Katerin was content with her quiet life of studying the arcane, and wanted for nothing in her life. She had friends, family, and plenty to do.
But life has a way of changing people--a way of pushing them to do things far outside their comfort and ex...
Fykes saw an opening in the line as the healers pulled another man from the fight. He filled the gap and put his double blades to work. He was still uncertain with this style and two blades, but he could make it work when he needed to. He had gone through too many years of training to forget the basics of a sword fight.
He swayed with the line, holding every breach he could, as each side found advantages and setbacks. His blades and armor were covered in blood, and he had gained several new injuries of his own, though he could hardly complain about a few scrapes and bruises. He trusted the men to his sides and the men waiting behind, should he or another man fall.
On an honest scale, these battles were only skirmishes and small ones at that, but it felt much larger in the thick of it. The scent of sweat, blood, and smoke filled his nostrils, a thick and metallic aroma that was hard to forget once encountered. He kept his focus on his attacks as he slashed, parried and lunged.
He could only see his next opponent, until magic ignited the air in front of him and three of the people fighting to breach the wall lit on fire. As soon as the fire faded, dozens of small crystal missiles found targets with ease, in the group of lizard-folk and uhma'zarhins facing them.
The next thing he knew, Katerin was beside him in the line. Her staff was of limited use with the small amount of space she had, but she still used it well. The faint smell of parchment and soap overtook a bit of the pervasive scent of blood and sweat.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked her, his voice tense.
"I could ask you the same—" She cut herself off as she brought her staff down in a short chop to halt the approach of another lizard, and another few moments passed before she had enough breath to speak again. "I need your help." She grunted, twisting her staff to block the thrust of a slender spear. "There's a small group on the back side of the keep," she said as she backed up a step and released another spell into the line, before ducking away from the fighting.
Fykes swung his blades into the fray one last time, as two men stepped forward to take up their places. As he stepped away from the fighting, he noticed that they were holding quite well. Injured, sure—but they would not lose tonight. "What are you talking about?" he asked, as he found her not far from the gate, her hands shaking as she leaned on her staff.
"Noticed a group in the trees... I don't think anyone else has seen them, yet."
Fykes frowned, his nose wrinkling. "Where?"
"Back of the keep. They were picking off the survivors of the earlier skirmish."
"Let's go."
Together they moved around the fort, taking every effort to be as quiet as possible. There were numerous fires on this side, a result of pitch-filled barrels, lit and rolled down the hill that stood as a natural yet flawed barrier for the backside of the keep.
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