***Group A***

The whinny of the horse woke Brisa from her sleep. She had been so warm and comfortable that waking was quite miserable. Blearily she looked around and realized that none of the others had heard it. She assumed then that she had imagined it but the whinny came again, along with a yelp that sounded like someone kicking a dog. 

Up, covers thrown to the side, Brisa raced to the window and was about to throw open the wood slatted shutters. A moment’s hesitation made her think; what if what was outside was not friendly. They weren’t among the moors any longer but nasty things could still wander the night. So instead she peaked through a knothole in the wood. 

What she saw terrified her. Two huge creatures, not human but walking like humans and wielding weapons, were attacking the war horse. They looked like dogs but were not. They looked like humans but were not. It was terrifying for the young girl but when the horse spun on his hind hooves and caught one of the creatures square in the chest with his fore-hoof she realized that it was very real. She thought she could even smell the blood. She had never seen a fight, not like this, and it was so surreal in the moonlight that for a few crucial moments she stood mesmerized by the tableau going on outside. She never saw the third of the dog-like-creatures lift a nose, sniff the air, and point towards the building she was hiding in. Nor did she see the humans slinking through the darkness towards her. 

Only when the door slammed open with a noise that would startle the dead did she realize that she and the others were trapped. Patchy moonlight silhouetted the men in the doorway, 5 of them holding weapons but the play of shadows and light rendered them too indistinct to notice. 

Brisa screamed belatedly and looked wildly for an escape. The raiders hadn’t spoken but it was plain they were not intent on helping the children. Indeed as that thought crossed her mind she heard them burst out laughing and making crude disgusting comments to one another about taking the children slaves, and much much worse. Brisa realized the men blocked the only exit from the building. They would have to get past them somehow, or climb out the windows which would dump them in the battle of horse and gnolls. Frying pan and fire. But which was which…

***

The gnolls, three of them, circled and feinted at the war horse. A lesser animal would have been dead in minutes, if not seconds, but not the knights great animal. Instead it kept eyes on all three, using hooves and teeth to keep the creatures at bay. Finally with a triumphant whinny it spun gracefully, in a move so quick even the gnolls couldn’t follow him. It’s rear legs kicked back and caught one of the gnolls sending him flying end over end into a stone wall, a sickening crunching thump filled the air when the gnoll hit. It slid down the wall and lay still and the warhorse, uncertain of the odds and lacking its true master to guide it, took to flight down the road, instinct guiding it towards the only home it knew, Waterdeep many days away. It’s hooves thundered in the distance and the two remaining gnolls let it go as they nursed their own wounds. One had broken shoulder, another multiple cracked ribs and a nasty bite on its fore-arm. A knights mount was a truly formidable adversary. Instead they turned to help the bandits plunder the buildings wanting to seek out easier prey. They stalked, pacing like restless cats, towards the building where the children were cornered.