Chapter 2(c)

     Fenel slipped silently behind the third rib at about the exact time Angus shouted  to the murderous dwarves.He was certain that they would not comply with his father because they were far too enraged for rational thought .  He watched as two of them raced toward his kinfolk.  He held his position inspite of an overwhelming urge to jump into the fray and an equally strong desire to get as far away as possible from the pervasive disgusting odor that filled the air.  He continued to wait, knowing his place in this battle plan.  His father and brother were the main attack, he was the reserve.  If, by some unthinkable happenstance , these villains were able to place either of his kin in jeopardy, he would rush out to their aid.  If any of the marauders attempted to flee, it was his job to see that they did not reach the end of the Rest.       As he surveyed the battleground, he observed that he was needed, not by his father or brother, but by Goom.  She had been fighting with one dwarf and being quite effective.  What she was unaware of was that one of the dwarves that had battered her son was now moving to position himself behind her for an easy kill.  Fenel allowed the sneaking creature to get  behind Goom, which placed the soon-to-be-unfortunate fellow directly in front of him.  As this attacker raised his crudely made battleaxe high above the unsuspecting orc's head, Fenel made his move.  He raced from behind the rib and let out an ear-shattering roar.  Everyone present that was not related to Fenel froze for a brief moment, unsure of what new danger they faced.  The backstabbing dwarf, being only a few feet from the source of the roar, started to turn toward the noise.  Expecting to be face-to-face with the gaping jaws of a grizzly bear or some other such creature, he was shocked to be eye level with the pick end of Fenel's pick hammer.  He never even had a chance to get a glancing block before it was lights out for him.  Goom had stopped fighting when she heard Fenel's roar.  Fortunately for her, her opponent had lost the fight with her right as Fenel announced himself.   She was able to see Fenel end the life of her erstwhile murderer, before collapsing to her knees and the falling against the side of the cart, exhausted and gravely wounded.  Fenel, after a brief check that the others had the threat well in hand, dropped down beside Goom and began tending to her wounds.     
     When Boulder and he had broke into their 'battle run,' Angus had almost laughed out loud.  He was elated.  He was going to have the honor and the pleasure of delivering the vengenence of the Keep dwarves to their enemy.  Just as he was about to run into the dwarf charging him, Angus dropped to a roll, tripping his opponent.  The dwarf hit the ground hard, jarring loose his thorn topped club and momentarily knocking the wind out of him.  Angus quickly sprang back to his feet and saw that the dwarf that Boulder had tripped up earlier had found his footing  and was advancing toward with urgency.  While the marauder was still five or six feet away, Angus pulled Thunderstrike from his belt and threw it directly at him.  The charging creature had not expected this move and trying to understand how to deal with it, hesitated too long, catching the war hammer with the left side of his face.  The force of the throw sent him flying backwards a good distance and that ended him, another name was added to the list of the vengenence of the Keep.
     Angus's original opponent had, by this time, regained his feet and was searching for his club when he saw Angus dispatch his friend.  Watching that and Fenel's roar gave him pause, but then he spied his club just a couple feet from him.  It was then that he realized that Angus had just thrown away his weapon.  A triumphant smile formed on his lips as he moved to pick up his own weapon.  Angus was faster.  As soon as the dwarf began to move, Angus charged him.  When he was just a few feet from the marauder, he launched himself at him like some kind of dwarf spear.  Angus's opponent was so intent on retrieving his club that he had no real defense against this unusual attack. Allowing Angus to crash into him, his armored right shoulder meeting roughly with the marauder's ribcage, breaking at least two ribs.  The hammered dwarf fell backwards, out of breath and his chest on fire with pain.  Angus used his forward momentum to tumble right over his enemy's head, landing soundly on his feet , just inches from the torn-topped club.  He reached down for it, just as his foe slowly rolled over and made to get up.  The dwarf was on one knee and weakly starting to rise when Angus's upswing with the club caused it and some bones to shatter and sent the dwarf sprawling back the other way.  This time the dwarf did not move.  Angus then went over to the other fighter, both to retrieve Thunderstrike and to make certain that this one was out of commission.  Looking at the dwarf's face left no doubt that he would no longer harry innocent travelers. 
    As Angus picked up Thunderstrike, he became aware of the sound of movement behind him.  He whirled around and the sight that greeted him made him momentarily wonder if he had hit his head during one of his tumbles.  The dwarf he had just laid out was on his hands and knees.  Well, that is not quite right.  The dwarf's head, hands, arms and upper body were still visible, but in the place where his lower torso and legs should have been, were the legs and backside of a large, leathery skinned animal and the transformation appeared to be continuing up his body.  In spite of the absolute impossible nature of what Angus was observing, he knew that this dwarf was changing into something else and it only took him a second to figure out what that something else was going to be.  This dwarf was becoming a very powerful animal called a Ronstaa.  A Ronstaa is a large, extremely strong, impossibly ill-tempered beast with a hide that is almost impenetrable and an eight inch horn capable of piercing solid granite.  Others in Angus's place might have been incapacitated by disbelief or fear, not Angus.  He was as quick-minded as he was skilled as a warrior.  He knew his only chance was to end this transformation.  He charged forward and with a mighty swing struck the only remaining dwarvish feature, his head.  This ended, not only the transformation, but the Keep's vengeance.  The last marauder was dead.  In death, started to revert back to dwarvin form, but stopped short just shy of his waist, leaving an abomination of nature, half-Ronstaa, half-dwarf.