“Off! Off I said!” The enraged voice echoed through the forest, carrying throughout the crisp air for quite a few miles in each direction. Birds had alighted from trees, small furry things scurried to their burrows, and larger hooved beasts carried away to quieter and safer feeding grounds. The frustrated female voice was accompanied by the felling of small trees, breaking and uprooting of several bushes and, above all, by the shrill cackle of Brownies.<br/><br/>Seven, in total, were left from the pack of thirteen who had decided to have a little mid-morning fun with the human who had been ambling past their burrow. Nasty little beasts, the shriveled Brownies looked as though there had once been some unholy union between a pygmy and a potato.  They didn’t have any form of unionized civilization, they sure as hell didn’t know what personal hygiene was, but they did possess a natural understanding of and appreciation for humor. This, however, was usually one sided. Their side, to be specific.<br/><br/>Mara bellowed another frustrated growl as her eyes were suddenly covered by two grimy little hands as the Brownie stayed firmly adhered to her head no matter what amount of tossing and shaking she did. Carrying on like a befuddled bull, she was twisting and kicking, three brownies on one arm, two on the other, one on her head, and one that was wrapped around her left leg in an attempt to keep her knee from bending. Still, she held onto the short sword in her hands, thankful for the thickness of her leather armor. Sure, it was badly worn and hardly of any notably quality, but their sharp little fangs had yet to make it through though it bore evidence of their attempts.<br/><br/>She finally planted her feet and flung her head forwards, managing to knock the Brownie that had been bronco riding her onto the ground. Ceasing her opportunity, the warrior moved to strike. Her muscles aligned, the weapon became an extension of her own arms and- whack! A mighty blow was unleashed. All of this took around two point seven seconds to unfold. The average reaction for a Brownie, for absolutely anything, was around point five. So every time Mara lined up a blow and let it go, the Brownie was already on the other side of her, up her back, and gnawing on her  braided hair (several chunks of which were already littering the ground), as it was currently.<br/><br/>She trod the straw colored strands beneath her feet further into the dirt that had been bothered and churned with the battle as she fought for another good position. Her mind was constantly countering their motions by trying to balance herself and chuck them off at the same time; a hard feat when there were so many independent and agile things attempting to bring one down. More accustomed to fighting larger creatures, and usually a lower number of them, the muscular woman found herself a bit out of her league.<br/><br/>Having come hunting Minotaur, she had traveled for nearly a month and a half to reach the forests near the base of Ahyr’s southernmost mountains. It was unfamiliar land that was a good deal denser and populated with a greater variety of creatures than the middle providence of Elix where she had come from. There the most numerous creatures were humans, though they seemed to cause enough trouble for themselves without the aid of wild beasties. There were, of course, some creatures but nothing like she’d faced here. From being faced with spiders the size of a small shield to a deer that was, apparently, a carnivore, it had been one gigantic learning experience for the woman and, unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be ending any time soon. Brownie 101 seemed to be a rather lengthy study, as she had been struggling with them for nearly an hour and a half.<br/><br/>In a stroke of genius, Mara suddenly collapsed on the ground and rolled, sending the Brownies skittering in every direction as the cursed in their vile little language that was as soothing as an infant’s shrieks. She was instantly back up and recovered to her feet, brown gaze steaming with thoughts of what she’d like to do to those little things that were now running in a circle around her. She planted her feet and her grip tightened on her blade; she’d let them make the first move this time. Body tense with frustration, the rather compact warrior stood still for the first time since the little war had begun. The word compact, itself, came to mind almost instantly though the woman wasn’t any shorter than your small female but something was distinctly more bulky to her figure. She did indeed have a good bit of muscle, and her figure did nothing to hide that, but the way she wore it wasn’t like most female warriors who often either turned out tawny or hefty. No, she was somewhere in between at a more natural medium, as if this was the way she looked regardless if she had fought one battle during her life or one hundred in a few months. Either way, it left a strange air about her that often made others give her a second glance.<br/><br/>However, the time for standing still had come to an end as, all at once as though they had a single mind (which was a matter of debate between some members of the scholarly persuasion) the Brownies lunged at her again. Like static filled pieces of filth, they instantly managed to cling to the woman and thus began another round on the Mara-go-round.<br/><br/>Though she would never have been one to admit it, the poor half-dwarf was desperately in need of a little, slightly more agile than herself, help.