Everlong

72

No, she did not sympathise. Yes, she didn't like taking a life; but, well, the goblins and orcs were her enemy, if she didn't kill them, or whomever crossed her path, then they'd do it to her in return. But worse. Liruliniel whipped her arms, flicking blood from her sword as she saw in the slight clearing that an orc had stepped forwards spotting her just as clearly. Snarling and revealing yellowed teeth, Liruliniel frowned and pressed her lips into a thin line. They were steadily walking towards each other before at the last moment, the crude sword within the orc's hand was practically thrown her way. Liruliniel ducked back and cut upwards, deterring the sword from coming any closer to her. Her opponent stumbled a little from the strength behind such a simple action, yet regained composure enough to turn and try with quick succession which was surprising for the size of the orc, to parry and hit her several times.

Each quick slash or stab, she managed to block but she was very much aware that she was backing up. This orc had her on the defensive and wasn't allowing her any chance to return the favour, to change the course of this fight and land a killing blow. Liruliniel jumped to the side, avoiding another fighting pair and stabbed sidewards, the orc latched onto her arm, pulling her forward if only to hit his forehead against hers. Liruliniel hadn't seen that coming and she could feel her legs buckle. She hadn't been hit like that before, if ever. The blow was hard, it felt like a piece of rock had just crashed against her head and her eyes rolled slightly.

She was aware enough to feel herself be let go, the mud welcomed her readily, soggy and soft yet wet, she opened her eyes and stared upwards. The orc overshadowed her, he muttered something but her ears were ringing, but she distinctly heard the word 'Dreamwalker' come from the blackened and chapped looking lips. That did it for her, with a resolute scream she lifted up her arm and stabbed upwards. The orc doubled over, looking at the sword now piercing its armour and stomach to her. The last thing she expected was for it to lean more on her sword and come closer, its sword too was coming closer still. With Cúferne in hand, she managed to get her senses under control enough to bring it across her body. Letting out a pained yell, she tried pushing upwards, the full weight of her enemy was pressing downwards, it didn't care if it was a goner, it had still planned to kill her too.

Liruliniel struggled, feeling herself sinking in the mud. So many feet had trampled it, the softness did little to aid her with purchase, she could feel watery mud seeping into her tunic, through the neckline and even through the minute gaps of her armour. It was weighing her down, pulling her down, Liruliniel's breath hitched; she didn't want to be dragged down into the ground and be walked over and on by hundreds of feet, she was still alive and panicking a little now as her grip was loosening on her hilt. She couldn't keep the weight of the orc off of her, her arm was shaking and it knew this clearly. With what could be considered a grin, the orc jolted, the movement sudden and sharp, sharper yet was the jagged blade which easily sought the gap between her shoulder and chest plate.

Liruliniel felt on fire, her shoulder burned and she arched as much as she could with being pinned down. The scream which was ripped from her throat did little but amuse the orc, kicking and struggling with her legs, she managed to lift them up, bending her knees she pushed them upwards. Her feet planted on the orc's chest plate and she pushed him away with all her might. It was a strain, her legs hurt, her shoulder was soaked, not just with mud, her own blood and whatever had spilt from the orc. Lifting her head up, she saw its dead body on the ground, unmoving and with Silmacil still in its flesh.

Liruliniel flexed her hand and winced, biting her lip she shut her eyes and let out a whimper. She could barely close her hand, she sat herself up. Getting the ringing from her ears, she glanced around with narrowed eyes, so much fighting was still happening, the clashing of steel had her tilting her head with a pained groan. She reached behind herself and felt the back of her head, pulling her hand forwards she looked at the blood upon her palm, red. She had cut her head open somehow as she went down, pressing a gentle finger to her shoulder she winced. Instantly regretting that, she got her feet underneath herself and moved forwards.