The Rughid cavalry leapt out of the hills, the roars of the soldiers matching those of the mounts and the enemies ahead. The Meratids were caught between the kobold worg archers and the dracon formation. Merat must have recognized this, because immediately they began to scatter, some horrors running away from the fighting, a very few leaping at their foes with renewed vigor. Rughoi was not about to let any of them escape. He, in his blind rage, broke off from his support, and charged directly at Merat before he could rejoin the bulk of his forces. However, the closer Rughoi got, the more the doubts began to seep yet again into his head. Surely, he wouldn't be able to take a monstrosity like that himself. He focused, blocking out the thoughts. His arm moved without volition of his conscious mind, and let loose an arrow that sailed through the air and struck Merat in an arm. It didn't seem to do much damage, but it did force Merat to notice him. The fears came back in a torrent, and Rughoi knew then just how big a mistake he made. Merat made an unreadable expression with one of his heads, and opened his mouths. Black smoke billowed out from them, and Rughoi knew on a base animal level that nothing good would come of it. He spurned his worg, though it didn't need much encouraging, and began running. The smoke followed no more than two paces behind him. Rughoi shot another arrow, but it sailed high and missed.

Merat picked himself up and began chasing after his little nuisance, but allowed him to get a bit of a head start first. He knew that Rughoi, even on the back of a larger animal, could not stay ahead him for long. Instead, he opened his mind, feeling at all the dracon mages in the crowd. He offered them a deal he doubted they would refuse. Every one of them got a simple message. Truce. Destroy the Rughids. The Meratids return to their home, and leave Traeton for the dracons.