Completed The Get Back

[Faramund]

Outside the walls of Dunhold, the wind wailed. Deafening, and deadly cold, it cut through the layers of fur and wool like a warm knife through butter. At least the snows have dropped off some, mused Faramund, searching for silver linings in a world turned white and grey. The skeletons of trees flanked their advance, snow crunching with every labouring step taken. Chances were they would need to rest before moving in for the kill.

Faramund could live with that. So long as the others didn't magick themselves to death.

'Thought I asked you to give that a rest!' Sidling up beside Byanka, Faramund leaned in to study her face. What little of it he could see. 'You doing okay? Your nose is running!' Of course, she didn't need him to tell her she was bleeding. Damn fool-ass was going to work herself into an early grave at this rate. 'Save the spells for when we need them,' he advised, quieter this time.

Torn between gratitude and disappointment, Faramund slogged on, glad to see that they'd all taken the idea of snowshoes to heart.

Even so, two miles was beginning to feel like twenty by the time Jarro called for them to halt.

Going to ground alongside the dusker, Faramund peered through the trees to the mound ahead. 'That the place?' He asked, keen eyes catching the glimmer of firelight way up on the hill's summit. 'Looks... daunting.'

Jarro nodded. 'Won't be easy, that's for damned sure!' Scanning for the foot of the hill for signs of movement, Jarro slumped lower as something emerged from the gloom. 'There it is!' he whispered, his voice so small Faramund barely caught it. 'You leave anyone to keep an eye on things here?' He asked, still as stone and just as colourless. 'Yeah! Syr Hector! Though, God's know where he's gotten to!'

The construct's inhuman form strode past their hiding place. Faramund saw signs of battle-damage, scars criss-crossing its greying, cadaverous flesh. 'Damn thing's had its orb replaced,' he observed, clueless as to what it was used for, other than to turn good men into mist.

'Don't reckon it got-'

'No,' replied Faramund vehemently. 'Not Hector. Boy's got talent, and something to live for.' Faramund dreaded the thought of what Syr Lorinna would do to them if they returned without the young half-ear.

Monroe Nacht Byanka Valkas Hector

 

[Monroe]

She had been silent on her approach to Faramund and Jarro, listening to them speak before her own voice, quiet but carried on the wind to their ears. "If Hector was found, I think there would be more activity than what we are seeing. Active searches for more of us, perhaps."

And before the squires or the sworn knights could catch up and hear her, Monroe nudged Faramund with her fist, opening it to show him the sea shell necklace she had made herself on that beach while drinking wine with her friend. "Just... in case something happened to me. Keep it or... do me a favour and return it to the beach I took them from. One last drink in my honour, hm?"

Because Monroe would lay down her life for her friend. He had done so for her a myriad of times in the past, but now, Syr Cathmore would be sure Faramund would get everyone home. "Don't overthink it. It's just a precaution, alright?" She glared up at him, raising a brow to challenge him in refusing her this.

Hector Nacht Byanka Valkas Faramund

 

[Nacht]

Nacht held out his hand and shadow balled itself on his pinky and thumb respectively, the energy turning into a pair of cute bats. Some people thought they were like flying rodents, but Nacht disagreed. How could anyone hate these little guys and- he took a second to boop one of them on their "snoot", a word he had so babyishly created. (Yes. Yes I did just canonically invent snoot. I have my priorities straight.) The bat he had so gently poked sneezed softly and launched off his finger and into the sky, almost causing Nacht to bop the other one to see if a similar reaction would occur, but the boy managed to restrain himself. The bat, already having mastered flying, flew just out of reach and spoke.

"I-am-Shuka. Do-not-do-that-again." Nacht had recently realized that he heard sounds from Shade that sounded like common, which was odd. He had eventually realized that he could understand his creation's words and that his mind translated their mewls and squeaks to words. That was certainly helpful in organizing walking times, but perhaps it could work well here? No, perhaps he should not. The knights seemed clearly irritated by his input, so a policy of silence seemed the way. They would need it, as Faramund finally spotted the robot they were worried about. The size of the beast was neat, but also incredibly scary. Either way, it was certainly not something he felt confident facing. He had heard stories of what the creature could do in a battle and was hesitant to end his story as a bloodstain, to say the least.

"Maybe I should listen to Far-" he briefly thought, the idea quickly leaving his system with a shiver. No, Faramund was experienced but also cynical. When you started taking his advice to heart, you killed any sense of adventure left in this whole knight schtick for a grave sense of responsibility. At least, that was what a squire who had the chance to go on a mission with him once said. However, there was the issue of credibility. It was his turn now to battle alongside "Mund", as he was sparsely referred to, so perhaps his own conclusions would be better to go off of.

Faramund Monroe Wilhelm Thorne Byanka Valkas

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka stared back at Faramund as he inspected her. Maybe she shouldn't be doing magic in her already weakened state, but at least they'd have some semblance of protection when the construct came round, keeping more of them alive.

"How do you know we won't need this one," she replied softly, not moving to shift the scarf to wipe away the blood on her face; it would likely just freeze to her skin anyway.

Faramund moved forward with Jarro, Monroe following close behind, leaving Byanka with Nacht and the other squires. They ducked down with the others, watching through the trees as the construct appeared; battle-worn, but still intact, and apparently with a new orb. Byanka remembered how much of a struggle it was to rid it of its first orb, and wondered how in hell it had got a new one so quickly.

Monroe was saying something softly to Faramund and handing him something. Byanka couldn't hear what was said but she could read the room (or rather the white frozen hell they were laying in). Preparing or even expecting to die on a mission never let the mission end well for them or anybody else- but Byanka could not fault her fellow knight for her realism, especially as she watched the construct prance about.

It did not seem to notice the group of nights, and Byanka wondered with awe if it was because of her pathetic protection spell.

Probably not.

Faramund Monroe Nacht

 

[Faramund]

Faramund stared blankly at Monroe. 'Plan on dying here, do you?' He asked, the bitter wind snatching away his words, but not the anger in his voice. Of all the fool-ass things to say before a scrap. 'You know the score, Roe. Go into a fight thinking you're not going to make it out the other side and you won't.' Everyone knew that, even the bloody squires. Boys and girls as brainless and starry-eyed as Nacht.

Don't overthink it? Did she even know the who she was talking to?

Did anybody? Looking away before she could see the guilt in his eyes, Faramund sighed, relented. 'Give it here!' He snapped, taking the necklace and looping it around his neck like some form of good luck charm. Monroe was really starting to piss him off, but he wasn't so callous as to turn down her request. They were, after all, friends. And good ones at that.

'Don't bloody die, Roe,' the dawnling whispered, brown-gold eyes meeting hers in silent challenge. 'Eironmar's orders.'

His balaclava crumpled as he grinned.

The arrival of Byanka, Breklinn and Braemar put an end to the conversation. Jarro, silent through it all, crept forward as the construct disappeared from sight around the hill. 'Takes just over seven minutes for it to make a full circuit,' the elf said, hustling back to the group as they hunkered down to form a plan. 'Alright! Here's what I propose: one team, made up of whoever's feeling particularly brave today, stays down here to deal with the construct.'

'Meanwhile, a second team, led by yours truly, will head up the hill, and assault the cultists whilst they're still unawares as to our presence.' He paused, glancing around. 'Now, knowing what we know of the Cult's pet monstrosities, it's highly likely that as soon as we make a move against one, the other will know about it.'

'So, a coordinated strike.'

'Just so!' Jarro nodded, shooting Braemar an appreciative glance. 'Only question now is who's going where?'

'I'll remain here, if it's all the same to you.' Breklinn answered almost immediately. 'Me too!' Faramund chimed in a moment later. 'Bastard thing hates magic. Fortunately for us, I haven't a magical bone in my body.' Breklinn said something quippy, earning herself a faceful of snow and a smile from the butt of her joke.

'Guess I'll take the hilltop, then.' Braemar, next to speak, stared up at the heights where the seer was reported to be sheltering. 'Good thing that palisade's rotted through, or getting in might have been a real issue.' Nodding, Faramund turned his gaze on those yet to choose. Even Nacht did not avoid his scrutiny.

Monroe Nacht Byanka Valkas (Hector )

 

[Monroe]

"Oh, if Eironmar orders it." She spat out, glaring at her friend in return and setting her jaw tightly. Unable to withstand the anger in his eyes, Monroe was the first to break connection and look to Jarro, unhappiness etched in her features. She listened, willed herself to drown the thoughts of what ifs? and perk up as the elf proposed a plan.

Breklinn chose a team, so did Braemar.

So did Faramund.

She gritted her teeth as Faramund looked to her after sweeping his gaze between those gathered. "I'm going to kill that Construct."

"And I will join Jarro on the hilltop."

Monroe jumped, her head snapping back and catching a near fletched arrow that caused her to wince through her teeth.

"Kerraelas?!" Her honey brown eyes fixed on the young dusker at the very rear, shadows dispelling around her. "You were supposed t---" She threw a look of incredulity at the other Knights before speaking again. "Be it on your own head."

Perhaps she understood the way Faramund reacted to her words prior, but Monroe was happy to not always inform her fellow dawnling he was right.

Nacht Byanka Valkas Faramund (Hector)

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia met Monroe's gaze with her own stubborn expression, now moving to stand near the squire, Nacht, and her friend Byanka. With audacity she was renowned for, she ignored Monroe's warning and looked between Faramund and Jarro.

"I... saw Eironmar. Got a ride to join you." Her ride being a monstrous shadow that cut through the snowfields. If Syr Faramund was here, Saskia wanted to aide him. If Byanka was here, she wanted to give her strength. "Besides, this kid doesn't even know how to weaponise his shadows." The dusker jerked her thumb at Nacht, who she barely knew a thing about other than that he too could create familiars of void and shadow.

"So... hilltop?" She looked between Valkas and Nacht, wondering where they would bring their fight towards.

Nacht Byanka Valkas Faramund (Hector)

 

[Nacht]

He had been so enthusiastic, so ready. Now, though, looking at the construct and the uphill climb to the cultists they were tasked with facing, a slight dread set in. That's me. Nacht realized. That's my survival instinct talking to my body, he figured. In a wise move, he decided to listen and get a bit more serious.

"I am thinking of going along with Braemar. If you'll let me assist." He chimed in, volunteering quickly. "As a squire...I know I'm not skilled enough to last long against a single foe that gives multiple knights trouble." He certainly could do well against more human opponents, though. Hours of sparring had made that idea less of a flight of fancy and more an educated guess. As for why he didn't want to take on the construct...well, adventure and suicide were not the same thing. He wanted to commit to the former, and avoid committing the latter by biting off more than he could chew. Despite all his talk of stories and fantasy, Nacht was a bit more of a realist than most seemed to think at first glance, especially when the cost was so great.

Death was no fairy tale.

Faramund Monroe Byanka Valkas

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka was glad at Saskia's arrival, even if it could mean another knight's life at risk; at least it was a familiar face. Everyone chose where they wanted to go, and Faramund's gaze came at last upon Byanka. Her mind and her heart wished to be in both places at once, which was damn near impossible. Her head reminded her she was not at her full strength and could not fight the Construct the same way she had the first time, and would be better served fighting the cultists on the hilltop. But her heart told her one fight had better chances than the other and she wished only to keep her fellow knights from death.

But it was their choices, and she needed to make her own. "Hilltop," Byanka said, her voice soft but firm. She nodded at Saskia. Nacht, too would be joining them, and Byanka thought that was a smart decision on his part. The chances of survival were a tad bit higher on the hilltop, and this way Byanka (and Saskia) could keep an eye on him.

Byanka slowly eased her mental spell and was glad for the blessed relief it provided, but it also meant they needed to move soon, and quickly, because the Construct would certain notice a bunch of knights whispering furiously, their magic brewing.

Faramund Monroe Saskia Kerraelas Nacht Hector

 

[Faramund]

The knights and sole squire chose quickly. Good. Nodding, Faramund turned his gaze upon the newest member of their little raid group. 'Why is it that no-one ever listens to me?' He asked lightly, his joy at seeing Saskia tempered only by the fear in his heart. 'Don't answer! I'd rather not hear it.'

Shuffling around, Faramund watched the hill for any signs of movement.

The storm had rolled past them sometime in the last few minutes, the snows and cutting wind having died down in unison to leave them standing in a scene suspended in time. Stars twinkled overhead, accompanying the twin-moons on their journey across the sky. Shit! Faramund glowered. They could have done with the cover.

'Oh well!' Jarro interrupted his idling thoughts, having come to much the same conclusion. 'Guess now is as good a time as any.'

Sticking out a hand, the two knights shook, before facing the knights in their respective teams.

'Time we were about our business,' the dawnling spoke softly, glancing at Byanka, Braemar, Saskia and Nacht. 'You four, go with Jarro! And remember: the seer is our top priority.' Capture or kill, that was the mission. Faramund had few doubts they could pull it off. 'Luck go with you! Hopefully, I'll see you all again back in Dunhold.' Or the hereafter, he mused, waving his own team off to the left.

Moving now, each lunging stride measured in a matter of feet, Faramund, Monroe and Breklinn went a-hunting.

Gesturing right, Jarro led his team towards the hill, his footsteps silent if not for the crunch of freshly-driven snow.

Monroe Nacht Byanka Valkas

 

[Monroe]

Monroe looked between Breklinn and Faramund, her natural scowl crossing her expression.

"Well, at least they have two shadow wielders." She mused dryly.

Readying her bow, she made sure to nock her arrow and made small adjustments. Honey brown eyes stared at the cold, no longer using her fire to warm herself and taking the chill stoically. "Well, then. What is the plan, Captain?" She flicked her eyes to Faramund, assuming he would be the one to direct them now.

Nacht Byanka Valkas Faramund

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia gave Faramund a sheepish smile, knowing that her mere presence would annoy him more than it did with Syr Cathmore.

But the fact he did not turn away, because she would have if he had insisted so, made the shadow dusker sigh in relief. Her warm breath turned to cloud, not at all able to be ignored.

The Shadow Knight took the few steps to come stand aside Byanka, giving her an encouraging smile.

She had a moment to prepare, just like they had before the skirmish took place a week beforehand. And like then, Saskia pushed away any fear and nerves and listened to Jarro and Braemar, seasoned in their career. She was one of the youngest Knight Sworn, but she had proved her might to get here.

For Faramund, who doted on her like an older brother, she would do him proud. For Alaric, she would have yet another grand story to recount to her dearest and best friend when she would return to Astenvale.

"We must keep our wits about us." She reminded herself in hushed tones. "For the shadows may be shrouded and foreboding, but it known to us." Saskia liked to think her shadows would have swarmed her in answer, but the dusker kept them in their natural places, waiting to be wielded.

Nacht Byanka Valkas Faramund

 

[Nacht]

Well, disregarding the fact that Saskia had made her case to join the group partly by labeling him semi-incompetent, which was rather mean, he did have things to learn from another more experienced user of the power. Frankly, he had always wanted to meet Saskia and practice with her to improve his range of abilities, he only wished they hadn't met at his expense. Even so, he refused to get down about it. The knight was probably just as nervous as he was. Actually, he heard that she was. Barely managing to catch the end of a couple of hushed words with his sensitive ears, he sighed out a slight laugh at what was a fairly obvious pep talk. The chuckle was not actually at Saskia, but at the idea a knight could BE nervous. Well, his test cases were Hector and Selene and Aarno, so maybe his view was slightly skewed towards the stoic.

"What now, Syr Jarro?" He asked, waiting for an answer before walking over to stand by Saskia. "Can you do anything besides make animals?" he asked without any sass, maybe even excitedly. That was all he knew how to do, and he didn't exactly know the young Sworn's style. Perhaps having a comprehensive list would be good for pinpointing what information he wanted.

Faramund Byanka Valkas Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka was glad Saskia did not ignore her or overlook her like the others in their group had (except maybe for Faramund but that was typical). Byanka returned Saskia's smile, though hers was not nearly as bright or encouraging. She hoped Jarro was at least a realist since they had two apparent optimists in their group.

As the group made their way up to the hilltop, Byanka heard Saskia murmuring words of encouragement to herself. Byanka made no comment as they marched along and she wished Nacht had done the same thing. She could only hope that after today, he would be much sobered to what it meant to be a Knight of Anathaeum.

Her head pounded and she wondered if it was because they were drawing nearer to the cultists, or if it was because the Construct had noticed her presence (or worse, the knights below). She wondered vaguely where in high hell the Construct had come from and how it had managed to accrue a following.

Faramund Saskia Kerraelas Nacht

 

[Faramund]

Sticking to the woods, Faramund led his team around the base of the hill in search of their target. Snow groaned softly as he moved, keeping low so as to hide his profile. So far as he and everyone else knew, the creature had very few shortcomings, save maybe for its eyesight. Since it doesn't bloody have any! The dawnling thought, grimacing as he did.

The Everwatcher had a habit of blinding his followers. Or they had a habit of blinding themselves, in order to get one step closer to their false God.

Madness. Plain and simple.

Crouching down amongst the tall sentinel pines, Faramund shot a nervous glance towards the hilltop. Though he was keeping a count, he knew it wouldn't be long before the second team reached the summit. Once that happened, all bets were off.

Which meant they had to find this fucking thing, and fast!

'Fara!' Breklinn whispered suddenly. 'It's coming!'

Lowering his gaze, the dawnling fought down a shudder as the construct loped into view. Bony, and taller than him by a landslide, it paused to turn its face towards the woods surrounding the hill. Eyeless, mouthless, its gaze swept right over their hiding place. Then it was moving again, past them, continuing on its patrol.

'Alright, here we go.' Waving the others into flanking positions, Faramund crept forward, out of the trees and into the construct's path.

His heart hammered as he eased his sabre free of its scabbard. Softly, he whispered a half-forgotten prayer, calling for luck... and the strength to prevail in the face of adversity.

He lifted his arm, preparing to signal Monroe and Breklinn to loose.

The construct stopped abruptly, six feet shy of where Faramund crouched silently. He could feel it reaching out, probing, its phantom fingers tickling at the recesses of his mind. Sweat ran down his back, beneath thick layers of mail and fur.

The Construct looked down.

Faramund signalled the attack.

Monroe Nacht Byanka Valkas

 

[Monroe]

Breklinn let Monroe move on ahead, following after the short haired knight. She dispelled all sense of fear, of hesitancy, just as she did at the skirmish after reforming their ranks and moving against the Construct then. This time, she was not a number lost in the crowd. She was flanked on Faramund's left, nocked and ready for his signal.

She was closer to the ghastly thing than she wanted to be ever in her life, but there were some things they could not run from. The cult had ties to the devastation that plagued her childhood, inspired zealots into razing her home, her town, for something that did not exist. And then they turned onto the people, their neighbours and community.

Only Monroe risked a death in the sea before being brought down by their coward blades.

It was with a glower that her fingers released the bowstring, and the arrow loosed with the speed of her quiet retribution. A second arrow fetched, nocked, and loosed.

The first seemed to narrowly miss, but the second looked to be on course of striking.

And so, Monroe held her breath for that one second.

Faramund

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

"Animals?" Her face skewed into something like taking offense, sparing him a look that her friend Alaric would call dangerous. Saskia scoffed, turning to look ahead and caught Jarro looking back. She smiled, only to sate him. "I created familiars when I was six. I do not make them. The shadows are an extension, an ever present weapon and darkness not meant to be played with with animals."

It was an entity that invited her to witness horrors as a child, until they no longer kept her up at night. No longer made her afraid of the Deep Dark that tried to pull her in to a world she didn't recognise the shadows of.

"Learning the Pursuit of the Loch helped me, and of Death, but as a squire, you're not touching that until deemed capable." She could see Jarro's slight smile, and Saskia knew she did not take out her dreading on the squire.

"Now. Enough chat." Braemar hushed them, signalling their creeping now was getting closer to the hilfort.

Half dozen guards patrolled the outside perimeter, but the winds were as unforgiving as they were in Dunhold. They were on the constant move, all but one.

"That's the seer." Confirmed Jarro. Saskia turned to meet Byanka's gaze, a shared moment of looks like we are jumping right back into this mess again. The scar above her brow was still there, silvered in it's process of healing, but still angry against her skin and hidden beneath a loose strand of her golden hair.

Syr Kerraelas readied her sword.

"We must wait for the right time to strike. Tell me, do we see more than six guards?"

Nacht Byanka Valkas

 

[Nacht]

Nacht was rather excited but kept quiet for once, allowing the Knights to volunteer first, given they were more experienced than he. Obviously, that meant they should take the lead. He couldn't exactly take the lead on a scenario he didn't usually expect to be in.

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka stayed quiet as Saskia scolded Nacht. He didn't seem to mind and continued his cheerful (now silent) traipse up the hill. Byanka met Saskia's gaze, glad to see that her weariness was somewhat reflected in her fellow knight.

She turned her gaze to the encampment ahead of them, eyes tracking the movements of the guards. She counted six that she could see, but she suspected there were more than that. Sure enough, she sensed there were six more in hiding.

"I see six, but there are six more in hiding. The ones we can see are likely bait," Byanka murmured, her hand coming to rest on the hilt of her sword. "Five against six isn't too bad but five against twelve is too bad," she added in a softer tone.

Faramund Monroe Saskia Kerraelas Nacht

 

[Faramund]

Breklinn let loose the same instant Monroe did. Her first flight flew true, skewering the creature's arm but missing the orb held upright in its palm. A second arrow grazed its temple. Monroe needed to work on her aim.

'Target the orb!' Faramund yelled, throwing himself at the construct. His blade came alive in his hand, striking low, then high. He felt bone and meat giving way, but despite the crippling wounds, no blood spilled forth. Hells. The damned thing didn't even make a sound.

Instead it lashed out.

Magick, the likes of which he'd witnessed at the battle, washed over him, turning his flesh to ice. A bloody groove opened just above his right eye, blinding it. Something else bit at his hip, tearing through his armour and the innate resistance he had boasted of these past ten years.

He was pretty sure it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Lunging back in, Faramund swung at the construct's belly. Paper-thin flesh gave way under the blow. An arrow flew past his ear, another embedding itself in the creature's neck. 'The orb!' He yelled again, ducking a swipe, only to be thrown backwards a moment later by a kick he didn't see coming.

Rising to its full height, the construct struck out at Monroe and Breklinn. Tree trunks shattered, came apart, spitting out jagged shards in every direction. Snow burst, throwing up clouds of white mist that covered everything.

'Monroe! Get down!' Breklinn shouts as she dive tackles the dawnling to the ground. A wave of magic splits the tree she's hiding behind, and, with a low groan, the tall pine begins to topple.

Monroe

----- ​

Meanwhile, at the Hilltop...

You hear it first. The shouting, the clash. Sentries straighten, turn towards the disturbance. You don't see the figure who bellows the order, only the effect they have on the milling cultists.

Two, three... five of the armoured figures drop from sight behind the palisade and the curve of the hill. You don't know where they're going or what they're up to, but you have a pretty good idea.

'Now's our chance,' whispers Jarro, signalling for the party to advance. 'Choose a target and take them quickly! The seer might not be up to much, but it's best we don't underestimate this lot.'

There was no telling what they might be capable of.

Saskia Kerraelas Nacht Byanka Valkas

​

 

[Monroe]

The second shot found purchase at the hand of the construct, but it did not release the orb.

Monroe gritted her teeth, peering out a little more from behind the tree she was shielded by. Her arrow flew, as if carried by the winds and brought it to the orb, cracking it. She needed one more shot, and retreated behind the tree. A small wisp of her short hair came loose from under her winter hat, and she tucked that behind her ear before nocking another arrow and aiming.

Until trees shattered, the snow turning to cloud. Breklinn was soon upon her. There was a snapping sound as they fell to the snow, the dust choking her lungs as the air was knocked from her. Her honeyed eyes looked upwards, past the flurry and saw the pine teetering, the weight tipping it to unbalance, and Monroe pushed Breklinn off from her to start pushing the other to move.

"Move! The tree is going to crush us!" She all but screamed to be heard over the groans. Monroe reached for her bow, only to come away with a limp weapon. There was a snap in the wood, and devastation overwhelmed her.

Fuck. All she had left to use was her daggers.

The two knights scrambled forward, seeking distance from being crushed. Her eyes looked for Faramund, but the cloud was too thick.

"Faramund!"

Faramund ​

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia advanced.

Sword withdrawn, she rushed in beside Braemar. Did they not do this just a week ago? The two were near one another, charging back to take on the enemy before the Construct began demonstrating it's power. She only hoped the others were safe, were working together, unharmed.

The silver scar above her brow began to itch.

"Eyes up, Kerraelas!" Braemar clashed with a soldier, the other closest to him going to swing but Saskia caught him with ease. She was not strong like many other knights, but Saskia had been trained to target an opponent's weak spots.

Jarro appeared beside her, meeting another sentry head on as Saskia brought down her target.

Nacht Byanka Valkas

 

[Nacht]

"Right." Nacht whispers, gathering the darkness and transforming it into three wolves with little effort. Life or Death situations tended to make one more alert and skilled, he had found. Eyes locking on a target, he mentally directed his brand new troops to ambush them. The wolves slunked off and he followed, turning his aura all the way up so the darkness that routinely protected him from the sun would at this point camouflage itself among it's brethren, hiding him in the process. The unlucky guard was relatively by himself and even worse, was surprised.

The wolves began their vicious attack, and the sentry, to their credit, managed to take down two wolves before being knocked to the ground by the last one. Nacht charged in and stabbed them in the neck before they could recover. He still despised killing, after all this time, but knew this was no time to lose nerve. Thusly, he resolutely looked away and continued on. He kept his guard up, hoping that those fighting the construct were having a similarly easy time taking down their foe. Finally, a ways away he noticed everyone else fighting and neutralizing their marks.

Good, that was good. He began trudging over, intent on regrouping with his...what were they? Allies, probably.

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka did not hesitate to draw her own sword as their little group made their presence known. Both Saskia and Nacht took down their own targets, as did Byanka. She did so quickly and cleanly, since more were appearing. Three down, nine to go.

Byanka grit her teeth as she moved for her second target, hoping Jarro was going for the seer. Hopefully, the seer would not be able to defend himself, or at least less able than the guards. Byanka blocked a guard's sword and brought her fist, tight around the hilt of her sword, into the man's face, likely breaking his jaw or at least knocking a few teeth out.

Suddenly, there was a resounding boom that made Byanka feel as if her eardrums had burst. She stumbled back and cried out as light seared behind her eyes. It felt as if someone had her brain in a tight grip, and she barely managed to open her eyes; just enough to tell the sound had come from below- from the Construct.

On pure instinct she returned her gaze to the guard she was supposed to be fighting, just in time to see him swing his sword towards her. She managed to pull herself out of the way just in time, her shaking fingers digging into the snow. The guard wasted no time before kicking her in the spine, hard enough to make her vision go white once more. Her eyes were watering and blood was dripping from her nose and her ears; her scarf had fallen from around her face.

She swung out her leg behind her in a kick from where she lay on her side, and felt her leg connect with the guard's, taking him by surprise and sending him stumbling. She used the brief seconds she had earned to pull her self to her knees, her grip still firm on her sword. She swung blade towards the returning guard, metal singing as his own sword met hers. She grit her teeth and groaned, pushing forward, her arms shaking as she slowly got to her feet once more. Her knees threatened to give out, but she fought to stay standing. Thinking on the spot, she brought her armored thigh up between the man's leg, relishing for perhaps the first time in her life the pain that lit up his features. His sword slid from hers and he bent over. She gripped the back of his head with one hand brought her thigh up onto his nose, which shattered on impact, spraying the snow with bright red blood.

She managed to shove his limp body away from her, stumbling as the world spun and flipped. She brought her hands to her face and they came away slick with blood

Faramund Saskia Kerraelas Nacht

 

[Faramund]

Jumping to his feet, Faramund threw himself at the construct as it struck out a second time, felling trees and kicking up a wall of snow in the process. Whatever invisible force it was knifing its way through the forest came back towards him. He felt his cloak rip and tear where it trailed behind him, the cold stabbing at him with every step he took.

Bringing his sabre about, Faramund delivered a blow to the construct's chest. Bone gave way.

Even so, it was not enough.

Shoved back by magic, he leaned aside, narrowly avoiding the construct's clawed hand. The other, still clutching the orb, was held just out of reach. Bastard's taunting me, the dawnling had time to think, ducking in to strike at the construct's leading leg. He felt it stagger a moment.

A moment was all he needed to knock the orb from its hands, towards the edge of the forest.

'Roe! Breklinn! Destroy that fucking-' Whatever he had been about to say ended in a grunt as something powerful collided with his chest, tossing him backwards into a snowdrift.

Monroe

---​

At the top of the hill...

The first four sentries go down easily enough, caught unawares by the kill-team's sudden attack. Braemar and Jarro clash with their chosen targets, putting both down in quick succession. For a moment, the way to the Seer is clear. No more guards, no more constructs. Just a lone figure in black robes crusted by ice and snow.

And blood, Braemar realises belatedly, looking closer.

He does not notice the construct as it surges over the rim of the hill to his right. Jarro does. 'Brae! On your right!' He starts to yell, gesticulating wildly as, closer still, three of the six remaining guard rush back towards you.

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Nacht