For once in their unwashed lives, the barbarians were taken completely by surprise. The whrill EEEEEEEEEE! of the shrews as they flew through the air drew their attention. Once barbarian who was not quite as a mean or evil as he made himself out to be though to catch one of the falling rodents before it hit the ground. Such tactics were not beyond the horde itself, but to see them employed by the Citadel was quite another.
A few seconds later, hands extended, the barbarian made a perfect catch...and then exploded!
*****
The Elf laughed, and called up his second in command, the Champion of Immortal Evil. "Are they ready?" The elf asked.
"Yes, milord. They number 12, each has been prepared to your liking and fitted with the barbed silver armor as requested." The Champion said.
"You do not look healthy, do you plan on dying?" the elf asked.
"It is just a side effect of working with the sciofluids to make the sark-hounds. I do not plan on dying any time soon, why do you want to rummage through my stuff or have a keep sale?" The Champion asked. The Elf only laughed. Below the mount where he observed the battle, a number of glittering silver balls were being loaded into trebuchets. The Elf hoped that the undead creatures within the armor shells would remain functional after being fired from the giant slings and into the center of the keep. He hoped that given the rather furry nature of many of the citadel inhabitants that the cost of the silver armor would pay for itself. He gave a shout and in quick succession the slings fired their cargos, four sarks to a sling, a shotgun delivery of zombies.
The silver spheres sailed through the air, with the first coming up short, the silver clad zombies splattering against the walls of the citadel. With some luck, one or two might reform in a day or so, but that was too long. The others cleared the wall and their silver carapaces pierced the protective arrow wards raised by the Comet mercenaries. One sphere smashed through the ranks, killing several of the mercenary mages and wounded several others. The sphere creaked as its cargo moved, hinges opened and revealed the animalistic undead within the silver shell.
The creautre lunged, swinging its silver bladed forelimbs at the mercenaries closest to it and snarling with animalistic fury, its face a black piece of steel bolted over the eyes...
Sark Hounds
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