Even so, the creature was still putting up quite a fight. Though the orcs were fast, they were finding it exceptionally difficult to locate a vulnerable avenue of attack. Its tail lashed wildly at its rear, spitting the corrosive fluid as it did. To the flanks, its wings might have been useless for flying but proved to be perfect for skewering flesh upon their long, bony spurs. A frontal attack seemed out of the question as any attacker would find itself facing those great fore-claws and the creature's fanged maw.

These constant dangers prevented the orcs from attacking, and instead kept the creature in a holding position until someone could provide a solution of how to take the damned thing down. Kozash, Urgin and Borika all fell into line and seemed to be preparing some attack of their own, but whatever it was seemed to be taking far too much time.

It wasn't until Talina entered the fight that the tide turned in spectacular fashion.

If seeing veteran orcs fight in real-time was impressive, watching

Talina was downright awe-inspiring. She had followed them inside the

Great Hall at Valise's side, but kept to the shadows and out of the action as a mere bystander to the spectacles occurring in the centre of the hall. Upon seeing Wren's transformation, she had discarded her cloak and leapt up to use the tables Like stepping stones to navigate her way through the crowd toward the great beast. After positioning herself behind it, she took a few moments to watch the way the creature moved whilst unleashing two long blades. Gregory remembered those weapons, still attached by thin chains to the metal bracers in which they had been sheathed on her forearms.

He saw the flash of the blades spiralling outward on the chains as she leapt up above the fray, far higher than he'd thought humanly possible.

The beast did not see her, being far too occupied with the orcs. She descended from above to land on its back and immediately ensnared the chains around its neck. The chains tightened, causing a gush of black blood to spurt from its neck and its deafening scream to fade into a mere gurgle.

The attack made the creature's entire body convulse in shock, and that provided the opening the orcs had been looking for. Wren's right wing was soon crippled, and the left pinned down against the ground by several orcs and the assistance of Urgin's tangling vines. The tail was severed entirely, and an orc moved in to ram a burning torch against the bleeding stump to cauterize the wound in case it began to spurt with that acidic poison.

Wren had been forced down onto one knee, and one of Grolfir's pack who wielded a giant warhammer stepped forth to deliver a crushing blow to the side of the creature's head. It took the Last of the fight from the beast, though as it came to collapse on the ruined stone beneath its feet, it still struggled vainly for breath. Talina kept her stranglehold tight, and it was only when she saw Gregory raise his arm to call for a halt to her attack that she ceased choking the life from the beast.

“Elder Wren," Grolfir called out over the bustle of advancing warriors.

“As war-chief of the southern tribes, I name you a traitor! Your accuser is granted the right of execution."

With those words, quite a few heads turned to Gregory. A pathway was made to allow him to approach the fallen shaman. He made his way toward it with considered steps, holding his borrowed sword tightly in his hand. Laid before him was the fallen orc who had sowed so much torment in his life since he'd arrived in Arolius. It seemed fitting that he should feel some sense of victory and purpose in his enemy's defeat, but all he could muster was grief. So many dead Lay at the feet of a misguided fool who had given himself over to darkness out of fear and hatred of what he didn't understand.

Gregory dropped the sword to his side and looked down at the peering eye of Wren. Even then there was nothing but loathing in the green orb that contained a steadily dying fire within its gaze.

“My friends died because of him," he said loud enough for the hall to hear. His words rang with a strange hollowness, absent of feeling.

“I know that many of you also Lost friends and family, and have a greater claim to his head than me. But I also know the first of us that tried to stop the infiltration of this camp. He was a blacksmith who raised his work hammer to try and protect my home from the invaders. His name was Torren, and this was his mate."

Gregory raised his arm to gesture toward Talina, and watched a single tear spill down the girl's cheek.

“Kill him, Talina."

The movement was so quick that Gregory's eyes didn't quite catch it.

The grotesque head of the beast Wren had become snapped wildly to the side, and a gush of black blood spilled out across the floor. All signs of life vanished within the monster in seconds, and the last of the green flame in its eyes faded to emptiness.