Another soldier stepped toward Leto who looked more skilled than the last. He held a sword up high and his eyes narrowed at his foe. He was smaller than Leto by a head but he seemed to know his body better than the goatman. The hunter swung his sword from the side and Leto threw out his staff to bat it away, yet the blade nicked the black wood and he felt the stick seem to squirm under his grip. It was distracting and Leto wasn't read for the second swing that came in high at his side. On instinct Leto tried to turn and move out of the way but his new wide horns remained in the path of the swing. The blow wasn't enough to cut through his horns, that seemed unnaturally hard, but the force jerked Leto's head to an awkward angle and threw off his balance.
Leto leaned forward and hunched his back, his long fingers scraping the ground as he tried to adjust his balance. A second hunter was coming up from behind Leto, the man's footsteps causing the satyr's ear to twitch. Gritting his teeth, the goatman stepped forward to try and regain his footing while the first hunter raised the sword a third time. the cut fell straight down aimed at Leto's face but with a kick at the ground the satyr barreled into the hunter. The swing went wide and the hunter tried to adjust, the arcing blade catching Leto along the back in a painful but shallow line. He would live.
Leto planed his feet and looked back at the second hunter who'd scrambled up the hill. Another one with a sword but looking much less proficient, the whispers around him murmured of a hard life working fields and of sick children with not enough to eat. Narrowing his eyes, Leto swung his staff out at the man's torso intending to just knock him away. The staff squirmed again in his hand and the twisted end writhed as it touched the man. soon tendrils of black spread from the flailing end of the staff as it grabbed the man who screamed in surprise and terror. Leto was shocked too but his arm seemed to move on its own.
Sweeping the staff to the side the black tendrils tugged at the hunter and then hurled him through the air into a tree. Leto could hear the bark crack at the impact.
The oil black tendrils whipped around a second more before receding back into a single tentacle and then returning to its twisted wood shape. The satyr eyed the staff dubiously, unsure how to explain what just happened. Those had been Ivok's tendrils, he was fairly sure of that, and he'd gotten the staff from Ivok as well. But was that attack or whatever it was an act of the staff, Ivok, or his own will?
While Leto stopped to think, his focus disjointed for a moment, one of the hunters pulled back the string of his bow and launched a shot at the black goatman. Sharp pain pulled Leto's focus back to the present as an arrow pierced his left shoulder. Leto let out a low cry of pain and turned into the bleat of an animal. He reached for his shoulder but a sudden pull of force toppled him backwards and sent another cry of pain pouring from his lips. The arrow was stuck in the meat of his shoulder and attached to a long rope.
As the rope went taunt the goatman began to quickly scramble backwards in panic, trying to give the line any slack he could. Yet whoever held it seemed to be reeling in the rope as fast as Leto could drag himself back. Reached up with his free hand he hoped to break the shaft of the arrow and free himself when another pain blossomed at his wrist. It was really fortunate to be honest, an arrow hand been launched at his chest, but his rising arm had intercepted the attack. That did little to mollify Leto as he saw the line tied to this arrow as well snap straight. His eyes glanced to see the archer who loosed the arrow drop a bow and begin to pull with another man behind him. Leto's arm was dragged away from him while the arrow and line in his back continued to be pulled.
He let out another pained bleat as the two ropes pulled against him in different directions. Leto strained to pull his arm free but the scar along his wrist stung like fire and he felt the strength of his arm fail him. The two men hauled against the rope in opposition of the goatman and looked determined in their work. Panic dug into Leto's chest and caused his heart to race in fear, the staff at his feet forgotten, the two satyrs near him vanished, and the world reduced to a single moment of terror. He felt like an animal cornered and captured. Then came a new scream, the cry of a man, and suddenly the rope tugging at Leto's back was slack, the pressure gone. Leto lurched forward and grabbed the rope against his arm hauling against it with all his might. The two men hadn't been expecting the sudden change and stumbled forward. It wasn't much but it was enough, the goatman grabbed his black staff and bounded forward in two steps to meet the humans.
A horizontal swipe rewarded him with a loud crack of wood meeting skull, dropping one of the two like a stone. Next came the other, who was met with the head of Leto's staff pressing against his chest. The wood squirmed again as the oily black tendrils seeped across the hunter, they writhed and clung to him and the pressure from Leto's arm and height pushed him down. The man tried to swipe the tentacles away but they grew and spread until they covered his face, wiggling into his mouth and nose and eyes. After a second the tendrils receded back into the wood of the staff and the man lay still and dead on the ground. Leto didn't care, couldn't care, the panic still making his brain race and his lungs suck in air. His yellow eyes glanced around and he spied the remaining humans... along with the male Satyr standing over a fallen man. The satyr had a bloodied sword in his hand, apparently having taken up the weapon to help Leto.
The deformed goatman gave a small nod and looked away. How many more hunters were there he wondered... there had been seven in total. He knew it at once, the thought was in his mind as if it was something he had always known. He clearly recalled his arrival and a quick counting of everyone there yet knew he hadn't taken the time to note such facts when he first emerged from the woods. The memories came with calm eerie detachment. They didn't feel like Leto's thoughts. Was it Ivok? Was that being still sitting in Leto's mind watching. It didn't matter. Seven men, three satyrs. It wasn't impossible. Leto did a quick check of the area, the strange memory cooling his terror a bit. He had killed one human and knocked out two others. The young male satyr had killed one man. That left three more. Hefting his black staff in hand, the goatman aimed himself at two humans that were close, his steps long and near a small jump.
The last human was behind Leto but it seemed the young male satyr understood and blocked the way so that Leto wouldn't have to worry about an attack from behind. The two humans ahead of him seemed nervous but one took a moment to speak, his eyes starring warily at the black staff Leto held.
"Magic.... ye filthy beasts." he said with palpable disgust in his voice.
"I-it has magic?" The other man stammered, he held an axe in hand and seemed more timid.
"Bah, tricks and sorcery! Fear not, it's jus another animal!" He said with a sneer.
Leto disliked the words but the whispers about the man told a different story. While the human spoke of hate and dismissed the danger the shroud of hushed words Leto heard told him that the man was terrified and wanted nothing more than to flee. But he pressed on hoping that if he spoke the words loud and sure enough then they would be true. A clang of metal rang out behind Leto and he knew the fight had started between the satyr and hunter at his back. He couldn't waste too much time. Looking at the swordsman and axeman ahead of him, Leto took a small step forward and held up his staff in both hands as if it were a spear. He kept the end that seemed to release Ivok's tentacles aimed at them like a proper spear point.
"Let's kill it." The swordsman said as he slapped the axe holder on the back.
The swords man took a bold step forward which prompted the other man to move as well. Yet the swordsman held back after that, his bolster enough to drive his compatriot into the fray first. Leto met the axe with his staff, abusing his longer each to keep the man on the defensive and not give up any chance to be flanked. Yet Leto's wrist pained him as did his back shoulder, where the arrow shafts still protruded. The axe swung down and the staff knocked it back, the back and forth more even than Leto liked. He had been a trained soldier before but his body was unfamiliar, its proportions subtly wrong from his memories, and his injuries limited him in how much force he could counter with. In the end it was the swordsman who gave him the needed opening, moving to Leto's left the axeman shifted to open up space. Leto swung his staff to the side forcing the man to block and leaving his other side wide open.
Acting in the moment, Leto lifted a leg and kicked hard into the human's knee. The crunch was satisfying. The human dropped the ax and screamed loudly, but he went quiet when Leto jumped up and landed on him. One hoof on his chest and the other on his jaw and neck. The footing was uneven but the sudden vicious nature of the attack seemed to shock the swordsman enough that he lost his chance to take advantage of the opening to attack the goatman. Now it was just the swordsman and Leto. Stepping off the fallen human, Leto neared the sword wielder with menace. The blade shook in the man's hand but what really drew Leto's attention was the strange whisper forming around him. Or maybe it had been there the whole time but was just now visible. That same sense of detached observance filled Leto as he slowly understood it.
Leto started to walk toward the swordsman, who responded with a sudden scream and a swing of his sword. Yet Leto simply raised his staff and let the tendrils of the end writhed and entangle the human's sword arm. The blade fell to the dirt a second later as the human was pressed against a tree. He tried to turn his face away from the goatman who leaned in and sniffed at the terrified man. The whispers formed into something clear for Leto and he knew what to do next.
Leaning forward, Leto took a slow breath and spoke quietly into the man's ear.
Then the human started screaming.