead, it turns to the window. A single bound had it up at the window, its massive, now bloody, fore-paws pulling its body through with ease as it springs down on the other side. The night is dark outside the temple, and even the sharp eyes of the giant feline take moments to adjust, making out the crumpled heap of the drow groaning slightly close to the wall. Looking all around, the lion can see nothing moving, beyond a few night bats flitting through the air, taking moths on the wing.

Inside the room, the sole remaining werewolf leaps towards Larz again, the thing still berserk with rage despite its obvious injuries. The sturdy dwarf dodges surprisingly quickly aside however, and again batters it with his enchanted hammer. With an audible crack, the skull of the beast caves in under Larz's hammer, the body clobbered moments later by the hammer shaped force of Herod's spell, and finally chopped by Dorn's axe. It sprawls into a widening pool of blood, its body seems to shudder, then shrink, growing pale and turning into a gaunt young man in his early twenties. Even in death, his face seems to remain twisted in a mask of fury.

In the main part of the temple, Milo continues to stand guard over the now tied man, and Vaslin hurries towards the doorway to the north-eastern room, concern on her face. "Anyone seriously injured?"
she asks as Yvandel and Cleo appear. As the Puppeteer starts to walk past her, a torch now in hand, she stares at him, aghast, and realises her question doesn't need a verbal answer. The young illusionist looks in a bad way. Blood has drenched his clothing, both from the now-closed wound that Larz had healed earlier - the torn hole in his robes indicating where the crossbow bolt had hit - and still dripping down from his nasty neck wound.

Even as Vaslin steps forward to cast a healing spell (OOC: 6hp back, now on 11/15) to close the neck wound, she looks up to see Cleo emerging from the back room. She is also bloodied, her left arm bruised and torn in a couple of places, the links in the chain mail armour bent and broken in places, and similar to Yvandel, she too was bitten around the neck area, luckily missing the vital arteries, but still looking pretty bad.

It seems that battle had been won, but only at great pain and suffering!

***