The boar materialized briefly at the center of the square, eyes glowing unnaturally bright, a pulse rolling out from it like a wave, and suddenly half the squads froze or turned, weapons lifting toward familiar faces.
"I think it is messing with their heads somehow." Grayson yelled. "Stop them. Use non-lethal means if you can, don't kill your own!"
The squads struggled desperately, those still in control dodging attacks, disarming rather than striking, shouting names, pleading.
"It's me, look at me!" Craydon cried as he wrestled a sword from his brother Raydon's hand. He did not want to use too much force because Raydon was his younger brother, basically a kid at twenty.
He had enlisted straight out of high school. He had never truly seen combat. This was his first serious mission. If his brother died on his watch, he would not forgive himself.
