Cen'taure

"...Chasin' them feral knife ears through the woods found 'em in an open clearing at the base of th' ravine. Now, ridin' them stags and such make the fairy folk impossible to run down in the wood. But an open field with stone at their backs ag'in a hun'erd heavy horse? Them soldiers could smell the blood in the air. Seemed like them pillaging wild-ones had finally made a mistake an' they were ready to make it hurt. The forest quaked with their thunderin' battle charge, lances level an' eyes full o' fire.

But humans never payed much mind to elf-friends. An' out the tree line roared the Cent'rs. An age-passed mix o' horse and man, they say. Monstrous in size. There were but a hand full, but there might as well been an whole rutting army. Swinging swords nearly long as a man's tall, they charged into the cavalry's flanks, cleaving horse an' rider alike in a single swing. The line broke like spinner straw un'er iron-shod boots..."

Bergstag (about the "Ambush Twice-turned")