Ludwig rushed in first. Two of the Lizardmen were retching right in front of him. He ignored them to look for proper prey.
The riverbank stank like a latrine and a slaughterhouse had agreed to share a room; sour bile, wet earth, and the sharp metallic tang of fear mixed together until it was hard to tell what was worse.
The two lizardmen in front of him weren't even looking up, one had both hands planted in the mud, shoulders convulsing as if his spine wanted out, and the other was folded over on itself, tail twitching uselessly. They were obstacles more than enemies, bodies occupying space in a narrow, ugly choke point.
The alarms tolled in the settlement the moment they reached the areas where the torches lit the ground, they've been spotted, but at the same time those alarms didn't sound properly.
