As they drew closer, Athgar could finally see the dog-like face and the serrated teeth that lined their sizable mouths as they screeched. The crew of the Marianne ran about, seeking shelter as the horde descended.

One rygaur flew too low and became entangled in the rigging. As it struggled, its claws ripped and cut, severing the ropes that held it. Athgar sent an arrow into its torso, causing it to fall to the deck, but as it did so, it flailed about, ripping the sail as it descended.

A scream from the aft end of the boat alerted them that the sailor who manned the tiller was under attack, a creature's claws ripping his arms as he tried in vain to fend off the monster. Natalia sent ice hurtling towards the rygaur, striking it and knocking it back against the aft railing, but the spell was so powerful that the rudder man also took a portion of the damage, falling to the deck, unconscious or dead.

Another flew by, snapping ropes with its teeth as it passed. The main mast wobbled, its stabilizing lines no longer in place. With the tiller now unattended, the boat began to drift towards the river bank. There was a scraping sound as the hull hit the riverbed, and then the ship lurched, coming to a complete halt.

Athgar tumbled to the deck, the bow flying from his hands. A rygaur hovered over him, no longer constricted by the severed ropes. Athgar rolled onto his back, sending a jet of flame in the direction of the creature, striking it dead centre and knocking it back. No longer able to fly, it plummeted into the water, leaving a greasy smoke trail in the air.

Natalia, rushing forward to look after the injured tillerman, fell into the view of another creature. It swooped in low to the deck, intent on its prey. She spoke quickly, bringing forth the words of power and then suddenly a wall of ice appeared in front of her. The rygaur struck it full-on, breaking its neck, sending chunks of ice scattering across the deck.

Natalia spotted another creature preparing to attack, its eyes focused solely on its target. "Athgar!" she called out in alarm.

He rose to his feet, searching the sky as he did so. When his nemesis began its descent, he fired off another streak of flame, once again hitting dead centre. The creature fell, its body alight until it splashed into the river. Athgar tore his gaze from his target, frantically looking about, but the battle was over. The rygaurs, dissuaded from their meal, had turned and were flying off to the east.

"Where in the Saints did those things come from?" asked Captain Howe.

“According to the Orcs, they usually live much further to the east,” offered Athgar. “Something must have driven them westward, and then Natalia’s spell caught their attention.”