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Adrenaline flowed through Laragorn’s body as he yanked his bow and an icy miarith arrow from his quiver. “Stay behind me,” he ordered Nora, standing between her and the shadows swarming the camp. Narrowing his eyes, he counted at least four before the fire was doused everything became too much of a darkened frenzy for him to discern the right shapes.

“DIE, YOU VILLAIN!!!” someone – Arla, probably – shouted as a glowing ball of fire exploded from somewhere to Lagoron’s left. He stroked the fletching of the arrow, pulling his fingers back just as they froze into searingly cold icicles. Pulling the bowstring to his cheek, he held his breath once and released, reaching backwards for a normal arrow before the first struck a bear (at least, he thought it was a bear) who had pinned Ian. Whitish spirals shot out as the arrow sank into the bear’s flesh and, before long, it was nothing more than a shrunken form with its last moments of terror still frozen on his face (<– anyone get that?).

“Behind you!” Nora shrieked.

Lagoron whirled and barely managed to get an arrow into the shape flying over Radiance’s panicked form before it collided with him. A yelp escaped its scaly-but-somehow-also-fuzzy self as claws raced towards Lagoron’s face. He nearly broke his neck as he dodged, but the claws thudded into the dirt by his face instead of into his eyeballs. He kicked the thing off of him – it was surprisingly light – and drew his knives, swirling them as he glanced over to see how everyone else was faring.

Arla was hurling taunts at her opponent as they circled, smoke rising from the humanoid-like creature’s shoulder. Jason’s face was drawn and serious as he tried to force the snakish-thing he fought into the firepit. Ian was recovering, Bramber was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Nora.

He was out of time to search. His shapeshifter was as fast as the elf and seemed to be able to see in the dark, as well.

This wasn’t going to end well.