Quest Attack on Riverfall[Frontline]

[Mist]

70 Fall 512 The front of the battle. What else could be said about it? Rows of fighters, mostly Akalak's, made up the force. All of those who were mainly skilled in close combat, whether with blade or fist. It was a hodgepodge of weaponry, spears, maces, axes, swords, daggers and lakan. Anything and everything. Several ranks of men made up the frontline, with the far left and right flank merging into the calavary, fighters on horseback. It was here that several empty spots were left, for people to come soon. On the far right flank, just as the grounded soldiers began to trickle off and change into the men who would come riding in on horses. The calavary was an odd mix, some Akalak, but quite a few drykas and other races. Everyone was waiting, for the foes to come into sight... So far, all that could be seen in front of them was the bare empty grassland. Just in front of them, stood a 3 foot deep trench, dug across the entire frontline and battlefield. That way, any yukmen to make it to the first fighters, would be fighting a uphill battle, while blows could be rained down from above. Those that made it past the ensuing barrage of long range attacks. Several spots were left empty in the second rank, on the far right flank of the soldiers. One, for another fighter, an Akalak, though not born of Riverfall. A healer and archer, who would be acting at a field medic, and perhaps even get into the fighting a bit to. Next to were he was positioned, was a bundle of arrows readied for him, 50 normal arrows for a longbow, along with a smaller bundle of 20 armor piercing arrows. Though one would wonder why those would be needed against yukmen. And next to that spot, another semi empty spot, a rider without a horse. Which in and of itself was a bit odd. All he would say was his horse had not yet arrived, and the Akalak rider was getting increasingly perturbed as he waited for his mount. He had a longsword on his back, along with a lakan at his waist, and a spear in his hand. All there was left to do was wait... Wait for the last few men to arrive, and wait for the foes to come roaring in...

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He was ready, or as ready as he could be for the oncoming onslaught that was to come. He wasn’t a fighter like some of these men. But obviously someone thought he could hold his own or else they wouldn’t waste the time or put forward the risk of placing him here on the frontline of the assault. He knew though that his primary role would be one of a healer; he was to dampen the wounds so the men could keep fighting onward through the ranks that would come to them. He viewed his role as an important one though, because if he did his job right he could keep them fighting instead of dying. But it would be a challenge because he had never seen the intense chaos that was large scale warfare.

His mind was prepared, he had centered his thoughts on his singular goal. To heal; but in order to do this he would also likely have to take lives along the way. Having never heard of Yukman before he knew it would be a sudden discovery as he found out what he was dealing with. But he had seen horrors before and his mind was somewhat numb to the reality that this would likely be far different than anything he had ever seen before. These facts could not shake him though, he wouldn’t allow them to. Because he needed to be a healer for these fighters; his hands and skills could hold death at bay and life in the balance. He knew this, and balance of the mind was extremely important right now. His mind needed to keep nimble.

He had prepared his soul, issuing a prayer to Rak’keli to help guide him in this battle. Asking forgiveness for the lives he would doubtlessly have to take; and praying for healing for those he would have to lay hands on in her name. It was a very delicate act of life and death. And he knew he would see plenty of both in the next upcoming bells. He meditated and sent a very stern prayer to Rak’keil. He knew he would be tested here; but he also knew he couldn’t allow the forces to be penetrate these defenses for many innocents would be killed in the fray. He wanted guidance, but knew that Rak’keli knew who she marked when she marked him. She knew he wouldn’t be just a simple healer in her name. No his scars told her a far different story; he was a guardian.

Muscles were loose and ready as well, his very body was aware of the assault it would receive. He would be hit, maimed, and likely injured heavily. But he would continue, he couldn’t and wouldn’t let mere injuries slow him down. If his body ached he would push it, if it started to shut down he would wake it up, if it started to fail he would force onward…head down pommel onward to keep himself going. He had mentally prepared himself for the pain he would receive; knowing full well he was going to receive on hell of a beating even if things went right.

His array of weapons mirrored that of some of his Akalak counterparts. He carried his version of a lakan at his side; it held as much value to him as a lakan did any Akalak. It had been made especially for him and for his hands alone. He wore both of those daggers on his weapon harness, both of them pointing hilt down on his chest so he could easily pull them free and strike out. Below the harness sat his white breastplate that he had taken care of painting the mark of Rak’keli on. This easily identified him as a healer to any who looked. The mark itself was in blue paint on the front and the back of his plate. At his right hip was his climbers quiver fastened securely beside the unfinished coldsteel gladius that K’sien had entrusted him with. On his legs was the white scalemail that would serve to protect him just like the breastplate would. Stretched in his hands was his ornate Konti longbow…which was the reason for the arrows at his post.

He gladly picked them up and quivered all of them, taking care to position the armor piercing ones toward the outside right so he could quickly determine what he was drawing when the time came. He didn’t want to end up in a pinch and be unable to perform like he needed. His skills came flying back into his mind from Ildin. Had she trained him for this? The leather messenger style bag at his side was full of the tools he may or may not need today, he was hoping that his gnosis abilities wold be enough alone. However it would be irresponsible to come to the frontines and not bring prepared medicine. He had spent several bells preparing medicines with Kavala, and Elem. And he now had a messenger bag full of the concoctions. But was he really ready for this?

The answer came back to him in his mind…Yes….I am ready

[Xalet]

Xuphim could reflect upon the days when his and Xalet's battle experience was at an absolute minimum. What happened to that innocence? In the years past he had found himself in the midst of several different combat situations, involving a wide variety of opponents. Single combat was quite common, as was fighting situations when he was out numbered. Small skirmishes were also something he had some experience in, one of them specifically taking place against Yukmen some years ago. Large scale battles involving hundreds or thousands of men were one of the last gaps of battle experience he had left to fill, and although he had drilled for years in Syliras, learning how to fight as a member of an army, the test pitting his own mortal life against opponents had never come, until now. The dark brother sometimes wondered if conflict just followed him wherever he traveled. Upon his emergence, it seemed the Akalak was caught up in conflict across several regions. The brothers had a common trait, in that they both did not mind. This was what they had trained for, after all. A life of wooing (perhaps unsuccessfully) women and kicking small scale ass was fine, but there was something about a battle of this scale that brought the bitter taste of adrenaline to Xuphim's tongue. Even as he arrived on the line, Xuphim was downing water from his waterskin. He had already refilled the container a few times, and knew from the mental pounding he had gotten from his Patron about the values of proper hydration before a conflict. It didn't matter what the ambient temperature was outside, when you wore three layers of armor, you were going to sweat. The only question was how long could you go before the sweat ran out, and you were risking collapsing from exhaustion. The first immediate layer of armor that touched his skin was his gambeson, as much a necessity in proper armor wear as it was useful in dampening the effect of bludgeoning attacks. The thick fabric was filled with a batting of quilted cotton, keeping the metal away from the large Akalak's skin and allowing the fabric to 'give' as heavy blows encountered the outer levels of metal armor. Chainmail came atop that, an excellent way to ward off a skilled cut. Then, the final layer, that famed Syliran plate. The most important parts of the body sat encased in the rolled steel. A cuirass protected the torso, shoveled greaves covered the shins, thick poleyns protected the knee, hinged bracers latched in securely around the forearms, finger gauntlets covered the delicate hands, cruisses enshrouded the upper thigh, sollerets sat articulated upon the boots, pauldrons for the shoulders, and finally a gardbrace was latched upon the right shoulder and top portion of the breastplate. Armor had a special place in Xuphim's heart. To some it could be considered a cowards ward, but after a decade of lugging it around even the thick-headed Xuphim recognized armor took skill to wear and utilize properly. It was hot, it was heavy, and it kept Knights alive when they should have been long dead. Taking those last few swigs, Xuphim secured his arming cap upon his head. It wasn't very fashionable, considering it looked more like a bonnet than a piece of armor. "Well damn, they saved me a spot right next to the healer." his deep, gritty voice mentioned when he turned slightly to look at Serrif. "I don't know if I should be insulted or lucky, heh." he continued, adjusting his guige strap, the long lash of leather that allowed the shieldman to keep his heater upon his back until it was time to sling it around to mount upon the arm. His melee weapon of choice had always been the short sword, of which he now carried two, gifted to him by Wysar himself. The first sat in a typical 'sheathed at the hip' fashion on his left, while the second was secured across the small of his back horizontally. The bigger the shield, the smaller the sword his Patron would often say. For times when engaging wasn't an option, Xuphim had become fairly competent with his heavy crossbow as well, and he carried ten bolts of ammunition, just enough to often finish a job, but not too many to become unwieldy and cumbersome. "A Human too, now I feel like I'm back in Syliras. A friggen tall one at that. Name's Xuphim. Just saying in case you need to call me out. Back in Syliras 'Akalak' would have been enough, seein' as I was typically the only one. Dunno how they do things round these parts, but I'll do my best to keep your ass alive, and you do your best to make sure I end up in mostly one piece after this is over. If not, try to save the important parts, you feel me?" It was best to get all of that talking out of the way, considering the final piece of armor was the salet helm he lowered down upon his arming cap, the visor snapping shut, and the chin strap being cranked down tight enough to keep it from shifting in case he took a wallop to the noggin.

[Septimus]

This is what her training had brought her up to. This is what Septimus signed up for. Her sleek black coat was under pounds of armor which she still had some getting used to but it was worth the protection. The war horse had her head raised high with her tail swishing back and forth out of anxiety. Her white socks shined due to the sun that hit them as she elegantly paced her walking into the line of duty. Septimus examined everything that was going on as she passed. Many violet and blue hued men decorated the front line. Her barding clanked against itself as she weaved through the filled and empty positions. She was late as she had been snacking on some of the cool grass and gulping down water so she wouldn't be fatigued in that department. Walking wouldn't waste as much energy as that would be most definitely needed later. The Syliran style bridle adorned her face. Septimus had been working on getting used to that yet the slight pinching had still been annoying her. Her mane was covered due to the barding but her tail bellowed behind her large body almost like a banner in the slight breezes that occured every now and then. Adrenaline was coarsing through Septimus' body as she came to reality about what awaited her. There was no mistake that there was a high chance of her getting injured or possibly even killed but she attempted to force these thoughts out of her head. The healer beside her position didn't help that problem either yet she kept reminded herself that this was her purpose. Why else would she have been made a war horse? Her large nostrils flared and her heavy hooves made contact with the earth which sounded almost like small sample of thunder with every step. Her crystal blue eyes reflected small glints of the sun's rays as they caught bits and bits of it. "Keep calm Septimus. You have prepared as much as possible for this. This was not for a waste!" She scolded herself as she thought of being afraid. She needed to get ready to fight, angry to fight harder. Septimus tried to ignore the fact that she was getting strange stares and looks from people. But then again, who wouldn't look that way at a horse in full barding walking with no lead to the front line as if trained by a magician. Septimus was nearing her position and that same horsey grin appeared on her face as she saw the familiar Akalak. Her muscles were flexing as her body moved into her spot. With her last step, she was in position. She snickered then nudged Xuphim almost like a friendly greeting.

[Mist]

As a riderless horse rode up to its spot, it did not have long to wait, for things to start off. However it would be disapointed in the fact that the familiar Akalak would not be the one mounting it, but a unfamiliar one, the one with a spear in his grip. He was the cavalry man waiting on his ride, and with a frown on his face he climbed into the saddle, muttering under his breath somethnig about being given a horse that could talk, but not show up on time. Xuphim after all, was a simple footman in this battle. Fighting from the ground. Though there would be little time for Septimus to question it, as a horn sounded long and loud over the air. Out on the horizon, a lone figure could be seen, a yukman, running right at the line of warriors, the rest of the yukman following behind him like mindless lemmings, there ranks swelling and widening the further back they got. The next row a few steps further had 2 yukman... The next 4... Then Over twenty... The next more than seventy of them... And then the counting grew difficult, as they swarmed and intermingled, into the great column behind them. Over it all a single repeated sound could be heard... A high pitched shrill "YUK YUK!" as the monsters that looked more or less human came running... However with dusty dry skin, with cracks revealing its non-human nature, like dried ground splitting open... Occasionaly bits of rock and dirt were embedded into there skin... Though to someone who had seen yukmen before, and observed them, they might notice one small fact... They had a lot less unchanged bits than the average yukman... The chunks of rock dirt and grass few and far between... Though at this range it was hard to tell really, or to pick off such details. All that was obvious, was they could not be human, by there acts and voice alone. A single arrow came flying over head, lancing right into the left eye of the lead solo yukman. It fell to its knees and stumbled, only to be trampled by the ones behind it... Then more arrows were flying overhead, to the word of "fire!" Torrents of arrows, volleys, most missing, but many landing and taking out yukman, felling them to die or be trampled. The arrows stopped a row... Then another... Then it hit the mass of yukman, and dropped about every other in the front row... Then they made it through, a rank closing in and hitting the frontline of footmen, yelling there "YUK" sound, several taking down Akalak in groups, others having less success by themselves or in pairs even, against the skilled weaponmasters. As the catapults and trebuchets began to launch far overhead, several came running at Xalet and Serrif, 4 coming right at them, though still a bit off, giving them a chance to get off at least a single shot each before they closed in. A bit off, the cavalry was being ordered to charge, Septimus and her rider running off, to come at the mass of yukman from there vulnerable flanks, though at this point still wheeling around, not yet having made it to the horde.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

The large Akalak man’s words brought a smile to his face; he could get along well enough with these men if he needed to. And judging by this man it would be good to have him alongside him in the coming battle. He seemed to have a little more experience in such matters…although every Akalak man seemed to have more experience in battle than he did…but none had more experience in healing here. He knew this because he sensed no marks among the men. He was the one among many…This was his herd and he was to protect them to the best of his abilities.

“Names Serrif, just in case you need me Xuphim. I’ll do my best to keep you alive as well; Rak’keli willing. I’ve got you covered.” As if that was supposed to reassure the man at all that Serrif had his back. He was sure between the two of them that they would be able to manage. If he kept this man close he could do the healing that would likely be needed before sending the men back to be healed further.

He knew even before the battle started that they would need to keep the warriors here as long as possible to repel the attack effectively. His load out was a little heavier on the medicine side than the Akalak, he had cleared out all kinds of things from the clinic and stashed them in a leather satchel at his side. He knew he would need them soon enough…especially if the coming swarm was any indication of what was to be.

Like anything else it started slow and before Serrif knew it he had an arrow knocked and the bow drawn back. There at the tip of that long wooden shaft sat a truth he had taken some time to get to. He was about to take a life; something Ildin had prepared him for but never tested him on. Something he had fought over inside about for some time. But Rak’keli knew who she marked; a Guardian. She didn’t want him to be a meager healer. No, she could have gotten that from anyone; she had seen his ferocity and knew that he was more than just a healer. HE would stand for what was right as well as just.

And here he would stand alongside these Akalak men to defend this city. He knew he could die here along these other men and these horrible beasts. And even though his name would likely go without utterance into the night he knew that he wouldn’t die out like a flickering flame in the night. No, not now. He had work to do, he had a city to help protect. And he would indeed die trying if that was what this duty called for.

There were four of them, in a small group that seemed to almost take immediate action and notice to him and Xuphim. Looking downrange his bow was indeed already drawn almost as if his eye had been following them the entire time, and he had been growing suspicious of them. With a mental note the sting was let loose and the arrow hailed toward the indicated target. It met with all the force that would be expected from a longbow and bit deep into the beasts chest cavity.

Although Serrif knew immediately that having one down would not deter the four from rushing them. His right hand found his cold steel gladius and pulled it from the sheath. It was now or never and Serrif hardly had any experience in this type of large scale fighting. But the lessons learned in the dirt pit of the slave camp came to mind and he knew that he would have to use those lessons now if he was going to do any real good. His mind readied itself and even as he stared into the eyes of the vicious animal that raged toward him he knew he had seen far worse in the eyes of mortal men. These beasts he could indeed defeat; especially with an Akalak warrior at his side.

[Septimus]

Septimus' nostrils flared and she turned her head slightly as a large chunk of wait shifted onto her back. Her Akalak rider was heavy, but luckily, conditioning had improved her ability to carry a bit more weight than she was used to for a much longer time than before. No time was left for goodbye as her rider grasped her reins and when the order was given, the Akalak upon her back gently yet abruptly nudged her ribs with his boots "A simple go or hiya would be nice." she thought but there was no time for complaining as she ordered her body to enter a full gallop to the line. Her rider urged her onwards and from there she saw the Yukmen coming closer and closer. The war horse had flashbacks and replayed memories through her head. Especially since this could possibly be her funeral, though she tried not to think of it that way. Her mother and father were there again, she thought she could hug them. Septimus could hear them speak again but it faded away into a white light where more memories poured in. The flashbacks and memories were all there, all the while she still remained focused and wary of any signs or movements around her. Septimus saw the arrows whizz into the crowd of Yukmen taking several of them down row after row from her peripheral vision. Septimus controlled her breathing, her heart rate slowing down despite the heat her body's muscles were producing with every move she made. The barding harnessed some of the body heat in causing the Kelvic to begin to sweat dearly. Septimus pinned her ear's back as her blood began to boil from the memories of her parents still threatening to break through the mental barrier she had built.The adrenaline was speeding through her body, whisking through her veins. Everything around her was almost as if it slowed down but it sped right back up as the Yukmen's horrible calls and shrieks filled the air. She wanted to run. To run and hide and escape the battlefield as her instincts were telling her to do so but she had to continuously remind herself there was no turning back now. Not now, not ever. Clearing her large and racing mind she was focused on only several things; keeping her rider alive, keeping herself alive, and fighting. The Yukmen were hideous beings, with very cluttered and disgusting skin on the surface. Septimus' large nostrils were filled with the stench of sweat, mud, earth, and a whole mix of things.

[Xalet]

"Well...guess that's an army." Xuphim said under his breath as he recognized his inability to be able to visually estimate the amount of total opponents they would be facing. It was more than he had previously prepared for, though he held tightly onto his confidence. He would strangle that confidence if he needed to, because he couldn't let it go anywhere, not yet. Xalet had a way of showing the 'faith' that Priskil was supposed to be associated with, as well as Xuphim had his. Jamming the stirrup of his heavy crossbow onto the ground, the Akalak's old rawhide under-gloves pulled back upon the heavy cord, allowing it to rest securely into the notch. His meaty fingers slid past the opening of his bolt case, removing one and moving it securely into the groove. Raising the stock up toward his shoulder he aimed down range a pack that appeared to be coming their way and let loose a bolt at the appropriate distance. The disassociated movements of the creatures brought about some difficulty in maintaining a good sight picture, and his bolt merely buried its way into a creature's side, rather than striking a much more lethal target such as the center of the chest or the head. "Tch..." he grunted at his poor fortune, the healer was a better shot than he on this day. Slinging his crossbow around his body he replaced the space upon his back with it where his shield had been. The slightly curved heater moved onto his left arm in one well practiced motion, his right hand drawing forth one eerily glowing blue-metal sword out of the pair he carried. Some men had their way of dual wielding blades, but in an instance of facing superior numbers like this, the Akalak felt it much more appropriate to dual wield a sword and shield. Woe to those who felt a shield inadequate for attacking. "C'mon. C'mon!" he growled at one of the three still approaching, coaxing it to throw all of it's weight against him. He had to see what these creatures were capable off, and reassure himself that he was the strongest around. His knees bent slightly as the shorter creature threw it's body at his shield, his elbow flexing from the force of the impact. He couldn't even take a moment to think about how these things appeared to hit harder than he would have given them credit for when a set of hands gripped the outside edge of his shield. "Well brother, you always wanted ample opportunities to show other cultures how a Syliran fights." said the echoing voice of Xalet's thoughts, inserting themselves into the slowly waning fluidity of Xuphim's. It was enough to get him focusing again on defense, attack, and responding to the movements of opponents. "Heh, I'm going to make people who've never been in combat vomit when they see what a real fighting style is." Their communication moved along at the speed of their own thoughts, coming across just in time as Xuphim lifted up his shield side foot a mere foot and a half before slamming it down upon the shin and ankle of the Yukman trying to pull his shield away. His unarmed combat training combined with the weight of his armor as well as the strength he could exhibit which was unusual even for someone of his own race thanks to his body building caused whatever held the foot to the leg to break down. The unmistakable sound of bones collapsing shot through the air, causing the creature to start to fall regardless of it's will to stay on it's feet. Even as it was falling, Xuphim swiveled his hips and yanked the creature's body forward, pulling his shield to the rear so that he could more cleanly cleave his razor-like sword downward into the unobstructed neck and shoulder of his opponent. Skin and muscle peeled neatly away from the collarbone, moving down into the pectoral, leaving the dusky skinned thing's hands to finally release his shield as it hit the ground. In a final blow Xuphim dropped down to a knee, utilizing a modified version of the 'Shield Edging' attack he had learned back in training.. The bottom, tapered edge of his heater crashed into the side of the Yukman's face, splintering the cheekbone a busting off teeth from the jaw. Xuphim knew well enough he could be fighting two at once in just a moment, as a second Yukman seemed to look to pound downward upon the kneeling Syliran. Putting the face of his shield against the creature's body, Xuphim suddenly rose up and dipped his shield so the bottom fanned outward, hefting the creature up and leaving it head over heels before striking the ground behind him. "These bastards are heavier than they look!" he called out, just dispensing some bit of knowledge that others could have already discovered for themselves.

[Mist]

The arrow pierced into the beasts chest, making it stumble from the blow. It fell behind the others, but getting back to its feet, it let out a cough that misted blood, and then ran on, letting out a oddly strangled yuk sound, that had a whistle to it. Perhaps the healer wold know what that meant, or what he had hit inside of the beast. But regardless, it still meant another 3 were charging on, with a fourth slowed down but still coming. A second one was clipped by a crossbow bolt, and stumbled, but then pushed on more or less unfazed, catching up with the others as blood oozed from its wound. As the first yukman collided with Xalet, it grabbed at his shield, only to be felled, and smashed by the very shield he tried to yank away. Followed by a hack, and a smash to the face by the shield, that yukman was dead, though it was hard to say by which attack. The slash descending into its chest was deep, deep enough that if the blow had been across its neck, instead of diagonally into its shoulder, he would have decapitated it. Perhaps he would adjust his aim for the next one, to deal a more swift death. But there was little time to consider that, as there were still two yukmen left close, one reaching the Akalakan fighter, the other reaching the human healer. The third remaining wounded yukman that was not dead was still approaching, hovering between the two, not yet having decided which of them to attack. Off in the distance, another group of more yukman were approaching them, coming in to attack. Though it was hard to say how many would reach them, as one was caught by three arrows at once and fell dead. However many, they needed to deal with these ones, before the new ones arrived. Off in the distance, the cavalry had finished wheeling, and was making a charge, running right into the flank of the horde of yukmen. Septimus and her rider were in the second row of the cavalry, some of the other riders pushing past to get ahead, racing with a battle cry. The archers in the cavalry discharged their arrows, letting fly a flurry. As the yukmen turned to see the new threat, the cavalry cleaved into the horde, felling dozens, killed by trampling horse feet, the push of bodies, or the weapons of those riding the horses. As Septimus' rider made it to the front to meet some yukmen, he hefted his spear, using its length to its full to kill his foes before they got close to his steed. He pierced one right through the head, killing it instantly, and then yanked it back out to stab another yukmen,m and another. But know monsters were coming in from all sides, one came running right at them from behind, and the rider had not seen it.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

For the first time, and likely the only time Serrif was glad to have one of these massive warriors at his side. He couldn’t say much for the way they handled women, Nakivaks…but when they fought he was glad to be on this side of the blade…this time. He knew they were fearless warriors, but never had he seen them in battle until now. It was something to aspire to. The Sanctuary could use some of that battle prowess. Maybe enough sessions with Kavala’s older brother would teach him a thing or two.

His hit was good but it only stumbled the Yukman. It seemed unlike most simple people these animals would not go down simply. He knew by the sound that he hit the animal’s lungs. Or that he likely had…if the lungs were in the same place as they were on a person. He could study the anatomy of these beasts later; right now he was more worried about this oncoming onslaught.

He was just off Xuphim’s left side when the man seemingly dealt with one of the Yukman rather quickly. Again prowess in battle was something to be marveled. But he had his own issues here. Mainly the Yukman who decided that he was the best target here. And out of the two of them…well Serrif agreed he did appear to be the weaker one. Know your hard points the words of his Konti instructor. He had toothed gauntlets those were his strongpoint.

The beast came right for him, it didn’t seem to be skilled at all. Rather flailed around and came right for him like a rabid animal. It was a fight for his life because he wasn’t about to owe this Akalak man anything. Standing placing his left foot forward he readied himself for the beast…he had no qualms with killing these creatures. Not when they threatened this city.

Closer….closer…the beast closed and then flailed some as if to try and grab at his throat. Serrif answered by sweeping his left unarmed hand upwards catching both of the animal’s arms forcing them upward; exposing his underside. Squatting down some to get a lower angle he simply thrust forward his right hand that held the cold steel gladius. Thrusting with all his might the blade bit hard and much like Ildin taught him with his dagger it would run under the beasts ribs and trash its internal organs.

But the animals forward momentum would drive most of this punch and drive the weapon all the way to the hilt. However; one oversight was that the Yukman weighed a good amount and then suddenly went limp. Its forward momentum catching Serrif off guard and causing him to stumble backwards some. He fought for control and dumped the Yukman. He eventually staggered and caught himself but it was indeed a blunder of sorts. Mostly because he was weighed down with so much equipment. He was here after all as a frontline healer and a fighter.

Without missing a beat he picked up his bow and there debating who to attack the remaining Yukman was still trying to make up his mind. Serrif pulled up an arrow to make his move. He would help make up the beasts mind for it. If Xuphim didn’t act quickly Serrif would likely have another kill under his belt.