Lugh fired another shot, this time at a figure toward the middle of the pack of creatures, hunched, but standing upright. They were bestial in aspect, but they carried weapons like a hunter-gatherer might own where stone and bone and sinew were far more available than metal.
Lugh glided, firing as he went, but there were too many monsters, too few arrows, and not enough time. Oatie grabbed and fired stones as fast as she could whirl them to speed, but it was no use. Lugh howled his frustration and fired his last arrow. He flung his bow away and ripped his short sword from the scabbard at his side. Screaming, Lugh sprinted toward the tightening mob of shambling creatures.
The big brute nearest Oatie swung his stone axe as Lugh’s last arrow took him high in the chest. Oatie stomped down on the end of her spear levering it up to take another beast in the guts. She flung her sling, stone and all at another while ducking a third spear thrust and grasping her own spear with both hands to wrench it free of the carcass impaled on it.
Creatures, likely the smallest and most fearful, had heard Lugh’s challenge and were turning, some dropping their weapons and fleeing toward the brush, but the knot of the fiercest washed over Oatie and she disappeared under the press.
The squatty, fanged, and fur draped creatures that turned toward his challenge melted away from his fury. Stunned or dead creatures remained, Lugh disregarded them for the moment. The larger creatures struggled to untangle themselves. The creature closest to Lugh’s charge fell back gurgling with a sword thrust through its throat. Another reached for him and lost its hand. Those that could, scattered leaving two brutes, the one with Oatie’s spear through it and, rising weakly, with a bloody axe in its fists, was the monster with Lugh’s own arrow jutting from its chest.
Beneath the impaled corpse, the side of her head a mass of blood lay Oatie. With a renewed howl of rage, Lugh launched himself at Oatie’s wounded murderer.