The two gnolls struggle in vain against the infernal chains that Vark has bound them with. Only one of their comrades remains standing and he lunges at Valaith with his spear, but she casts the weapon aside with ease. Further up the pass, another gnoll trailing at the back of the pack notices the motion behind them and beckons to several others nearby. Soon, six have gathered, nocking arrows to their longbows and peppering the goliath with shots from afar. One falls wide, but most of the shots are true. However, Valaith's shining mithril breastplate protects her from any more than a few bruises.

Rushing towards the one gnoll still moving near Valaith, seeing that some others has seen them and are firing arrows towards them, Thurston curses in norscan but he is already inside the silence bubble casted by the devil and his lips makes no sound. 
He jumps and grabs the gnoll, circling the neck with his arm, and forcing the gnoll to bend down. He raises Rikkazarik and smash his head with it. The whole body trembles by the impact, but there is still live on the creature, who tries to struggle against the paladin to get free. 

Aiden moves to charge with Thurston. He begins to draw his sword, but the shining flash of moonlight from the blade made him sheath it. He pulls an axe from his belt and plunges it into the face of the gnoll held by Thurston.

With the initial group of gnolls silenced by other means, Didymus releases his current spell and replaces it with an illusion of an empty pass that he weaves between the archers and the rear of the gnoll forces.

The mountain winds were never welcoming, be it to natives, visitors, or invaders. Such a feeling was painfully clear to Bründir now as he sat near an overnight fire. Through his armour and cloak, the wind found a way in. While he was never much for philosophy, he saw the poetic symbolism behind the endless, inevitable invasions through walls of security. He could leave, go somewhere out of the wind, huddle by a hearthfire under blankets with warm ale. But that would mean abandoning all he'd built up. So much effort made to protect something so vulnerable, yet so vital to his very being. No, he would endure this cold, he would endure this invader. He would not abandon that which he worked so hard to protect.

A voice roused the dwarf from his contemplations. A gruff cough broke the whistling night, and Bründir turned to see Captain Ironheel from Khaz a Gungron's Highshields company. "Lo-rd Halfshield?" There was a hesitation in the title, as Bründir made a habit of snapping at anyone who dared to address him as such. With a bit of surprise, Sheercleft's lord simply turned and nodded. "We're assembled, as ye asked."

If such a meeting could be called a war council, then a swarm of rats may as well have been a royal court. Assembled in a tent stood a half-dozen collective of unlikely allies. A few humans and dwarves, an elf outrider captain, and a cloaked kobold. All huddled around a table large enough for just three cozy stools. A map of the region was laid out on the table between them. Clearly defined were the trio of inhospitable peaks between Sheercleft and Quenlan: Judgement, Cruelty, and Secrets. Such places were ones very few ever dared to linger, let alone settle. Still, they were the only true way for a force such as Marcellus’ to reach Sheercleft.

Bründir greeted those present and asked after the disposition of the forces as he laid out several painted stones across the map. Ix's kobolds were emboldened with so many marching, but Sheercleft's own soldiers were cautiously optimistic at best, for they had seen and repelled invaders before. Still, a true Breannian army is not a wild force of goblin raiders. The Highshields carried themselves on a lofty history of past successes and believed themselves to be marching to yet another victory. Bründir's rudimentary campaign map was laid out with several stones just outside Sheercleft, and several more further down the road toward Quenlan.

"Here we are." Bründir announced with a fat finger on the map between Sheercleft and Judgement. "By end o' mornin', we'll be set where we need to be. I've talked to y'all so far, an' seems we've got a plan. I’ll say it now: no one’ll be all pleased, but this is best as we got. If my Archarnost friends do well, they’ll ‘ave Marcellus stalled ‘ere,” Bründir placed the several Breaniean stones between Mt. Cruelty and Judgement. “We’ll place ourselves ‘ere, on th’ near side o’ Judgement. Marcellus expects a siege, so he won’ think we’re out ‘ere. Our plan is t’ hit’im in a tight spot where he can’ spread out an’ has t’either charge our lines or run. Now, since it’s our first time ‘ere in force an’ lookin’, we need t’find a spot fer droppin’ arrows an’ such on’em. Ix, you’n th’ miner levies’ll scout that out. When Marcellus charges, an’ I’m sure he will, ye’ll set on’im. When they start breakin’, you get ‘round’em an’ block their exit or take as many as ye can. Can't say it enough, don' get yerselves caught dead by trapped animals, an' don' chase'em back t' Quenlen. All goes well, th' infantry down there'll move up an' meet ye." The dwarven commander eyed the kobold leader with a piercing gaze that conveyed enormous trust and apprehension.

"Down below, most'll be pretty straight. Captain Ironheel's got our muscle, an' I trust his men'll give hell fer an inch. That said, he'll hold our center. On 'is sides, we'll have th' Sheercleft Guardsmen. That'll give us a strong line t' hold'em in place. Behind that line, we'll 'ave Thurston's Naked Guard an' Elven Cavalry. Guard needs t'be stuck on that line like stink on a cow's ass, right? Soon as ye see a line givin', yer in there keepin'em up." Bründir beams a glare at a human who, thankfully, was clothed for the meeting but nonethless represented the "elite" infantry selected for training by the Norscan hero. The man smiled wide, reassured by the promise of glory, combat, and heroism. "Now's the tricky bit: horses aren't worth much on a mountain." The elven captain present quirked an eyebrow, "I'll be in an' out of th' thick, but soon as I give a signal, we give way one side. Soon as Marcellus' boys take th' bait, ye run through'em like hell."

Bründir leaned away from his map and looked over his captains. The expressions returned were the spectrum of skepticism to devotion. "Fer those not totally convinced, know we'll have th' full Archarnost 'ere when it happens." Bründir waves a hand at the smiling Naked Guard captain, "This kid'll go home tellin' girls he charged a line with lightning in his arm an' thunder in his-" The dwarf was cut off by Captain Ironheel suddenly coughing and waving away the image. Bründir couldn't help but laugh a bit at his own joke, though, "Point is not many'll go without one o' mine in there with'em. Spread the plan fer now, get yer rest. We need t' move fast and set in faster t'morrow. I want Marcellus thinkin' he found Sheercleft a day early by how well we dug in."

Seeing the growing number of gnolls joining this detachment, Vark curses under his breath. Quickly he works his hands into a flurry of gestures, tracing primordial runes in glowing blue through the air. A ways down the slope the mountain snow begins to roil and rise up as Vark conjures a tidal wave of water and ice and sends it crashing down on the archers. It’s a risky choice as the rest of the gnolls are close by, but Vark strains to pull the wave back just short of Didymus’ rippling illusory screen. 

Val sweeps Rook in a vicious arc feeling two of the gnolls quickly, bones crunching and muscles tearing beneath the frenzy of her attacks. Without wasting even the barest of moments to catch her breath, she starts rushing towards the nearby archers as quickly as her feet will carry her! 

Matteo shifts his cloak, edging towards the gnolls. The colours swirl as he steps, hiding his movement from all but the keenest observer.

The gnolls behind the illusory screen stagger to their feet after being knocked to the ground by the wave of water that Vark conjured from above. Yelping and howling they scamper back through the image of an empty pass, calling for the attention of their brothers in arms.

[Thurston tris yo cast lighting from Rikkazarik and he blast Teo of the gnolls, forcing the lighting down to the ground not to alert the rest of the unit] 

Grimacing at the situation, Aiden glances around. There were no good hiding places...not for someone in heavy armor. It was time to get creative. He focuses his willpower into the helmet that Thurston had given him, and feels himself begin to float off the ground. Quickly gaining control of his newfound ability, he floats over the edge of the road, doing his best to not look down the snow-covered rocky chasm. He tucks himself just beneath the road, hoping that the gnolls wouldn't think to look over the edge.

The illusion of an empty pass shimmers and fades. At the same time, Valaith and Thurston blink out of sight where they stand.

Now would be a good time to move, they both hear Didymus's voice whisper in an ear.

Cued by Didymus’ fading illusion, Vark begins to conjure a bank of fog. Spurred on by his primordial incantations, the cloud rolls down the craggy slope to obscure the closest rank of gnolls and the space between the army and the Acharnost. Trails of the same cloud drift from Vark’s feet as he flits away from Marcellus’ forces.

The gnolls scatter towards the army and Val stops abruptly, sending small stones scattering across the hardpacked ground. She turns to look at the others, but suddenly finds that she cannot see Thurston, nor anyone else... in fact, she realizes she can no longer see Rook clutched in her hands or even the hands that held it. Never one to look too hard into a gift, she finds someplace she can hide from any scouts that will likely be sent out to investigate as she dashes towards some nearby outcropping of boulders. 'Hope the others are okay.'

Matteo glances around as the lightening arcs across him. There was clearly a reason Jex didn't usually bring the others. He slowly moves from the side of the road, still edging towards the others. His fingers curl around the edge of the mask as the voices in his head intensify, but he resists the call to put it on.

Thurston nods as if the voice on his head can see him and he looks for a big boulder back from where the others where to duck behind. 

The gnoll column comes to a halt as the cries of alarm spread throughout the ranks. However, with the clouds descending upon the mountain, it seems that their attackers are nowhere to be found. Eventually, they reorganise into a slightly more defensive formation and continue along the mountain path.

Vark waits for several long moments after the sounds of the hyenafolk have become distant echoes before emerging from his own hiding place. “Well… that sucked. I hope that doesn’t put the whole army on high alert tonight, and now I’ll have to meditate again just to draw back the power I had to spend…” He turns to find Didymus, his expression lifting as he spots the devil. “You were really helpful though, Didymus! Thank you.”

Didymus bows with a flourish in Vark's direction as he picks through the corpses of the fallen gnolls.

Matteo watches Didymus with some distaste. Looting the battlefield had been something Jex would regularly do, but now it seemed off.

"Now they are so close, they will be on high alert anyway. But there is a limit on how long anybody can focus their vigilance. These creatures didn't seem the smartest, once their dinner cooks they'll be back to considering their security the responsibility of someone else. The wizard though, may be a harder target, he may well set up some defences, we should try to catch him on the move."