Upon hearing the command a feral grin appeared upon Snarnorgul maw, it bent back it's head as it raised it's massive pincers into the air and loosed such a howl it might have awakened the dead if such a thing was possible. The trees shook and like a wave leaves fell away and birds scattered by the hordes, even the elves and centaurs in the midst of battle could hear, and even 'feel' the hate and blood-lust in that cry almost as if it was a tangible force. Horses in the town bucked and went mad upon hearing it, and the beasts of the field scattered like fallen glass. The cry chilled men to the bone and even the toughest warrior was unsettled by it, wondering what manner of demon the overlord had sent to reap their lives. 
 
Snarnorgul head shot back down in the direction of the heavy foot stomps that still shook the ground. He sniffed long and hard, as if savoring the scent, mixed with blood and the frequent smell of pine and wood. As the echo of the roar whined down, Snarnorgul stooped forward as it readied itself for the chase to follow. Then it took off with a great bounding step, shaking the earth with a mighty hoof, then another. It crashed into the trees at the edge of the clearing, knocking them down as if they were mere weeds and crushed them under foot. Snarnorgul huffed and lowered his head as he battered through the bush, seeking to gain on it's prey. The bear had a decent lead on the Tanar'ri, and it was hardly faster then it's fellow behemoth. Still it drove forward like a storm, making such a noise as it stampede forth like the flood gates had been opened. 

There was no stealth, no finesse, or subtlety to his charge nor finesse in Snarnorgul's movements. Indeed it was to glad to even think of the noise it was making as it surged forward, now moving around the speed a man could sprint, though taking up much more ground with his stride. It felt good to be on the hunt again, to feel the rustle of wind pass it's ears, the sound of it's feet stomping the ground. Oh, and the smell of blood in the air! Oh! how it loved it! Great drops of saliva mixed with acid dripped freely from Snarnorgul's mouth now. Thinking of the feast soon to come. He barreled into a clearing where part of the battle was taking place. The elves had since taken note of the beasts foot strides, and were already seeking shelter. The centaurs sensed the foulness in the air no doubt, being attuned to the wild as they were. But they saw their hated enemy give ground, and thinking they were fleeing had given chase. Just then Snarnorgul burst through the treeline, sending pieces of wood mixed with splinters into the air. The Centaurs had not time to get out of the way, though some turned and ran while other fired missiles in his direction. 

Centaurs would have easily outrun him normally, but he had come upon them too suddenly for them to get a good running start, and he trampled them underfoot. Arrows struck his tough outer hide, yet he seemed to not even take notice. They fell away harmlessly striking as they did his toughest sheet of protection, where bone meld with flesh. He leaped forward into a roll that crushed more combatants under him before he rolled to his feet again, the arm of a centaur hanging from his jaws now. He smashed into the opposite treeline leaving as quickly as he had come, arrows following his retreat. The missiles were shot wildly however, fear robbing the archers of their skill momentarily. All this Snarnorgul ignored, for it hunted far more worthy prey. 
 
Still it cursed it's slow progress, for at this rate unless his prey halted it would reach the town first, as it was still by Snarnorgul's reckoning, a league away, roughly 680 feet ahead. It loosed another roar, this not as grande as before but still fearful in it's echo. Snarnorgul reached the rocky outing of a stream, a river no doubt to lesser beings. It glanced upon a large boulder near the border of the waters on the opposite bank. Crashing through the water, the icy drops cold on it's scaly hide, it seized the rock with a upper right pincer, as it passed it. It's sharp eyes just made out the great bear through the gaps in the trees ahead, indeed the path was not hard to find as the bear had left a great amount of ruin in it's passing. 

Then it threw the great stone in a high arc before continuing to charge forth. The stone was aimed a little ahead of Snarnorgul prey, who himself had chanced a guess at the right amount of force, but it sailed true and might intercept the bear as it came toward the town proper, falling from above if the Bear continued at the same heading. To land with the force of a small car. Snarnorgul did not expect the boulder to do much harm, but it might slow it down and force it to face him. Anything to slow it so Snarnorgul could rip it to shreds. As it continued it did however notice another scent, indeed one that had been unnoticed so enthralled Snarnorgul had been in the hunt. Yes, no doubt it was the devil elf! Snarnorgul did not so easily forget the scent of the overlords most trusted allies. It's pace increased slightly in anticipation, for wherever that elf went death surely followed. 

Fate had not smiled kindly on this shanty of a human town; for two great calamities would it face in but one day. Snarnorgul grin widened.