The Proving Grounds (you watch)

You decide it would be best to observe them in action, this would increase your understanding of both how functional your formations were and how capable your forces are. In addition it would allow you to see your group leaders capabilities so that you could better utilize them in battle. Besides, what would it benefit your people if you were to intervene only to save the weak? The only acceptable reason to leap into action would be to protect the future of your people, but the children were safe at least for now. As for those who are fully grown, if they prove to be incapable of handling themselves then they would be better off dying here.

From a safe distance you carefully observe the groups. Your group of fighters has merged with the second group and is separated from the third and fourth groups which have also merged. The fifth group is isolated from the other groups and surrounded. The group leader closest to you is Zeitsya, who is currently keeping about a dozen spiders at bay with an odd weapon. A closer look provides further information, on one end of a cord that looks to be made of woven leather strips hangs a sizable sphere of green granite with a hole in its center that mounts it upon the cord. This weapon is then swung in wide arcs at her opponents after it has gathered momentum from being swung freely in the air. Each arc of this weapon reliably dispatches two or three spiders at a time and keeps the spiders at a safe distance from Zeitsya, who appears to be humming to herself as she fights. When a single spider manages to make it past her initial radius of attack, she immediately adjusts the length of her cord to reduce the distance of her arc and eliminate the threat. You watch closely as each pass of the sphere connects violently with its targets, striking each with calculated precision. Although it is not the most courageous weapon you have seen, it is quite effective in her hands. The fact that it allows her to keep a moderate distance from her enemies while providing her with versatility is proof enough that it is the right weapon for her. Even over the din of battle you can hear her voice. She doesn't seem to have the same zeal for battle that you are used to seeing in your kind, the song that she hums appears to be a sad one with long drawn out notes. Instead of her usual cheery disposition she appears to be quite pensive, her attractive smile replaced with a blank expression you are not accustomed to seeing on her face. This in no way diminishes her allure, to the contrary you find yourself imagining her as your mate. Her earth-colored tartan rides slightly up her backside giving you peek at her firm little ass, but your attention is quickly drawn away.

You turn your gaze to Rigga who is in the process of cutting a gory swath through the teeming mass of spiders before her toward Inslod with your group in tow. She was truly a sight to behold, weaving adeptly between foes. While everyone else appears to be moving quite slowly, due to your Riastrad, Rigga almost appears to be moving at a normal pace by comparison. She rushes from kill to kill with startling efficiency, every movement perfectly methodical and lethal. The mere sight of her stirs insatiable passions within you, passions that she will certainly learn to appreciate. Her kills are concise and thorough, if not unnecessarily so. She seems prone to performing two or even three fatal strikes where one would be sufficient, this however ensures that her target stays down permanently. Her obsidian knives are the perfect reflection of her own fighting style, they are fast, they are flexible, and they are irrefutably lethal. Her every move brings certain and immediate **** to everything in her path, her lithe body easily allows her to exploit even the smallest vulnerabilities in her enemies to their fullest measure. The first two groups, including Zeitsya, follow her closely and eagerly dispatch any creature lucky enough to be spared from her onslaught. Seeing her covered in the blood of her enemies does things to you that you can't possibly describe, and it is with much difficulty that you move on to watch your next group leader.

Hjalund is separated from his group and is surrounded entirely by spiders, each step isolates him further from the rest of your numbers. This does not seem to bother him any, as he eagerly lashes out at the mob surrounding him. Using a simple spear he expertly thrusts outward into the spiders here and there, impaling each arachnid before withdrawing his spear quickly and launching it again into the next foe. Slowly but surely the spiders close in on him, then at the last moment he buries his spear deep into a spiders carapace in a downward thrust that manages to practically nail the spider to the ground, and draws a new weapon. He brandishes an odd one-handed, wedge-like oaken club that resembles a tapered triangular prism with its smaller end formed into a rounded grip. The effect of this weapon is all the more devastating because the blunt **** of the weapon is magnified exponentially by its unusual shape. The impact of the weapon breaks through the spiders armored body as easily as a regular club cracks an egg, but even more impressive is the skill with which Hjalund utilizes this club, back and forth he swings with incredible speed and ****. His attacks seem to leap from target to target dealing unavoidable **** to whatever it touches in a single blow. Unlike Rigga who is most comfortable dealing multiple wounds, Hjalund easily obliterates each foe in turn with a single strike. Even though he is having to fight from all sides he doesn't seem discouraged in the slightest. When the first spider finally manages to sink its fangs into his thigh you see a slight smile curl up at the edge of his lips, which strikes you as truly strange considering his generally stoic nature. Subsequently he receives several smaller injuries, none of which seem to affect him at all besides widening his smile. Even though the Ardri have a natural fondness for battle, it is quite unusual to see such bloodlust even amongst your kind. Even through the noise of battle, through the shouts of your army, you can hear him laughing quietly under his breath. Your observations are unsettling to say the least, but there is nothing about him which seems treacherous in the slightest. In the end you suppose it is good that he enjoys combat, just like the rest of your forces, he will likely be seeing a lot of it in the times to come.

You turn your attention to Inslod who is now commanding more than half of your army. In the absence of Hjalund, the third group had merged with Inslod's fourth group and together they formed an effective defensive perimeter around the children. Inslod was currently giving a set of instructions to several men, mainly orders to try and carve a path through the spiders to connect the third and fourth groups to Rigga and Zeitsya. In the face of battle Inslod's expression was completely unchanged, he displayed the same amount of calm and composure that one might expect of seasoned general or tactician. All of this you had expected from a him, what you had not expected however was for him to reinforce the perimeter by joining it himself. With a handful of spears he made his way to front lines, casting small throwing spears here and there to pierce his foes. Soon only one spear remained in his hand, it was an exceptionally long spear tipped with a single thin bristlebear quill. You aren't sure how he got the quill since he wasn't from the mountains, but the application of it as weapon was ingenious. The hairs were incredibly durable and wickedly sharp, but also lightweight. Inslod made good use of this spear as he rapidly jabbed it outward into clusters of the spiders, impaling two or three of them with each stroke and easily withdrawing the spear from his kills due to the smoothness of the quill. Each extension of his spear meant the **** of multiple enemies, his carefully aimed thrusts were a testament to his skill witha spear. Though his expression had not changed you could tell that he did simply not enjoy the battle, he seemed to regard it with the same disdain that a child feels toward chores, finding it both necessary and tedious.

Lastly your gaze falls upon Garran and the fifth group. Much to your surprise the group seemed to be cooperating well, even if said cooperation appeared a bit ****. You feel a strong sense of pride in the Mountain Clans when you see the spider corpses piled up around them. Garran himself is grinning broadly and drooling profusely, you assume this is due to the feast he must see set before him. Unlike the other leaders he is quite vocal as he fights. Besides the frequent feral growl and excited shout, you can clearly hear him taunting the creatures. "Oh come now ya wee bastards! I don't have all day!" He shouts as he swings his club in broad arcs. Each swing of his two handed stone club connects with several spiders and crushes both limbs and shells thoroughly in the process. His attacks, though to most they would appear crazed, are impeccably well timed and the momentum from each strike is fluidly redirected into the next blow to conserve energy. Only one spider has so far managed to evade Garran's club long enough to get close to him. This particular spider was dealt with swiftly, however, when Garran drove his heel through its face. You aren't certain what has impressed you more, his success in holding the fifth group together, or his physical strength. Certainly he was no match for your current strength but it would take an Auroch to stomp through a Pine Widow's carapace like that.

All in all you are pleased with the performance of both your formations and your group leaders. Even in your absence they generally managed to effectively cooperate with the exception of Hjalund, although his performance in single combat was truly impressive. Just as you decide it is time to join the battle and turn the tide, a deep and powerful growl rumbles through the air. There is no question as to its origin, it was the indubitable call of an exceptionally large Raghik, its source could be no more than a mile or two off. Upon hearing the sound, the spiders abandon their fight and scurry off into the woods hurriedly as though they were being chased by **** itself, obviously deciding they were better off hungry than dead. You cannot blame them for this, a Raghik large enough to make a call like that is certainly worth running from. 'Perhaps the spiders have the right idea.' You think.