On Burning Edge
Sixth Day of Elnu-Hamba (Elnu Descendent), 1349 A. L. (After Landfall)
"Go!" you call, already shifting in the saddle, as you had learned since you were a boy. So Silver leaps, a move no horse foaled would have done, bearing his belly to the points of many blades, into peril... into pain. You feel the sickening thump of a blade cutting from below and his pained whinny echoes in your mind. No horse foaled save one who is no beast to bear one into battle, but a friend...
Silver takes 9 Damage
Durendal flashes like a burning brand in the air, but against the armor of the foe its flame fails and the foe reaches out swift as a darting serpent to grasp it, mayhap to break it as he had done your armor, but at the last his wound betrays him, he stumbles, flesh and blood after all for all his fearsome mien. Though smashing hooves do little against the dead and agony pierces your thigh, one of a dozen blades, you do not loose you seat even as fire blooms between here and the gate.
You take 11 Damage
At least the bastard isn't getting away, you think, seeking the warriors not of Lirman but of the villages of Korman now draw near, spear and shield in hand, drawn to the flame, the sight of light even amidst the darkness that Unke carries with him. Alas it seems that the dark warrior is not yet done, for from his cloak, near to his chest, he pulls out a rune carved stone and casts it at the feet of his host nd where it touches the ground the flames die to black ash.
Foul words taint the air, the very substance of the world seems to twitch and twist... as the foe begins to move with uncanny grace. Swifter than a horse they are, surely swifter than one wounded no matter how gallant. Now is your chance to cut the Redman down or see him flee into the city... into the twisting halls of the palace.
There is no whisper now, no other purpose, save your own as Durendal comes slashing in an overhead arc the very speed with which he had been blessed shifting the neck right where you wanted it.
His neck is no harder to hew than any other's... Silence thick and unnatural falls, then all the dead wail, striking their hands against their own heads and fall upon their faces, corpses again.
"Look there, the wall," you hear Esha's voice in your mind even as Inge's magic starts knitting your flesh back together and turn your eyes from the battle just in time to see a dark shape rush among the Anwa warriors whose blades cannot seem to touch it, then scuttle up the wall like some kindred of grotesque spider, far out or reach.
What do you do?
[] Try to force a path through the gate
[] Take advantage of the lull in the fighting and Unke's fall to demand a parley with whoever is in charge of the city
[] Write in
OOC: Welp, old Unke did not go down easy, but when a crit build crits them's the breaks. I hope you guys enjoyed this.