The Calling . . .

Crie are usually very logical creatures. Emotions such as fear and anger are alien to most Crie. As spirits of  the elements, Crie find themselves above the mundane squabbles of most outer-worlders. Still, death, whenever it comes its way, is a concern for any intelligent creature.

When Par first saw the wolves charge, he was unprepared for the savageness of their attack. He parried off two bites before he returned a swing. Concentrating on the dark eyes of the nearest beast, everything else turned black. His body spun like a whirlwind and with Herculean strength he crushed the dog's head with a single blow. As the soil enveloped him, he made his way to the one he felt at fault for this attack. Animals of nature rarely turn on each other . . . This knight must have some reason for releasing these enslaved souls.

Bolt parried of an initial jab by the fanged white wolf and returned a bloodied blade to the creature's belly. Blood poured out its underside, but still it fought on. The swordsman backed up to see how Par was doing . In an instant, he saw his comrade become one with the soil and disappear. J Just beyond where Par had leveled one beast, Bolt could see Dev finishing off another. These things were dropping like flies!

Anterbach hit one wolf with his short sword and swung again to catch the creature across the left ear. The beast swung around the little healer's back and thrashed with both claws against the colored garments of the halfling. Blood, dark red, stained its claws. Anterbach was hit, hit hard. Bolt moved in to cover his little comrade's back. In doing so, the swordsman's flank was exposed to another winter beast's bite.

Through the pain and screams, Bolt saw the knight. Calmly it raised a crossbow and pointed right at the charismatic leader. In his mind, the zing of the bolt was somehow audible and much louder than the crashing of blade and bone. The howl was intense and the pain very real. But, it was not Bolt that felt the missile.