[ WP ] `` The tree looked like it was made of wolves . ''

Mallory Corvin bit back a curse as a metallic twang and lethal whir of crossbolts filled the air. His Devout warjack, weighing almost four tons and standing eight and a half feet tall threw itself in front of the Sul-Menite warcaster, intercepting a flurry of the deadly missiles with its armored shield. Others were not so fortunate. A bolt found the throat of one his choir members, the small cluster of faithful charged with the sacred task of lending their prayers and holy chants to the aid of Corvin's warjacks. The unfortunate soul fell choking as his wound leaked bright red blood. His staff toppled to the damp forest floor a half-second before him. 
 
 `` To arms!'' Corvin cried, urging his'jacks to form a moving wall of steel between him and the unseen foe. Shunting his mind to his Redeemer with mace and skyhammer rockets he saw with both their eyes, a unique double vision strange only to those not grace with the divine gift of Menoth. Through his light warjack he spied figures within the trees, men dressed in green enameled armor under cloaks made of wolfskin. In the hands of these enigmatic warrior were double crossbows, the ability to fire a second volley readily evident as another five of Corvin's soldiers fell with black feathered bolts piercing their plate and mail. The Temple Flameguard quickly formed a shield wall, their spears leveled over the rims. The rest of his men quickly fell in behind the career soldiers, even the Knights Exemplar noting the need for cover. More missiles flew out of the dark woods, snapping against stout shields or else deflecting off bronze helms to leave dangerous looking scuff marks. 
 
 Corvin snarled and bid his Redeemer to fire of a salvo of rockets. The space between warjack and trees was enveloped in smoke as a trio of shrieking missiles threw themselves into the thick undergrowth of forest, the explosions silhouetting the shapes of men and beast within its thickets. Men and wolves were thrown into the air, their bodies broken by the lethal shrapnel. The incoming fire slackened noticeably while a lone wolf rushed out of the trees, blood dripping from its flank. Howling and snarling, the wounded beast leaped at Corvin with teeth bared only to be impaled by the Devout's long halberd. The wolf gave one low moan and died, the'jack flicking its corpse of the blade as an afterthought. 
 
 From deeper within the forest came the howls of both man and beast, a feral and wild sound that seemed to echo off every trunk and branch. 
 
 *Servants of the Devourer Wurm, * Corvin though grimly. The antithesis of everything Menoth stood for, the druids of Great Foe lived only to sow destruction and chaos. They fought order and civilization and sought to replaced it with their own twisted world, one harking back to the days for the Gifts of Menoth. 
 
 `` Warriors of the faith!'' He cried aloud, raising his double-bladed glaive Misericordia to catch the rays of the late morning sun on its twin blades. `` Every heathen you kill today saves a faithful soul tomorrow! Show these monsters the wages of sins!'' 
 
 Flameguard and Knight Exemplar shouted in joy, secure in the knowledge that their souls were protected by their Creator. Armed zealots prepared slow-burning match cords to ignite the handheld fire bombs stored within their pouches, ready to fling them over the heads of their professional brethren. The howling grew louder and bloodier, a cry rising like some terrible creature from its lair, starting low but gaining volume and momentum. 
 
 *Kill... Kill... Kill. Kill. Kill.Kill.Kill.KillKillKillkillkillkillkill!!! * 
 
 Like a pack the Wolves of Orboros charged out of the treeline, cleft-bladed spears aimed at the hearts of the Sul-Menites, wolfskin cloaks fluttering behind them like bloodstained banners. 
 
 `` Fire!'' 
 
 Exemplar Errants with heavy crossbows fired over the shoulders of the flameguard spearmen, scores of the foe falling to the damp earth with white fletched bolts piercing their green hued armor. Corvin urged his Redeemer to fire again with its rockets, the wildly inaccurate missiles unable to miss at this range. The screams of the faithless was a hymn to his ears, the choir behind him chanting a prayer to help guide his warjacks' weapons. 
 
 The heavy Vanquisher with flail and flame belcher cannon opened up, shooting a cannonball to explode in the midst of the surging Wolves. One died instantly, his body consumed by the fiery conflagration. Four other green-clad warriors were not so fortunate, their screams an octave about the din as they burned alive. 
 
 As the survivors neared the Sul-Menite lines they received a second volley of crossbow bolts, another sixty or so Wolves brought down like dogs. The rest crashed against the shield wall of the Flameguard, the double ranks bending in some places but refusing to be breached. Menites who fell were quickly replaced by the man behind them, those in the front row pushing back with shoulders deep in their shields. behind the spearmen zealots hurled their fire bombs as far as possible to explode among the packed Wolves. Any foe who neared Corvin's Vanquisher did not live to regret their mistake, the lengthy flail wielded in its right fist swinging about to smash against any encroaching Wolves. 
 
 Among it all Corvin fought, his blades flashing and twirling about, every block or parry was quickly followed with a counter of his own, a growing circle of dead foes around him. One slash and a enemy spearman fell to the ground clutching at his spilling innards. A stab with the other blade caused three nearby foes to ignite in a burst of flames, their screams adding to the noise of battle. From the smoke choked forest sounded a howl darker and fiercer than those before. Then another, and another. Behind his half-mask Mallory Corvin grinned, knowing well what kind of monsters those howls belonged to. 
 
 *Finally, * he thought. *A worthy foe. *
