The jungle was not merciful to the weak, or those unable to work together. 

Angry barks filled the air, with intermitted yips and yaps. The kobolds at the outer perimeters was already swarmed, though mostly from the birds rushing in a feeding frenzy rather than attacking them directly. The staggered lines hit them first, thinning their numbers, but there was still too much for the kobolds to handle, the final shield wall bristling with the better equipped chief and his retinue looking to be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers.

But that was why they were here. Spikers of a newly formed group, gathered for their abilities and their resonance with the strange magical objects.

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The elf was classically trained, and certainly mere birds weren't any match for him. Beautiful arced swings flashed out, slicing though their small bodies with ease. In numbers however, they were approaching faster than he could kill. He took a hits here and there, from several birds, but with his robe taking the brunt of the damage, he would probably only be bruised if that. 

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Amitha was less refined, simply charging into the fray like an angry goat, swinging wildly at the crazed birds. Perhaps not the best of tactics, but it worked well enough for the birds as she simply plowed through them. Sturdy hammer broke bird bones easily, and swinging around another weapon, even if it be the body of another bird, ensured that any she hit with it will at least be stunned for a moment, easy prey for any nearby kobolds. Effective, but without a doubt a painful one as several birds managed to kick and bite her. 

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The minotaur was barely phased by any of the birds' attacks, with his sheer mass and his chitinous coverings. Blood and gore splattered in a crescent arc as he swung his massive stone axe through the horde. It was enough that the kobolds fighting around them tried to give him a wide berth. Like a rock against which the waves crashed, his resolute presence was enough to cow even the frenzied birds, slowing down the rush in his area. 

Tash didn't fare as well however. Falling down onto the mud after killing one, he was immediately trampled upon by the horde of birds with no more resistance. At least the birds were more interested in the crops than actually tearing him apart. 

The tide was holding for the moment, but it now seemed that the farm was more in danger of being trampled rather than being eaten by this point, as the sheer number of their enemy threatened to simply wash over them.

[b]"Snagtoothed bill. Grows frenzied when small flocks amass, triggering a change to lead them to devour everything they could before breeding and laying eggs before dying."[/b]

A clear voice rang out from behind the Spikers, as a snagtooth flew through the air, crashing onto a group of them so hard their bodies ruptured. 

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A small figure just a bit taller than the average kobold walked carefully past the chief's shield wall. 

[b]"Killing them all would be a monumental endeavor for this few men. Fire would both frighten and repel them."[/b]

A helpful revelation, and indeed there were a few extinguished campfire as they entered the farm, but those now was filled with angry honking snagtooths smothering any chance of it being ignited in the chaos. Would it be worth leaving their front and risking the kobold lines be overwhelmed to light up the fires, or would they just stay and try to weather out the horde of birds? After all, surely there can't be [i]that[/i] many birds?