The Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 533: THOU SHALL NOT PASS!

As the two Snarlfangs charged, one was brought to a halt as stone chains erupted from the ground, binding it firmly in place. As it struggled to break the spell cast by Fastian, the Earth Mage, a heavily armored gnomish Battle Stenographer attacked from the rear. Helga grabbed a hind leg firmly before punching hard at a tender spot just below her other hand. The bone cracked on the first hit and shattered on the second. Struggling within the chains, the Snarlfang howled in pain. Helga calmly broke its other leg. Gnos were not the fastest of runners, especially when encased in thick, stone armor. Since most of the creatures of the world were also much taller, their fighting style included many specialized blows aid at limiting an opponent's mobility. Normally, a Hamstring Strike didn't break bones, especially not those of a Tier 4 Elite. But when hostile forces threaten a Gold Tier Bank, and worse...a special custor who made large deposits...the aweso power of the Gnomish Banking System could be invoked by the branch manager to empower agents of the bank. Helga's punches were coming in with pile-driver force that rivaled the Butcher's and concentrated into her dainty fists they delivered deadly blows.

Rastian's spell broke, and the monster tried to pivot to attack Helga. She held her ground and gave it a painful punch in the snout, followed by another hit a second later. Like a boxer working a bag, she pumled the Snarlfang until its eyes were rolling up in its head, and it collapsed. Helga stepped back, breathing hard, just as a lance of molten rock took the Snarlfang in the chest, finishing it off. Helga gave Rastfian a thumbs up and looked to where Ozzy was dealing with the second one.

As his adversary had charged, Ozzy had called for his polearm, his Hogsplitter lying in the dirt at the base of the wall. Like a runaway train, the Snarlfang charged, its frozen brain not seeing the threat of the weapon set to receive its charge. Its own montum drove it onto the weapon, and Ozzy placed the tip just to the right of the breastbone, his Butchering skills showing him the perfect entry point. Ribs sliced and bent, and the head of his weapon drove two feet into the Snarlfangs body. Then the Butcher raised up his weapon, the Snarlfang speared on the end, and held it in the air. Gravity kept it impaled on the polearm, and the wound beca wider. The Butcher grinned evilly as he channeled Smoke and Heat through the end of his weapon. The Snarlfang began to cook from the inside out, howling in pain. Smoke and flas poured from its mouth.

"I wouldn't mind cooking you up this way to see what you tasted like, but I'm on a tight schedule, so back you go." He whipped around in a circle and tossed the Snarlfang a hundred feet away, and back over the wall. It was still alive, but not for long, as the hungry wolves accepted the offering of half-cooked Snarlfang. Wolves died to the creature's fangs and claws, but it was brought down and turned into a tasty treat.

Chainy was having fun baiting wolves and Snarlfangs into swimming the poisonous, infested moat. Chains hung from the walls with huge slabs of at on their hooks. Like an angler luring in fish, he taunted the wolves until they braved the moat and died to the poison and rippy fish. The wolves that he grabbed had their necks snapped before being tossed to a growing pile inside the walls. The Snarlfangs took more of his attention. The first, he had played with, catching it around the neck like a collar. He dragged the beast back and forth in the moat, letting the rippy fish tear into it and the poison do its work. It thrashed back and forth for a minute before dying.

The second was trouble. It didn't go for the at; it went for the Smokehouse itself. Leaping the moat, the Snarlfang had managed to climb to the roof, tearing loose boards and gouging the structure itself as it raced to the top, where it found an open hatch. Spying prey below, it leaped at the old man tending the fires. Joe didn't even look up from his work, as dozens of chains grabbed the Snarlfang and wrapped it so securely that it couldn't move. Like a fly trapped by a spider, the Snarlfang found itself hanging from the ceiling as hot smoke filled its lungs.

Joe shook a finger at it. "Playti is over. Kill the damned things, then we smoke them. Damnation, what are we going to do with ten tons of poisoned at?"

Chainey made a rude gesture and went back to taunting wolves, but did take the next Snarlfang more seriously. He wasn't happy to have its exterior chewed up. Nor was he happy to have prey stolen from it. He'd managed to get another Snarlfang to leap at him, but a giant, greenish hand erged from the water and snagged the Snarlfang by a hind leg. The beast found itself pulled deep into the poisonous water where a much more dangerous predator lurked. Jenny Green Teeth was tired of rabbits and porkchops. The Hag was swimming in her true form, unseen by anyone but her victims, as she gorged herself on red at; her insatiable appetite let loose for the first ti in years. The rippy fish knew better than to get near her, but appreciated the small parts of her victims that floated in the water. Players got glimpses of her as she continued to pull wolves under the water. She smiled at them, showing her large, iron teeth.

On the walls, the players were able to handle the few Snarlfangs they had to face, but with difficulty. Most of the beasts leaped to the courtyard seeking prey in the town. But every Snarlfang who stayed on the walls killed a half dozen players, and the guilds on the rear and side walls were filtering in to reinforce the front, replacing the losses. Only a few wolves were running around the sides and rear of the town. The bulk of the packs stubbornly attacked from the front, packing themselves tightly against the walls, and filling the moat with corpses. Master Caldrius had the mages well organized, throwing wave after wave of spells for maximum effect. The White Circle of Sedgewick kept up their chanting, drawing mana from the town to replenish the spellcasters. Only once did they have to deal with a Snarlfang that managed to leap from a wall up to their perch on the gat tower. It was t by a glowing Betty who struck it ti and again with her frying pan as the cuckoo clock in the tavern chid in ti with her blows.

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"I told you not to co back here!"

As the beast died of a broken skull, she wavered and collapsed onto a stool provided for her. Granny handed her a cookie. "Here, dearie. This will help with the hangover. Channeling like that is tiring, but I put extra molasses in my spice cookie recipe, and a double dose of ginger, turric, and cloves for the pain. You'll be ready to hit another one pretty soon."

Sedgewick was holding out, but the wolves were gaining ground. The poisonous vines and moat had killed so many that the moat was clogged and bodies were piled ten feet high against the walls, building a ramp that the wargs leaped from, attempting to get at the defenders. The vines were choked and torn down from the walls by the weight of their victims. Suzette was standing on the roof of her tavern, the center of her power in the town. She pushed her vines to regrow and drew poisonous waters from her fae realm until the nearest lake went dry, and only a trickle ca out of the cave mouth. The Fairly Lights throughout the town glowed brightly, hurting the eyes of the Snarlfangs and confusing them. They were finding no easy prey within the town. Every building was a small fortress, and so were dangerous. Two Snarlfang carcasses near the bank were still smoking from the lightning bolts summoned by the clock tower. Banker Coppertwist stood on the third-floor balcony, his pocket watch firmly in hand as he kept an anxious eye on his wife. He would support her, but not interfere. She'd trained long and hard for battles just like this. He cheered her on as she put a painful punch into a beast's kidneys, stunning it and allowing the Butcher to snap its neck.

In the tightly packed mass of burning wolves, the Snarlfangs roared their displeasure and fought against the Beastmaster controlling them. An iron will was holding them back and only allowing one or two at a ti to assault the town, feeding them into the at grinder of Sedgewick. In a camouflaged bunker on a hill, the last two Beastmasters ca face to face with Fearless Leader, to their great horror. They didn't suffer long as Squirmie bit off their heads and chewed up their brains.