The rain still fell. For almost anyone else tracking the Iron Golems in this muck would have been impossible. As feet moved out of the mud the ground melted back into the shape it had been before it was disturbed by the men passing.
Even the rain couldn't cover some things though. Where Ogors tread plants tended to be crushed and where they rushed by stones were toppled.
Eventually the Golems stopped and their leader went out to give the witch the artifacts they had recovered. The Beasts arrived and worked their way to surround the remaining Golems.
With the knowledge the Iron Golems had obtained from the witch they would be able to find the Fir An Bolg, but they would not be able to easily get it without their Ogor.
If the Beasts could cripple him then it might give them time to find something else the witch needed.
With a ferocious howl the Beasts attacked.
Discerning their intent the Golems moved to protect the Ogor.
But the Beasts were too quick, too fierce and they battered aside the warriors without much trouble, their lion tearing through flesh and armour alike.
The agile warriors of the plains moved up the ruined buildings and used them as a bridge to cross the foot-trapping mud below.
The Ogor could not be restrained anymore and ran into the combat, his powerful strides smashing him into the Beast's lion, badly injuring it.
It raked him with its claws and he traded blow for blow with his hammer fists, leaving the creature insensate and barely breathing in the mud.
The Beast Talker, had been whipping the Ogor repeatedly as the fight went on, each lash scoring a crevasse that spurted blood from the monster.
The Golem's leader battered one of the Beasts to the ground just in time to see the Ogor succumb to the barbed lashing. He impotently shook his hammer at the heavens knowing that their quest had been delayed as the Beasts fled the field.
