He stopped to a skid on the ground and whirled, rearing up with a swing of his wooden mace in a vertical arc and bringing it down on the skull of the first fool to turn his head around. In two more rapid swings, his friend was down on the ground, bleeding. The three in the air quickly corrected their course and descended upon him. He was swarmed as the three griffons clawed, kicked, punched, and pulled at his wings.