As one, the nagas slithered in closer to their wounded leader, instantly erecting magical barriers in front of themselves. Using their heightened magical senses, they focused in on the eerie buzzing heading their way. Similar in form to wasps, but with one long pointed tooth, seeming almost way too big for their bodies, especially in flight, the swarm circled around the trapped nagas, one of their number occasionally attacking the shield, a sharp electrical discharge and singed wings the cost of doing so.
Much closer to the entrance, the one which the group of nagas had spent many hours trying to open, the separated naga slithered silently through the darkness, encouraged at the thought of being so close to getting out, determined to barricade the door from the other side once he'd done so. Poking his head around a corner, he was rewarded with the outline of the outer door to the basement in the distance, backlit from the light outside. Making a madcap dash for it, he abruptly drew up as a darkened, four legged shadow stepped into his path. About four feet tall, and looking more than a little sorry for itself, the rays of light from beyond the door did just enough to illuminate the creature in all its splendour. Wary at first, that is until it became apparent to the naga exactly what creature, still shrouded by shadows, he was dealing with.
'A unicorn,' he thought to himself.
"Hello little fella," he whispered through the darkness, all the time snaking slowly towards its shady profile.
Stamping its feet gruffly, the foal let loose a little grunt, causing the naga to smile at the thought of having some good news for the maniac Manson. Unicorns were rare, rarer than rare. The fact that the dragons had some incarcerated down here boded well. Their magical powers were legendary, with numerous potions and possibilities available from their extracts. Sliding to a halt, the naga reached out with one hand to stroke the unicorn's mane. Nervously the unicorn shied away, understandably really, turning around a little to face the very pleased with himself naga. It was then that the pale beams of light, seeping through the door out of the basement revealed the real silhouette of the beast. Not one horn on top of its head, but two, something that changed the very nature of the being a hundredfold. Immediately, the naga slinked backwards, desperate to get away, but the ra-hoon, as that's what it was, was having none of it. Incisors bared, it stalked after the naga, the terrifying tapping of its hooves on the cold metal floor signalling impending doom. Petrified and desperate, the naga shimmied one way and then darted the other, hoping against hope that the beast was dumb enough to fall for a very over the top dummy, and that he could get out and close the door behind him. Not a hope. The ra-hoon whirled with the grace and speed of a stallion, clamping its fierce teeth around the naga's scaly tail, about two metres from the end.
"Aaaarrrrgggghhhhh!" screamed the naga in agony, trying to wriggle free.
With a snarl and a cunning look that gave away not only its intelligence, but something of its devilish nature, the ra-hoon crunched down, severing the naga's tail from its squirming body. Shaking the tail free, tossing it ten metres in the air as it did so, the unicorn lookalike bore down on its prey. With no way to balance now, the naga toppled over, trying to access all its magic for what little it would be worth.
'Everyone knows that ra-hoon are immune to any kind of magic, don't they? What the hell are they doing here, in the council building?' were the last thoughts the naga ever had, before a group of much smaller ra-hoon trotted out of the shadows and began feasting for all they were worth.
Their leader strewn on the floor in the middle of them, the party of nagas were holding their own against the deadly nifoloa. The individual that had attacked their leader had been suitably blasted into smithereens by a crackling bolt of green lightning, preventing any more damage being taken from inside the magical shield that they all now shared. Currently the conscious nagas were having a telepathic discussion about just how they were going to get their leader back to the entrance. They'd pretty much just decided that they'd need to take out all the attacking nifoloa, something they thought was pretty much doable, when trouble started appearing on all sides.
The junction, or more like crossroads, that they were situated in the middle of, had just become a magnet for half a dozen species, hungry, desperate, down on their luck, and angry about having had the world they knew and loved torn away from them. Stumbling upon two enemies (the nagas looking like a prolific source of food) brawling pushed all the right buttons on their internal fight or flight decision making process. Flight was never really an option.
Half a dozen snarling wolves bounded towards the struggle, their fluffy blue manes ruffling as they took one last flying leap, the sound of their jaws snapping at the nifoloa echoing off into the darkness. Looking out from behind their magical shields, the nagas were unable to believe what they were seeing.
One of the wolves that had hung back was just about to join the rest of its pack, when four thick, meaty, brown scaled hands whipped it up off the ground, causing it to howl like a banshee briefly, before trying to strike out at its attacker with its claws and needle sharp teeth, to little or no effect. The grinning, prehistoric looking primate rolled its eyes, before snarling right into the face of the helpless beast. Its massive scaled muscles rippled as it tore each of the wolf's legs off, one by one, only to discard them and move in closer to where the real action was.
The sound from the fight was off the scale now. Buzzing, howling, snapping, clacking, the sound of breaking bones and agonising screams were like a beacon in the dark. The creatures contained here weren't timid and shy, but the worst of the worst the mythical world had to offer. That's why they were there. Most of them liked nothing more than a good fight and had no concept of losing. To them, this was why they lived. For the nagas at the centre of it all, things were just going from bad to worse, despite the fact that they were safely holed up behind their magical barriers.
As one of the wolves swallowed a nifoloa whole, and was about to look for the next one, a giant pincer ripped a swathe of its stomach open to reveal blood and internal organs. It slumped to the floor, barely able to pant, let alone call for help, as the scorpion men moved forward together, their pincers weaving in front of them, all the time nipping at the buzzing enemies in the air surrounding them.
In the recesses of one of the paths, just back from the main event, the scaled apes had been set upon by the frighteningly vicious winged lions known as the pixiu. At first the apes had thought nothing of the flying monstrosities, that is until in one fell swoop, one of the beasts had torn off half an arm at the elbow, biting clean through the primate's protective scales. This had sent the group into a wild frenzy, causing them to exact revenge. One of the pixiu had been downed by two apes working together, one throwing the other high up into the air when one of the creatures had dared to try and attack again. The sheer weight of the ape had brought the creature down and, while not defenceless on the ground, far from it, there were now three apes, rolling around beating the living daylights out of it.
Amidst the chaos of battle proper, two-headed eagles joined in the fun, constantly bombing the nagas' shield as they tried to pick off a nifoloa or two. One or two had been successful, while most had just been harmlessly turned away by the magic.
Inside the shield, things had just gotten worse, if that were possible.
"He's stopped breathing," said one, from down by the leader's side.
"I don't care about him," shouted one of the others. "You need to get back up here and help us reinforce these shields."