Border Patrol; Ambushed in the Blight!

[Bella]

Lysira Walker Gaidar After the fighting was done and the animals slain, Lysira had swiftly moved through their small field of battle, grabbing the hafts of her arrows with her foot against the corpse and tearing them from their flesh. Time was always of the essence in the Blight, so she didn't stop to review the arrowheads after she had freed them from the corpses. She stuffed them in one of her saddlebags and then mounted up, riding off with the others to an outpost known as Heeth Tower.

Archers often being fortunate to not get hurt like the melee fighters, she had no need to see the healer and so she instead sought out some place to go over each of her arrows. She checked them from head to shaft to fletchings, discarding those that were too damaged for re-use and cleaning those that could be fired again. Waste not, want not... She couldn't be sure when she'd be somewhere to get more, and thus she didn't intend to be the bow-woman who ran out if she could help it.

Lysira joined the others in the dining room once that was done and she had checked on her mount in the stables. She ended up sitting across from Ji'dar Any, which she wasn't at all displeased with. She hoped to be joined by Ria as well. It wasn't that she didn't want to know the others and hoped to at least know them some before this was over, but she liked having some people around her that she could "talk" to easily; those who could understand her signs.

Ani was very proficient, following her swift hand gestures with ease and replying just as easily. Although once there was food and wine in front of them, the latter drunk very sparingly for a group of warders on the Blight Border, there wasn't much talking anyways. Eat and sleep when you could, because one never knew what might happen in this place.

[Bree]

The Next Morning...

Ubriel was mounted and idly stroking Peach's mane. Peach was standing with one hoof cocked up on its tip, relaxed and swishing her tail. The two of them had been ready for several minutes now. Breakfast had been an ordeal for Ubriel. Finally understanding why everything seemed to make her want to sick up while simultaneously feeling as if she could never get enough to eat was becoming a morning ritual. She had soothed her stomach with a little weak lemon tea and nibbled a bit of toast while surreptitiously asking the kitchen staff to wrap up a little meat and cheese and bread for everyone so that she wouldn't look too strange when she started nibbling at it a couple of hours into their ride. Assuming the flaming reek of the Blight lets my stomach settle enough to eat at all. She hoped she would be able to eat. She was not sure what her condition would do to her energy levels and she did not need to waver while in command. I am going to have to speak to Riahana. She has been through this before and if needs be, she can take over in my stead. Light...

Peach was glad that her girl had taken Healing for her wound. She was also glad that the stout man in the funny apron had added extra food to the saddle bag. Her girl was going to need it. Peach was excited to be getting back out on the road but at the same time she was content to rest and relax for a few more minutes before heading back out into that disturbing land. Those nasty creatures they had felled the day before were not a huge problem and had been overcome but she did not want her girl exposed to such things all the time.

Everyone else was mounting and the regular four-man patrol that they would be riding with today was receiving their final inspection. The captain of that patrol and Ubriel nodded to each other and urged their mounts forward together to hear the report from Tower Commander Savaro. "Mostly quiet overnight. There was a disturbance of Worms about five miles north. Very close but they moved past without ever turning. They were headed east so you shouldn't have any worry of running into them as you head west. Demien Tower is late with their morning check in by mirror flash but it happens from time to time..."

The Commander's report was cut off by a cry of, "Rider! Open the Gates!"

Commander Savaro turned on his heel and bellowed, "From which way!?"

He was already running for the gate when the reply came, "East!" Savaro's string of curses almost made even Ubriel blush. She understood though. She moved with Peach back to her people with a nod for the Patrol Captain who went back to his men.

The gates swung open and a lathered horse carrying a bruised and bloodied man in a sentry's uniform ran in. The gates were reversed almost immediately to close behind him. The horse went nearly the length of the courtyard before it could be stopped. Its eyes were wide white orbs of terror and it had an arrow caught in its mane that had barely missed puncturing its neck. It reared and screamed as tower men tried to take its halter. The bloody sentry on its back tried weakly to use the reins but could barely lift nearly ruined arms. One of the grooms, a massive man who had probably been a mountain in a former life, finally threw an arm over the horse's neck and an apron over its eyes. Still frisking slightly, it had no choice but to calm down. The sentry was pulled from the saddle as gently as could be managed.

"Report, man." Savaro was not gruff intentionally but there was no hiding what had to be bad news and he couldn't keep that from his voice.

The sentry's voice was scratchy and weak but, to his credit, he tried to make the motion of a salute and spoke as clearly as he could. "Attack on Mavakum Town. Demien Tower sent a squad to help but they weren't enough. Two fists of Trollocs carried off almost everyone and then moved on to Kataba to the west of there. They sent me here and another rider to Rena Tower for help. Demien Tower is almost empty with the forces being sent. There were Worms heading that way and blocking passage to the South from Kataba. We have to hurry!..."

The rest of what the sentry might have said was lost in the bustle of movement that immediately ensued. There was always a contingent at a border tower that was ready to go within minutes of a call to action. The larger force would be mobilized within the hour. Some would always stay behind to man the station until it had to be abandoned. But the people under attack might not have time to wait for even the minutemen reinforcements. Ubriel locked eyes with the Patrol Captain. They and their people were ready now. Exchanging a nod with the man, Ubriel shouted, "Savaro! This patrol is being redirected to Kataba!"

The Patrol Captain bellowed, "Open the gates!"

Sparing a glance at her party, the good men and women of the Grey Tower, Ubriel signaled Peach and shouted, "Hyaah!"

Peach's muscles bunched at the signal of the knees and heels of her girl and at her shout, she sprang forward, head low and nose out. They pointed straight at the opening of the gate as it was swinging outward and, side-by-side with the Patrol Captain, they left Heeth Tower heading west and north to Kataba; hoping they wouldn't be too late.

OOC: I intend to give you all time to post about the exodus and then we will arrive at Kataba. It isn't as far to the town as it is between border towers.

[Quibby]

The pain... so exquisite... More... Carrying his sack, now laden with more willow bark tea and some other goods taken from the infirmary, Mehrin left the bunkhouse and went to retrieve his thrice-damned steed. The horse seemed to know Mehrin's condition as he led it out of the stable and into the courtyard; its first act of the day was to step on his foot. Yes... It had taken every piece of willpower he had to fight down the Deathwatch's urge to drive a knife into the creature's skull. Even so, a hot rage had settled into the back of Mehrin's mind, and he could feel the faint probe of the Deathwatch against his consciousness. The pain, the Blight, everything seemed to be making it stronger. Don't fight me. You never did before.

Shut up.

Despite the throbbing pain in his leg, Mehrin chose to walk the long-faced evil bastard of a horse out of the stables and to where Mistress Bryne was waiting with the rest of the group and with four men who appeared to be some sort of patrol. Probably coming with us, he thought as he walked. A rock shifted under his foot, turning his ankle and sending another rush of pain up his leg. Briefly, the edges of Mehrin's vision turned red before returning to normal, leaving him shook while the Deathwatch laughed. "No," he muttered quietly, hopefully below the hearing of those around him. Another brief stab of pain, and Mehrin decided that sitting on the hairy, four-legged servant of darkness was better than standing on the ground. It would still hurt, true, but it would hurt less.

Maybe he would get a reprieve.

Halfway through the Tower Commander's report on the Blight status, Mehrin's head snapped towards the gate. Hooves.

I know. They're in a hurry, aren't they?

They are. Trouble.

Good... The last was accompanied by another pulse of red around Mehrin's vision. Shaking his head violently, Mehrin forced his full attention back to the obviously exhausted rider. "... weren't enough. Two fists of Trollocs carried off almost everyone and then moved on to Kataba to the west of there. They sent me here and another rider to Rena Tower for help. Demien Tower is almost empty with the forces being..." Mehrin stopped listening. Immediately, he began checking his armor, moving and adjusting straps as he went. Digging into his pouch, he found his leather fighting gloves, fingerless with metal plates attached at the knuckles. He also retrieved two bottles of the willow bark tea and, without a care for whoever saw him, swallowed the contents.

The Patrol Captain and Mistress Bryne exchanged a quick nod before she shouted at the Commander, "Savaro! This patrol is being redirected to Kataba!"

Within a breath of her, the Patrol Captain also shouted, "Open the gates!"

With a bellow, Mistress Bryne hurled herself and her pony out the gates at a fast pace of some sort, followed by the rest of the patrol. Mehrin kicked the horse into motion. It turned its head to look at him. "Look, we've got people to save. I know you don't like me, and I certainly don't like you, but I'm willing to pu- DAMN!" The horse surged ahead, its head low, its pace slowly catching the rest of the patrol until he was in their midst. There's killing to be done.

I know.

You're going to need me.

No. I will not put these people at risk to let you go on a killing spree.

A sudden jostle sent another spike of pain up Mehrin's leg. This time, the redness in his vision held for five seconds before fading again.

We'll just see about that, won't we?

[Sean]

“It's always better that the innocent should live than that the guilty should die.”

The previous evening still sat uneasily with Valadin. Dinner had been an uneventful affair with him mostly keeping to himself after the brief exchange with Mistress Ubriel. Urging the dun beneath him to a gallop, he kept pace with the others, but his thoughts were elsewhere—a dangerous place for them to be in the Blight.

Why come apologize to me? She coulda easily told me not to wield the Power without a direct order. Could it be that she has no real command of channelers—she’s afraid o’ us? I am the only one among the patrol. No, that can’t be it…then what?

As they left the command post, military men moved in precise unison towards the garrison’s cache of weapons and soon the camp would be flooded with the shine of thousands of spears. Val thought news of the outposts’ fall should have been enough to incite a frenzied panic, but these were men of the Blight, used to the dangers that lurked in the sickly marshes. A Trolloc attack was an everyday occurrence for them and they’d learned to face each threat with a hardened heart. I will return here one day…return and learn from these men, he promised.

Following closely behind the Mistress his thoughts again revisited her words. Likely they would’ve meant nothing to her, but for Valadin they were a curiosity. To this point he’d served under plenty of men and women, each of them wielding their right of command with certainty of their infallibility. His fists tightened on the reins of his horse as he considered the feeling that had resulted from the apology. I…I felt that I could trust her. I let my guard down. Didn’t feel like it was jus’ a matter o’ bein’ ordered about—that she really was lookin’ after me. This what comes with bein’ a good patrol leader? Considerin’ every one o’ yer men’s thoughts and hearts? Light…

Staring at the plump commander ahead a new respect began to blossom for her. Even Val had his suspicions about the Mistress’s condition—he’d seen enough girls seeking out their Wisdom for aid with the matter—yet she’d fully impressed him not only with her competence, but her affinity for command as well. His face was grim as his focus on what they would face settled, but nothing remained of the earlier hesitation. Now the Emptiness settled over his thoughts and the Void felt closer than it had ever been since taking this Light-forsaken patrol.

Now he was ready to face whatever the Blight would throw their way.

[Roan]

During the course of the previous evening, Riahana did her best to chat with everyone in their small party. The Blight could impact a person's mood, and it did seem that their party was subdued through the course of their evening meal. She enjoyed what conversation she could, and was glad to catch up with Lysira. The Gaidar Captain had hoped to speak with Ubriel, but the chance didn't arise. The Mistress of Training was off, and Riahana had a suspicion she knew why. It wasn't something she would ask with many ears about, and hoped to have a chance to ask as during the course of the next day.

With the bloodied rider coming in, and warnings of Trollocs attacking, the hopes of a casual conversation with Bree were dashed, at least for the time being. As the man began to give his report, Riahana strung up her bow, and readied it for use. She noticed that Lysira had done the same, and looked over to the Ji', Ani, wondering if the young woman had taken the mounted archery class offered by Lys.

After a final check of Lex's girth and bridle, Riahana mounted up, and checked the quiver strapped to her right calf. Happy that it was secure, she then adjusted her sword to make sure she could get at it easily if she had to switch from her ranged weapon to blade. She'd listened to the bloodied soldier's report of the attack as she did her final gear checks, and looked to Ubriel, knowing what order would come next. Their schedule for this mission just went out the window, but that was nothing new for Blight patrols.

Once the Mistress of Training and the Patrol Captain moved out, Riahana urged Lex to follow. She only needed a gentle squeeze of her calves, as the light bay knew exactly what her rider wanted. Just as horse and rider started to move, Ria pulled the Void around her, opening her senses to what was around her, but also detaching a part of her so she could act and react without being ruled by emotion. . .or as much was possible for one who wore the Fancloak. The day had only just begun, but she knew it was going to be a long one.

[Bella]

Lysira's sleep had not been peaceful. It was to be expected that one would not sleep too deeply when at the Blight Border, but every soldier knew that you ate and slept when you had the chance. She had slept, but it was not as suiting to rest as she would have liked. The feeling of ever-present danger that this place conjured up in the soul reminded her to the time right after Cade had been attacked at the manor, and how much she'd feared for him as they fled Cairhien for the Tower.

Thus, she wasn't surprised when her dreams were filled about that attack and that time... Even if she wasn't surprised, though, it didn't mean that she enjoyed it. She woke rested just enough, though not perhaps as much as she'd have liked.

She ate breakfast with everyone else, taking advantage of the food. She knew that she'd need it to balance out the sleeping issue. Ubriel didn't seem to eat much, but it wasn't the diminutive Gaidar's place to ask. At least not at this point. Everyone else seemed in the same quiet, focused place. This morning they would head out again, so she had her stuff packed and then fetched her horse from the stable. Tacked quickly and all points checked over, she was just stringing her bow--be ready when traveling--when the rider was announced.

Lys mounted up swiftly, before the man was even into the tower and giving his beleaguered declaration. Weapons ready and horses mounted, the small group of the Tower launched themselves after the Mistress of Training, headed for Kataba.

[Bree]

The scene was chaos and carnage. When they arrived at Kataba, the guards of Demien Tower were split into three groups. One small contingent was engaged in the process of starting fires on the north east side of the town. The blazes were a wall of defense to slow the Trolloc attack. One group was trying to organize and harry the people of Kataba to flee to the West. The third and largest group, still likely less than one hundred men, was engaging the trolloc forces as they came around the wall of fire.

Ubriel pointed and bellowed, "The commander!" The Patrol Captain followed her as she guided Peach toward an officer sitting astride his horse. He was off to one side of the escape route the townsfolk were taking. Ubriel waited long enough for the commander to see her and then saluted. The Patrol Captain reported and then Ubriel said, "Patrol from the Grey Tower, Commander. Where do you need us?"

The grizzled soldier nodded and threw a perfunctory salute back. "On the line! We have to hold those flaming beasts back. If we had an Asha'man here, we could send these people out through a gateway. As it is, we are going to be harried all the way to Rena Tower!"

Ubriel nodded and looked over at her people. Pulling her axe from its mounting place on the bottom of the shield strapped to her arm she issued her commands, "Archers! choose your position. Find the myrddraal if you can. Take them out! Valadin! if you know how to make a Gateway, find your place, learn it and make an escape route. Otherwise or meanwhile, use every blasted Battle Weave you know." At the quizzical look she thought she saw forming, she added, "The bad things are already here. You don't have to worry about the Power drawing them to us. Everyone else, shore up the weak points and beat these things back. Let's go!"

She knew some of her people. She knew all of their training. They were dutiful and vigilant fighters. She didn't pause to see if they would comply. She knew they would. She threw herself and Peach down the line of refugees and into the fray of the nearest pack of trollocs. She slammed into the group of three trollocs about to overrun the tired and bloodied soldiers that had been about to break under their crush. Peach hit the beasts with her mail covered rump and kicked out. Ubriel engaged with one hawk headed monster as it rushed her with a net covered in sharp spikes. Batting it away with the spike of her axe, she pulled with her axe hand and sliced outward with the edge of the shield on her other arm. The vein that opened on the bird-thing's neck spit gore as Ubriel disentangled that net from her weapon.

She saw the Patrol Captain near her on his own mount charging into the fray, his men engaging or already engaged along the line. There weren't many in their number but, the Light willing, they would be enough to make the difference.

OOC: If anyone needs any clarification, you can PM me.
Basically <-- is safety ... v is Worms ... ^ and --> is two fists or so Trollocs which means probably at least two myrddraal. We have a big fire breaking the advancing line of the enemy but not enough defenders.

[Quibby]

OOC: *evil laughter from the shadows*

IC:

Mehrin took a moment to assess the tactical situation before sliding painfully from the horse.

It was terrible.

He nodded at Mistress Bryne's commands, then drew his flamberge from the saddle mount. "I would stay back if I were you, horse," he said, having no doubt that his advice would be heeded. The damned creature wanted to have nothing to do with Mehrin, he was sure, so anywhere that was someplace else was probably acceptable. Setting off at a brisk walk with flashes of red still lighting up his vision, Mehrin began wading through the largest group of soldiers, fighting his way to the front line. His eyes fell upon a monstrosity that could only have been a Trolloc, a tall, muscular creature with the head of a boar. It roared as it waved its ugly-looking sword at the assembled soldiers.

It never saw the heavy blade come out of the press that cleaved its head down the middle.

Stepping into the suddenly opened place among the surprised soldiers and Trollocs, Mehrin gave his flamberge a quick spin in his hands and said, "Let us dance."

******

He was not sure how long he had been fighting. It could have been five minutes, fifteen, or an hour, or even a year. His muscles ached, new cuts and bruises vied for his attention, and he was hungry. In his head, the Deathwatch cackled in glee with every drop of blood spilled, every wound taken by anybody it could see. The man next to him stepped forward to deliver a hard thrust into the gut of the Trolloc that Mehrin was occupying. On his other side, two other soldiers were doing the same. They had been pushed together by the press, veterans all, and they instinctively began working as a unit. One man struck, one man distracted, one man killed, all moved to the next target. Their efforts were working, too; a small space had opened up around them where Trollocs only went when pressed. If past knowledge was anything to go by, the same would be true in oth-

A loud bellow sounded from the Trollocs, and a goat-faced monstrosity broke the ranks and charged directly at Mehrin's little squad. Its sheer boldness carried it through; the man on point against the creature was butted in the face with its horns, his head turned into a soft mass of shattered bone. The man's partner swung in an attempt to catch the creature off-guard, but the hasty blow bounced off its heavy leather armor, leaving only a large nick. The Trolloc's counter blow with its vicious-looking war hammer caved the man's chest in and left him sprawled on the ground.

"We've still got it two-to-one," Mehrin's sole surviving squadmate said, shortly before the thing charged again. Both men swung, but it ran between them, throwing them both to the ground. Lances of pain shot up Mehrin's leg, filling his vision with red and his mind with the all-too-familiar bloodlust of the Deathwatch. He was slow to stand.

His partner, on the other hand, was almost on his feet when the goat-headed Trolloc struck him in the back of the head with its warhammer. With a bestial laugh, it turned its attention back to Mehrin. He snarled at the creature, then met its charge with his own. Their blows met between them, leaving the two straining against each other's strength. Slowly, Mehrin felt his body beginning to give way before the large creature. Gazing up into its eyes, Mehrin smiled grimly, then stomped hard on its foot.

His boot met only churned-up mud.

The creature and Mehrin froze, their eyes still locked, then they both looked down slowly to where Mehrin's boot was firmly planted in the mud in front of the Trolloc's hoofed foot. Their gazes met again, Mehrin smiling sheepishly. "That didn't go according to plan," he said. The Trolloc laughed, then punched Mehrin in the face, hard.

Mehrin felt himself leave the ground as he flew away from the blow. He landed poorly, on his bruised leg, but managed to roll back into a crouch. His nose was broken again, and he could feel several tears to the skin on his face. Blood was running in his eyes. His every pain roared back into his mind. He could barely stand to grip his sword.

Set me loose!

No.

But we'll die!

Better that way.

But if we die, then Renalie's killers go free. You have to let me go!

The exchange happened quickly; the Trolloc had not yet taken a step.

You're done! You can't do anything else here! I can!

... fine. Leave the humans alone.

The cackling in Mehrin's mind became a roar. His eyes began to hurt, the world growing bright and vivid as his pupils dilated as wide as they could go. The redness crept back into his vision. And in the back of his mind the tearing sensation.

"Do it," he muttered, blinking slowly.

****

Tearing claws tore at Mehrin's mind, leaving it screaming, as something ripped past him, kicking him down, leaving him floating in the blackness of his own mind as It moved up behind his eyes, seizing control.

All in the space of one blink.

****

It took a deep breath, flexing its fingers on the hard mass of a weapon, the hilt of a sword it had known for decades. It was immediately set upon by the pain of an abused body, pushed to its limits.

It laughed. It had no limits.

The laugh carried, a high, crazed sound that seemed perverse, even in the midst of a battle. Pain was nothing but a tool. Pain meant power, a driving force to carry it through. It craved pain.

The Trolloc had stopped, looking at it in confusion. It stood, a fresh wave of empowering pain rising from the damaged leg. "Come here, you beautiful bastard," it said in a hollow, echoey voice.

The creature evidently understood the common tongue; it bellowed in rage and charged at it. It hefted the flamberge, merely a small stick in its hands, and met its charge, still laughing. Its upward strike met the Trolloc's downward strike, sending the war hammer wide of its mark. Even as the blow missed, it dropped its shoulder and rammed the larger creature, sending it sprawling with it on its chest. It seized the flamberge at its leather band above the hilt and drove one of the curved spikes between the creature's eyes. It twitched once, then fell still.

It stood then, still laughing. There was more pain coming from its shoulder. It drank it in, heady. Another Trolloc came, its sword held at a guard. It charged the creature, aiming a blow at its neck. The Trolloc blocked the blow, stopping it just as the waved blade touched its neck. It grinned, then pushed on the leather band, forcing the blade hard against its neck, then pulled back.

A spray of rancid blood struck it in the face as the Trolloc collapsed, holding its neck in a futile effort to save its pathetic life. It left it to suffer. The nearest few Trollocs hesitated, then, looking at it. Slowly, it licked its lips, savoring the moment, the moment when they realized that it was something new on the field.

Soldiers were charging up behind it. They were heading towards the Trollocs. It seemed like the right direction to go. It joined the charge, each step sending sweet pain through its body. It was time to have fun.

The Deathwatch howled, reveling in its freedom. Reveling in what it was about to do.

OOC: The Deathwatch can perform some feats of extreme strength based solely on the fact that it does not register that it is destroying Mehrin's body by doing so. Expect to see brutality and hear laughter. Also, somebody please be ready to help drag Mehrin back, if necessary.

[Roan]

Chaos. There was no other word for the scene those from the Grey Tower came upon as the arrived at Kataba. It was clear that the guards at Kataba had their hands full, and without help, their efforts would likely fail. When Ubriel issued her commands, every single member of the Grey Tower patrol were in action.

Riahana welcomed the Void as she let it settle around her, pulling her focus to the task assigned to her, Lysira and the Ji'. Find the Myrddraal. . .and take them out, if at all possible. Not a small order, to be sure, but if they were successful, and said Myrddraal was actively linked to the Trollocs? Then the deathblow would kill those trollocs linked to and cotrolled by the Fades.

Such a simple plan that was not simple at all. . .take out the Fades. . .kill those which were not so easily killed, and often more dangerous after the deathblow was dealt given they would not die until sunset. Ria pushed the potential pitfalls to the back of her mind and pulled the Void more tightly around her to focus on the task at hand.

The three archers were close enough with each other to communicate, but not so close that they could easily be taken out with one hit. Those entering melee with the Trollocs offered some protection, but the Gaidar Captain was happy to know she and Lysira both possessed similar skills with sword and bow.

Ria scanned the battle field, knowing the Fades would not be in the middle of the melee, but on the fringe. . .watching, commanding, and making the twisted beasts do their bidding. A sharp whistle from Riahana's right drew her attention to Lysira. She followed Lys's quick commands, and looked in the direction the other Archer pointed. She'd found one of the Myrddraal!

There! Ria thought as her eyes followed the direction Lys was pointing. A Fade sat on horseback, eyeless and creepy as he 'oversaw' the battle and gore the Shadowspawn were inflicting on those at Kataba. This was not a simple skirmish. . .this was chaos and carnage.

Taking a deep breath as she pulled out three arrows and placed them in her left hand, Ria grabbed a fourth and nocked it on her bow string. She took another deep breath as she kept her eyes on the Fade, stood in her stirrups and brought her bow up to aim. Another deep breath as she drew, adjusted her aim for the slight breeze she felt on her face, and with a simple gesture, released.

Hers was the second arrow to sink into the Fade's armor, following Lys's. Ani, the Ji' got in a third shot, and things got interesting. Trollocs seemed to take a sudden interest in the trio of archers. Riahana was more than aware of the two beasts heading their direction. "Ubriel, we could use some cover here!" she called out, hoping the Mistress of Training could hear her over the sounds of battle. Now that they had the Fade's attention, she hoped she, Lys and Ani could continue focusing their fire on it. She knew it was not the only one there, but it was already hit with two solid shots to its chest, and a third through its midsection. None were death blows. . .and Ria wondered if they could land such a shot.

Not letting herself get too distracted by such forward thinking, Riahana took one of the three arrows she held in her left hand, nocked it, aimed and fired again. She seemed to be following Lys shot for shot, with the next round of arrows sinking in to the Myrddraal's armor. Whether any of the shots penetrated below the armor to reach flesh? She didn't know.

One of the two trollocs that were heading for them was closer to the trio than she liked, and Ria looked to Lys and Ani, "Keep firing at the Fade! I'll see if I can get rid of our....unwelcome guest." She slung her bow over her back and drew her sword from its scabbard. Lex, her mount, knew what it meant to be in battle, and was a solid horse when it came to protecting her rider. In two quick strides, Ria closed the gap between her and the first Trolloc. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, it registered that someone else had engaged the second one, but she kept her focus on the first.

Mounted combat was a different beast to sparring on the ground, but it was something Riahana practices with both bow and sword. She charged the Trolloc who attempted a wide swing aimed for Lex's neck, but it left him wide open, and Ria took advantage by slashing across his chest. While her initial strike landed, it was not nearly strong enough for a death blow, and only seemed to anger the goat headed brute as he let out a piercing howl.

Using momentum, the beast spun, pulling his sword around, aiming for Riahana this time. She found it easy to parry, as the Trolloc had no finesse with the blade. He left himself open once again, and Riahana moved into Kissing the Adder with each thrust aimed at the beast's chest. She found power with each thrust, and the final one ripped through the Trolloc. He let out another howl, but it was his death howl. She placed a foot on his shoulder and kicked him off her blade as she looked for any other in-coming threats. Seeing none, she moved to Lysira's right, and sought the Fade, who now looked like he was listing thanks to the multiple arrows. It was clear he was trying to find cover, but there was none without retreating. An idea came to Ria as she looked to Lys, "Try and keep him occupied. . .I am going to try and flank him."

It was either going to be a brilliant move, or. . .an idiotic move. It would all come down to timing and execution.

((OOC: Bella, as mentioned, I borrowed Lys for a wee bit.)

[Bree]

Ubriel and Peach were caught up in the rush of the conflict as much as the rush of adrenaline and blood in their veins. Ubriel heard Riahana shouting for aid and caught the bear-man she was fighting in the temple with the beard of her axe. Pulling hard down and right, she cleared her field of vision and was able to see the three archers engaging one of the myrdraal. Yes! She whistled sharply at the Patrol Captain and gestured so that he would see the black armored pincushion. He nodded and redirected the surprisingly well disciplined patrol around him to carve a sweeping furrow between the archers and any incoming trollocs seeking to distract them from their purpose.

Ubriel felt Peach's muscles bunching up and shifted her weight in time to brace against the kicking of her back legs. Peach landed both hooves soundly on the chest of a trolloc with an unidentifiable twist to its alarmingly human face. Ubriel guessed it was a set of boar tusks causing that unfortunate shape based on the thing's cloven hoof hands. With that, Peach whirled and Ubriel held her axe and shield at the ready but the kicked trolloc stayed down, clutching its throat and spitting a red foamy mess. Then Ubriel's eyes landed on Mehrin. The old-timer was hard and leathery and the time he had spent in the Yard training and working his muscles back into shape had paid off. She and Peach moved in that direction as she watched him and several other men fighting as a team, an offensive wall breaking the trollocs. She was not able to watch long. She saw the tide turning against him and his companions when he suddenly began to fight in a frenzy.

Ubriel was on the brink of urging Peach toward him, to give him aid, when a roar from her left made her spin and swing her axe again. She had never seen anything so disturbing and she was glad she didn't have anything in her stomach to heave up. The mangled mass before her was two trollocs, with two heads sprouting from a conjoined body. Three legs and feet and two arms that sprouted both human hair and feathers carried the thing forward working two catch poles. The looped wire on the ends of the poles dripped gore from the unfortunate victims the thing had already managed to snare. Ubriel leaned low and urged Peach forward.

Peach balked. "Peach! Hyahh!" Ubriel insisted and Peach reared up on her hind legs. Ubriel was astounded but did not have time to wonder. As Peach kicked forward and trampled down on the beaked head on the left, Ubriel stuck her own head out and baited the head on the right. Torn between worry for its brother and the distraction of a perfectly good neck for its pole, the drooling man-head paused. Ubriel swung down with the wicked cork-screw spike on the back of her axe and drove it through that ugly skull. Peach's kicking pushed the thing back and off of the axe. There behind it was the other myrddraal.

Mehrin running rampant to her right. The archers laying into the other myrddraal far to her left. The Border Patrol cutting a swath through the mess and Valadin on the hill preparing to make an escape route. Ubriel spun her axe in a tight circle in her right hand and thumped it on the flat of her shield. "Peach, let's kill the snake. And no more arguing!" Ubriel leaned forward and insisted that Peach charge the Mryddraal sitting astride its black and deadly horse.

Peach sprang forward and crashed into the black stallion, shoulder to shoulder. She bit at the other horse's neck and it attempted to bite back. Ubriel engaged the myrddraal. Black shining sword seeming to flow like one of the creature's limbs, Ubriel found herself having to really try. It was no stupid trolloc. It was not unskilled or inexperienced. This beast knew not only how to use its blade, but how to counter an axe.