Quest Terror in Strormhold

[Nightmare]

2nd of Fall, 514 AV

The plan was set when the caravan made their way to the gates of the city of Peace. Not all knew about what was to come, but enough of the caravan knew of their true mission that they were on restless with it to commence. Wind ruffled the hair of the lead as he looked back and marked out all those who would be necessary, and those who had just tagged along for the protection, and made him a quick miza. All were in place.

Mercenaries hired for both their reliability and their prowess in the field ranged out around the caravan. They were relaxing their vigilance, and for good reason. Syliras was probably the safest place in the world. The land around it had patrols of knights that kept the bandits from becoming too active and the monsters and animals from coming too close to the city. They knew what to do when the time came. The man doing the honors made this job so much sweeter. The lanky fellow chosen for the spark had been pressed ganged into the this to protect his family. He would not return, but his legacy would be well taken care of.

The spark was tucked carefully away and would be easily pulled out and activated. Simple enough, open the box, make some chaos, do the job. Said job was coming up quick at that. The gate guards hailed them, "Hail! Where be ye from?" To which the lead gave his best smile, probably lost at that distance, and replied, "Zeltiva Ser! We come bearing, Timber, Gadgetry and Zeltivian Cuisine."

In a moment the knights had those in the caravan wait as the wagons were searched before being searched themselves. It took time and the knights were thorough. Knives and weapons were ignored, as were any personal objects. The lead was certainly not going to risk the mission with contraband. At last the lead gave the sparkholder a sign and the man made a run for it. It took mere moments to reach the gate. He then pointed the box towards the gate and opened it.

The effect was immediate and catastrophic.

As soon as the lid was released light shot from the lid, and near immediately a deafening boom. All those around, the caravan, the knights and those beyond the gate were flattened by the shockwave. Those looking towards the gate were blinded as the man with the box was consumed by white light. Seconds later, far too quickly for anyone to process there was a succession of explosions. It started at the gates and spread outward, further into the city. There was nothing quite like the sound of it. The closest it might have been would be the fiercest of storms with dozens of strikes. A rapid succession of bursts and booms that ended with a sudden silence.

The great gate was simply... gone. Two walls without a roof, the splinters of the gate and a mass of mangled iron was all that was left. The man and the two knights with it as well as those in and around the gate. Smoldering husks littered unshielded beyond, and great chunks of masonry and stone dotted the landscape around the walls and on the street. One particularly large piece smashed a wagon, but the caravan itself seemed unharmed.

That was when those in the caravan acted. Those who knew the plan were already moving. They grouped up into threes and made for the smoldering remains of the gate.

[Garland]

Garland was heading to the city gates, he was on his way to meet his Patron Knight in the woods. He was around a few buildings, walking slowly around the corner. He looked towards the gate, he still had a long way to go. He regretted drinking in the Herald Arms last night, he had returned to the dormitories late last night, and waking up early plus walking towards the woods was really hard for someone who had been drinking last night. He was never hung over, but he was lethargic, because it was so early or at least he felt like it.

He yawned as he rounded the corner, about to see the gate. But before he could turn there was a loud boom that woke him up, a huge shockwave that knocked him back to the ground, waking his muscles, and a bright light that went up to the sky that blinded him momentarily.

His head was spinning, and his muscles were aching. the shockwave was strong enough to remove his blade from his person. His sword landed a few feet away from him, along with his shield. He slowly got up, his body screamed to just lie down, but he wasn't going to have any of it. He panted heavily, trying to get air into his lungs. He leaned on the building for support, he coughed and looked up.

The city was on fire, or least a majority of the buildings, he looked back to the city, some of the streets leading to the gates were blocked by rubble. He looked over to the gates, seeing people pouring in from a few caravans. "What the Hai..." He staggered forward and grabbed his sword and shield.

His vision was clearing, and body feeling back to normal, he looked back to some of the rubble covered streets, there wouldn't be a lot of reinforcements from the main road, he had to hold them off for as long as he could.

He sprinted down the street towards the destroyed gate, hoping that he could hold out long enough for some help to come forward. The training he had yesterday was starting to be a big help, he quickly got into position and using the momentum from his dash to impale one of the mercenaries that was unlucky enough not notice the sprinting squire towards him.

He kicked off the limp body of one of the mercenaries, leaving him sprawled down on the ground. He rasps his sword on his shield, issuing a challenge to these armed mercenaries. He then took a long look around the area, there was a lot more than meets the eye. he was insanely outnumbered. Looks like this was it. A lost cause if he ever seen one. I hope Kelwyn is watching this... He had hoped some reinforcements were coming in, heck, a squire or two would be enough for his morale to boost up.

The others were starting to surround him, their numbers were boosting their own morale. There looked like where was no way out unless he could fight his way out, which was unlikely.

[Revy Hiroe]

Revy's day had started rather dull, yet slightly ominous if she believed in bad signs. She was ordered by her patron to help out with the caravan inspecting. It would give her some on hand experience about a regular day for a knight of Syliras as she said. But it had been nothing more then your average guard job. She had done these kind of jobs quite often as a mercenary. Clad in her steel armor, she worked together with the knights at the gate. Though because she wore her longsword on her hip and her greatsword on her back, they were starting to call her walking armory. Technically they were right. She had five different types of weapons and currently had three types with her. Her dagger was hidden behind her greatsword. The caravan that came brought a rather familiar face to the scene for the ex-mercenary. The guy in question was well into his fifties already. One of the mercenaries guarding the caravan was Nolan Kavalski, a guy Revy owed her life to. Way back when she was just a little girl, back when she had just started her 'mercenary' work, scouting ahead for caravans rooting out possible dangers, he saved her from a rabid wolf when the caravan, she worked for, got attacked by a pack of them. 'Till this day she hadn't forgot it and thus she greeted him. "Nolan, you old runt, how are you still alive?", she asked him in her thick sunberthian accent. "I was sure that them whores would do you in, yer bloody skirt-chaser." The old man in question, his beard and hair grey from stress and worries, replied: "But ye know no damn woman can ever do me in, lil' girl.". He noticed the fact that Revy was working with the knights and had an inkling that she might turn into his enemy. It was unfortunate, but his mission was far too promising. The pay was absolutely terrific and if he wasn't going to survive, he woudl at least not die as a weak old man sitting somewhere awaiting his death. "It would be unfortunate to have you as an enemy. Ye turned into one fine lass." And then the explosion went off. Revy and Nolan were getting smacked to the ground, however Nolan reacted much faster then Revy, drawing his weapon and immediately following the plan layed out before. Revy was dazed, unsure of what happened at first. Only when she heard the other knights yell out about the situation, did she realize what had happened. Without hesitation, she drew her greatsword free from it's sheath. Still not totally used to the weapon, she still decided to go with it. Mistakes she'd make were most likely gonna be handled by her plate armor. She glanced up and saw the giant hole that had been left there by the explosion. She almost wanted to stand there gaping at the hole, but she had to react to one of the other mercenaries attacking her. Quickly clapping down her visor, she slung the weapon onto her shoulder, taking hold of the handle at the pommel with both her hands. That way it would have a lot more speed to it and thus more destructive force. The guy charging at her wasn't gonna be able to block it, he would have to dodge it as she swung it out. Her mark allowing her to swing it at a much higher velocity then she would normally be able to. The man charging her had seen that the woman wasn't too experienced with that weapon and thus had underestimated her. He took he slash on his sword, barely able to block it with his warhammer. The force was large enough to blow him off his feet, a situation the woman immediately capitalized on to finish this guy off. She let the weapon keep the speed it had left but changed the direction first up and then downward onto the enemy. The unfortunate man never drew breath again. But now she had a much bigger problem to deal with. The knights that were left standing were outnumbered by the mercenaries and she knew that unless they were going to get help soon, the knights and her were probably not gonna be able to survive this.

[Oriah]

Oriah had waited all morning for the Zeltivan caravan to arrive.

"I wonder what they'll bring?" she asked no one in particular as she rode Pie into the city at the crack of dawn. "Food? Silks? Ohh, perhaps books..."

Sera Mora had been the first, predictably, to spot the merchant procession. As part of their routine, she and her squire had scaled up and down their lookout trees as they tracked the caravan's progress for a half a bell. Oriah was excited when her patron suggested it might be carrying Zeltivan goods--how Mora knew this the squire had long since chalked up to the Chaktawe's impressive arsenal of secrets--but Mora herself was skeptical.

"Something is not right..." she muttered once they lost sight of the caravan. And that was all the explanation Oriah was going to get.

The knight issued her squire a series of profoundly brief and equally mystifying orders. For some reason or other, Oriah was to ride ahead of the caravan and wait for its arrival within the city gates. She would take every shortcut she knew and ride as fast as both she and Pie could be pushed. When questioned where the Chaktawe would be during this time, Mora only provided more cryptic answers.

"I want you to be my eyes within the city," she responded calmly as she packed up her gear. Oriah knew it as a sign that meant they would not be going together. "I could be wrong, and this group of traveling merchants be of no harm to anyone. But it would be prudent to remain cautious. I will be seeking consultation elsewhere. There's no need to raise alarms yet, but stay alert and close by to the gates. And be safe, Little One. I shall return soon."

Then she was off. And oh how very, very wrong Mora had been, for the first time in Oriah's squireship, of there being no need to raise alarms.

The boom that shook the entire city had knocked the Benshira straight to the ground. She'd been loitering around for a couple of bells, growing bored, letting her guard down, when the world exploded in deafening storms and quakes.

Oriah scrambled back onto her feet and raced for the gates, ignoring for now the succession of booms that traveled through the city. She had only a brief moment to worry if Pie was unharmed within her pen at Windmount stables before she caught sight of the devastation of what used to be the great gate of Syliras and went slack jawed.

It was just....gone.

Nothing but splinters, crumbling walls, and the burnt husks of bodies were left. It was the first time Oriah had seen such horrific, blatant destruction. And the bodies...so many bodies...

She felt the urge to retch snake its way up from her gut. And she might've given into it, had something far more urgent stolen her attention instead.

There were people rushing into the city. The people guarding the caravan! Oriah realized within an instant of seeing a few of their clothes and faces. They must have been the ones responsible for the catastrophic explosion. There was no other explanation, not with the grim determination that seemed to be etched on all of their faces. And they appeared to be spreading out in groups of three's...that meant organization, planning. Intention.

All those dead people. All those dead sisters and brothers of the Order. And these were the fiends responsible. It flared an anger within Oriah that she seldom felt and it sent fire coursing through each of her limbs. "May Yahal's justice be served swiftly and mercilessly today."

Then she withdrew both shortsword and buckler from her hip and back, one in each hand, just like she and Sera Mora had practiced the day before.

Oriah caught a glimpse of others joining the defense of their shining city. One even looked to be a fellow squire, given his choice of weaponry. Her two comrades, one male and one female, brought down almost an entire unit of enemies. But one managed to slip away and had evidently decided to move on without the others. Spirits bolstered by their common cause, the Benshira tightened her grip around her shield and sword and started running to cut off this lone survivor.

The mercenary was quick, but Oriah was quicker. She knew the city better after all and had the fire of wrath fueling her every action. So it was that when the survivor rounded a corner, Oriah did as well from the opposite side and collided buckler first into the merc. She didn't quite managed to knock the enemy down, but when they looked up to meet each other's eyes, the squire felt a tremor of shock course through her body.

It was a woman. And a comely one at that, one who might have at some point in her life had kindness in her eyes. The merc seemed to have the same reaction, seeing a lass as young as Oriah bear arms against her. For moment, it felt like both of them might change their minds about this fight. But then the woman's face hardened, and Oriah knew only one of them could walk away alive.

With a startlingly ferocious roar, the mercenary withdrew her sword and charged. Oriah was ready for this, however, and raised her buckler in a defensive stance. She watched the woman's sword as it drew near, searching for any signs of cunning to be used against her. After so many bells of having her patron charge at her in a much deadlier fashion, the squire was less daunted than she otherwise would have been and was able to spot the feint before it was fully executed.

When the woman twisted at the last tick to change her downward hack into a horizontal slice aimed for Oriah's belly, the squire lowered her shield, meeting the edge of the mercenary's blade with a clang as it sparked against the metal center of her buckler. Then, with an automaticness that came with endless bells of training, she raised her own sword and plunged it into the woman's chest.

Oriah stared, uncomprehending at first of what she'd just done, as the mercenary gurgled her last bloody breath before she sank to the ground, pulling the sword with her. The squire stumbled forward and almost fell with the dying merc, but caught herself in time with one foot planted squarely next to her victim's body. Then she looked down at the woman's confused expression. This time, she did retch. Twice, in fact, before Oriah realized there was no more life in the merc's eyes, and that her sword was still buried halfway through the woman's chest.

With a panicked desperation, she yanked out the sword and stared at the bright red blood that coated its tip. Oriah froze for a moment before wiping it on the dead merc's cloak, trying her best to rid her sword of the crimson stain. Once that was finished she just stood there for a few ticks, armor askew from all that running, strands of hair sticking out from her once perfectly neat braid.

"The gate..." she muttered to herself through the haze of shock and horror of what she had just done. "I have to get back to the gate..."

Oriah blinked, sheathed her sword, slung her buckler back on her shoulder, and trotted back to where the first explosion had occurred.

[Nightmare]

The first response by the knights was actually an accident. About the time that the Gate was destroyed a wing of knights headed by a sergeant Yon Kanaan was already on their way back. Indeed, they were not far behind the caravan when it was stopped and searched. However, when the they struck, Yon Marshalled his group into action. He came into the fray shouting, "Fall back to the city! Fall back!"

The Sergeant took no time to think about leaning over and picking up one of the squired females on the battlefield, his enormous Akalakian strength pulling her up onto his his horse. Though it was likely Revy was rather flustered by the manhandling, it also saved her life. Behind them, if she chose to look back, four bandits, or perhaps mercenaries were running after them as the knights and squires near the gate retreated into the city.

The issue was that including his knights and the squires about, there were to many of the enemy. The knights manning the gate were gone with the blast and Yon was the first on the scene. Yon pointed to one of the squires, Garland, who just dispatched one of the mercenaries/bandits. "You! Squire. You follow Hannalore, do what she says." He then pointed a blond knight who was dismounting her horse and pulling her sword out. Yon then issued the remaining knights to set up a line until reinforcements came. "You" He pointed at Oriah, "Same goes for you. And you" He offered his hand to Revy to help Revy off his horse. "Hannalore is your superior now."

He turned his attention to Sera Hannalore. "Make sure no one gets into the city. This is likely a distraction. They don't have the numbers to decimate us, unless they have a force nearby or more powerful magics. More likely they have an ulterior motive. Vira! Get over here. Go to Loren, he probably already knows, but tell him we are here. Send anyone our way if you meet up with them. Yahal knows we need the help."

Vira, a stout Isur nodded and trotted off. Such a creature had legendary stamina for running, a perfect courier. They were in dire straits. They were only eight men and women. Five knights and three squires against five times that. The squires, while eager and perhaps mildly skilled had to be written off as unknowns. Untested. They would be support and not on the front lines.

Yon started issuing out orders to the remaining knights, getting everyone prepared during that lull. Likely the enemy was disorganized themselves, perhaps even surprised by the magnitude of the blast. Hannalore turned to her newly acquired charges, "Okay you three. I don't know how much training you've had, but this is serious. Don't try to be a hero. Only fight if you have no choice. We are the final line of defence, so we need to make sure that no one gets through if they rush us. If they do, you need to you chase after them. Make sure they don't get away. Again, do not engage, follow them and don't lose them." She adjusted her gauntlet "Hopefully it won't come to that. Protect any innocents if you can, just try not to lose your life in the process."

"Alright? Ready? Because here they come."

Men worked their way through the rubble filled remains of the gate. Tactically it created a bottleneck. Which was to the knight forerunner's advantage. Men with glinting weapons came at the knights. The wing's mage knight began flinging explosive balls of fire as the enemy's mage countered with a hastily spun shield over himself and a few of his compatriots. The sound of steel against steel and the whoosh and concussive blasts of magic masked much of the screaming and orders being made. The chaos of the gates made it difficult to track the entire battle. Thus it was no surprise that a few made it past the knights.

Three bodies broke from the chaos and made for the city. Hannalore quickly dispatched one, her skills apparent in the fluid movement despite the encumberance of full plate. She pointed to the other two. "Go!" She bellowed.

[Garland]

Garland's prayers had been answered partially, there was a large patrol of knights running into the fray killing the mercenaries that were around Garland and the other squires.

Garland gave a relieved sigh but dared not lower his guard in this fight. With the bandits and mercenaries retreating to formulate an attack plan, the squires and knights were given a brief reprieve from the fight.

Garland looked over to the knights that had joined in the fray. They looked ready to fight, but they were heavily out numbered. They had better have a good plan or they won't last long.

You! Squire. You follow Hannalore, do what she says."

"Yes Ser." He said, and looked over to Sera Hannalore, listing intently to her instructions. It seemed like the other knights and mages were getting ready to fight. "Orders Sera?"

"Okay you three. I don't know how much training you've had, but this is serious. Don't try to be a hero. Only fight if you have no choice. We are the final line of defence, so we need to make sure that no one gets through if they rush us. If they do, you need to you chase after them. Make sure they don't get away. Again, do not engage, follow them and don't lose them. Hopefully it won't come to that. Protect any innocents if you can, just try not to lose your life in the process."

"But Sera! I can hel- right, I was speaking out of line. Sorry." Garland said, as much as he wanted to be in the frontlines fighting the bandits, he knew that protecting the people of inside the city is more important than personal glory.

"Alright? Ready? Because here they come."

Garland watched the battle unfold, mages started firing balls of fire towards line of bandits coming in. A few archers would have been a great help right now, they could thin their numbers before the actual clash. Garland watched the carnage, hearing the sounds of fire, explosions, clanging of metal, and screams of the dying, these sounds were helping him focus, helping him keep his mind on the battle.

In the melee he could see that on both sides there were people being stabbed, cut, slashed, mutilated, burned and decapitated all around. In the mash of flesh and metal, there were a few that slipped through the carnage and through the lines.

Three of them were charging pass. Garland was already running after one, a large 7" giant, he tackled the large menace and took him down, sending his weapon off to the side, out of reach.

The large mercenary was no stranger to battle, evidence by the scarred and heavily tattooed face. The angry looking attacker gave a strong headbutt towards Garland's nose. The squire recoiled back and landed on his back. Blood dripped down his nose and his left eye stung painfully.

The red-faced mercenary stood over Garland and raised his boot over his head. Garland rolled over to the side and quickly stood up. A bloody nose and a black eye never stopped him before and it won't now.

Garland raised up his sword to attack him, but the attacker easily knocked the sword out of Garland's hand, sending it off to the side. Garland raised up his shield to blocked the incoming flurry of punches following his disarmament. He had little formal training with his shield and soon enough he lost it's grip.

Garland countered with a backhand across the face and then a strong kick to the gut. The man recoiled back, not expecting such a strong counterattack. Garland took the opportunity and jumped forward and gave a strong punch to the face and then following it up with a kick across the face.

If there was any other squire in Garland's position, they would do the sensible and logical thing and try to get a weapon, but Garland was not really the sensible or logical type. The hulking mercenary grabbed Garland by the throat and started strangling him.

The man raised Garland up easily, and started tightening the grip around his neck. Garland's vision started darkening, his chest burning, his heart beating. Garland tried to pry the large hands from his neck, but even if he had been on the ground with better footing, he wouldn't be able to pry them off.

As a last ditch effort, Garland placed his hands on the bandit's head, and pressed his thumbs deep into the man's eyes, making them bleed. His screams were then added to the usual sound of violence and explosions in the area. Garland pressed his thumbs in harder, making his eyes gush out blood, making his cheeks run red as if he was crying blood.

Garland was dropped to the ground, coughing, but not letting go. Garland dug his hand in deeper, almost as if his whole thumb was inside of his skull. Garland pulled the man's head down and then kneed his face, sending him back to the ground.

Garland stepped over him and started stomping his head in until it was nothing but a squishy mess of blood and flesh. Garland was tried, he was breathing heavily and felt like he was about to pass out, but he had a duty to uphold and he was going to see it through. He went over to his sword and picked it up, ready to return to his post and keep watch for any more stragglers.

[Oriah]

Oriah was relieved to find fully armored members of the Order manning the decimated gates. She had been afraid she would be too late, that the enemy had won during her clash with the swordswoman. But her sisters and brothers in arms had arrived at the scene of destruction and were rallying together, led by a knight shouting orders left and right.

Never in her life had Oriah felt more grateful for the existence of discipline and order. If this had been a type of group less devoted or trained, she was certain they'd never succeed in defending the city.

A bark of command aimed in her direction sent her attention snapping forward. The Benshira nodded to the Knight as he assigned her to aid Sera Hannalore, a blond woman who was dismounting her horse. Every nerve of her body was charged with adrenaline and hyper awareness. She followed after the others, taking her place as her azure eyes scanned for signs of their enemies.

It was nerve wracking, waiting for danger to come to them instead of hunting it down first, but Oriah was ready for this. More so than she had realized. For an entire season, Sera Mora had been training her squire's patience. Pushing and testing it to its very limits. There had been times Oriah had wanted to snap, to quit, to at the very least fling her weapon as far as she could manage. But always, she was led to conquer her compulsions. Steel her resolve, focus on what was more important, and reach some level of steadying conviction.

Because they had only one job in this moment, and every last one of them would see to it's end. Or die trying.

Oriah held her shortsword and buckler loosely at her sides, saving her arm strength until she absolutely needed it. If there was one thing she learned after so many hours spent training with her patron, it was that whatever she lacked in brawn, she would have to make up for in precision and brains. Her choice of weaponry had been chosen with her size in mind. To pretend otherwise would be foolish and eventually fatal.

So it was that when the enemies finally started crawling out from all of the rubble, her arms did not fail her. She raised her weapons, expression grim but determined, as she watched the armed men approach. Her eyes widened at the incredible display of power that one of the Mage Knight's displayed, dazzled momentarily by the fiery explosions.

There were only a few ticks of alarm to spare as she saw a giant attacker attempt to mow down one of the other squires. And then another enemy was plowing his way between Oriah and another Knight. The two were locked for one, harrowing moment at a standstill, swords pressed against one another's, before the swordsman pulled a dirty trick and aimed for a weak spot in the Knight's leg armor. Oriah's fellow armsman cried out in pain as his shin gave and he fell to one knee, right about the same time that his attacker broke free of their ranks.

The Benshira didn't give it a second thought. She chased, sword and buckler still in her hands, with all of the speed her legs could muster. There was a woosh of air that whistled past her right ear before the man she pursued gave a short cry and stumbled. Oriah refused to look back. She was too zeroed in on her target, to the point where she hardly even slowed as she charged into the limping swordsman. They crashed down onto the ground, limbs akimbo, shouts and grunts erupting as each struggled to get to their feet first.

Fortunately for Oriah, whoever had shot that arrow had gotten the attacker in the left calf. It gave her the edge she needed as she rose a hair before her opponent. With a fury-fueled swing, the Benshira rammed her buckler against the man's jaw in a wild uppercut. It almost missed, but it got him right on the very edge of the shield and spent him sprawling back on his arse.

"Yahal show no mercy to a murderer such as this one," Oriah rasped, chest laboring from effort and anger.

The attacker neither begged for his life nor showed and fear. He simply looked at the young squire in the eye as she plunged her sword into his chest, blood gurgling from his lips before he fell limp against the earth.

This time, Oriah did not retch. Instead, she wiped her sword and jogged back to rejoin the line of defense, refusing to acknowledge any emotion other than righteous conviction. Not one of these enemies was getting through Knights and squires alike into the city. She and the rest would make absolute sure of it.

[Revy Hiroe]

The squire was looking around to see if there was a spot where she could assist, but before she could find it she was lifted upon a horse, seemingly out of nowhere. Almost had she lost grip on her weapon, but she managed to hold onto it. She got lucky before, when she had pulled that weapon out, but it might be best to sheathe it there and then.

After she got off the horse, refusing the hand of the knight, she listened to what he had to say. At least she wasn't receiving orders from a guy, which was a bonus. "Yes ser.", she just answered. She didn't thank him for saving her, but she didn't really think it was needed. It was his job, just like it was hers to protect the people right now.

Reporting to Sera Hannalore was nothing more then procedure. Receiving her orders almost popped hey eyes out in disbelief. She was supposed to hold back when there was a battle going on in front of her? What was that woman thinking? Revy was accustomed to fighting in a group. Hai, she had even been marked by Myri, goddess of battle and victory. Almost did she want to object, but remembering her patron, she thought it'd be wiser to keep her mouth shut.

Instead, she just simply drew her longsword, after throwing her greatsword to the wall. It was in an obvious place, she wouldn't have trouble finding it back. She just needed to get rid of it for now, as it would be too impeding on her mobility. She wanted to use everything she had right now to give herself an advantage. Because of that mentality, she also let her gnosis power flow throughout her body, while whispering a prayer to Myri: "Myri, grand me strength to cut down my foes. Grant me the speed to evade their blows and land my own. This fight is dedicated to you, I fight for your glory."

When the mercenaries started their assault again, she gripped her sword extremely hard. The female hated the fact that her targets were getting cut down by magic, but right now she couldn't complain. Even she could see that they needed everything to hold this position. She had to hold herself back from just running into the fray and joining the fight.

When three of those guys broke through, Revy was first to react, even before the knight gave her the order. However, she decided to go after the same guy the knight went for and was late for the kill. Instead she now saw the other two squires deal with those mercenaries. "Bloody PETCH.", she cussed right away. She wanted to have some fun with one of them. She'd even hold back if needed.

They seemed to fight okay, but that was about it. They wouldn't last in the bloodbath that was unfolding in front of them. Would it be okay for her to go in there? She had to ask for permission first thought. "Sera, may I join the knights on the front line in the fight? I feel completely useless here. I also have a few personal scores to settle with some of them.", she said while still focusing completely on the battlefield.