[h2][color=af9d80][b]Roger Falkner and Shortclaw[/b][/color][/h2]

The shock of Roger's flanking maneuver appeared to have worn off.  The attack had startled and shaken them, but perhaps having assessed that they had the numerical advantage, several cultists readied their weapons and approached the griffin from three sides.  Roger counted at least three of them, closing in from three directions.  It was an inherent disadvantage from attacking from behind the enemy lines, that one might find themselves surrounded and without support.  Such a multi-directional assault might throw off a frightened, wild griffin enough to bring it down, but Shortclaw was no wild beast, nor was he alone in this.

The griffin dropped the mangled corpse from his beak and swiped at the right-most cultist with his front talons.  The other two charged, intent on striking at Shortclaw while his beak and talons were occupied elsewhere.  These foes would be the rider's responsibility to deal with.  Roger lurched out of his saddle and thrust his spear at one of them, stabbing into the cultist's chest and physically forcing them back.  The second cultist managed to get closer, but as they raised their axe to attack, the weapon knocked was from their hand by a kick from Roger's armored sabaton.  In truth, Roger had actually been aiming for his foe's jaw with the kick, but Shortclaw's movements as he swiped and bit caused the attack to be slightly off.  It didn't matter, though- a moment later, Roger's spear withdrew from the first cultist's torso and was planted in the second one's throat.

As both of his opponents fell to the ground, alive but incapacitated and likely fatally injured, Roger turned back to his mount, its beak and claws freshly bloodied from tearing apart the third cultist.  [color=af9d80][i]Shortclaw certainly knows how to make a mess,[/i][/color] Roger mused as he briefly down the foe's gruesomely lacerated body, before signaling for Shortclaw to push towards where Velvetica was- and cut down enemies caught in the middle.  The more these foes were sandwiched, Roger reasoned, the more likely they'd lose their nerve and break, right?