Fable - Ask Beaten and Bloody

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Shit.

Olvir opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a single word another Orc swept up to him. He held a massive falcatta, the weight of the sword causing it to drag on the ground. His opponent heaved, sweeping the blade towards the Noble. Sparks flew as Ollie managed to catch the blade and bat it aside, though the massive momentum sent him reeling back.

A guttural laugh escaped the Orc's throat as he took a step forward and brought his sword with him. Ollie's arms quivered as he batted away slash after slash, bright blue sparks flickering from his sword as it was all he could do to keep himself alive.

He darted back as his companions called for a retreat, but the Orc did not relent.

The creatures steps carried it in pursuit, massive blade swinging up, and then slamming down towards Ollie's head when suddenly the ethereal chains Kristen sent out wrapped themselves around the orcs legs. For just a brief moment the creature hesitated, startled.

Ollie took the opportunity, slicing his blade through the greenskin's flesh and severing his arm in one swift stroke.

A guttural cry of pain escaped his opponents mouth, but Ollie didn't care. His foot kicked out, sending the man tumbling back as he began to retreat. Rushing with his two companions. "I'll get Maisie!"

He called out as they fled.

"You two help the Guard hold the Room." Ollie couldn't keep the panic from his voice. "You have to hold."

The noble said, desperation teeming through his tone.
 
Obviously the news that Kristen wasn't able to collapse the tunnel was less than heartening. Thankfully though they had a backup plan, and he wasn't sure she was able to do it in the first place anyways. They'd just have to make a retreat and retrieve the help of Maisie in order to close the tunnel off. As long as they could get it collapsed for blocked off they'd have one less major issue to deal with in this battle, they just needed to hope that she got here before the orc reinforcements or that they could hold out long enough for her to arrive. Their backs were against the wall and they were on an unfortunate time table.

Reynard was slightly worried about the prospect of fighting off the scouting party while performing a retreat but thankfully a bit of magic work from Kristen made the effort much simpler. Chains came up from the ground, gripping the ankles and legs of the enemy and slowing them down. It made a huge different that much was for sure.

Reynard severed the throat of a capture orc before beginning his retreat behind his companions, deciding to hold the back of their party, allowing them to make their retreat safely. Ollie was going to go retrieve Maisie. As much as it hurt to lose one of their party members they needed someone to go get her and Ollie was probably the best option. Reynard didn't know much about Ollie other than the fact that he was a noble so his guess was the Olvir was less experienced in war and battle than he was. They certainly couldn't afford to spare Kristen's magic abilities if they were going to hold out long enough for reinforcements of their own.

Reynard could tell that Olvir was panicking, he'd do his best to reassure him. "We will, there is no other option but to hold out. Trust me my friend, I've held plenty of lines before. I'll sooner than die than let the orcs past." he said, before realizing that may not have been the best phrasing. "And I won't be dying today, I haven't had the chance to fall in love with a beautiful princess yet!" he said jokingly, knowing full well he'd never live a fairy tale like that.
 
The unmistakable sounds of hurried footfalls preceded the emergence of Olvir, Reynard, and Kristen into the lights of the Well Room. The Guardsmen there were already made tense by the noise, standing ready with shields up and swords drawn. A collective sigh of relief passed among them when they saw the forms of three human beings coming.

This relief would not last for long as they gleaned the situation from the talk between the three.

The vote of confidence from Reynard redoubled Kristen's resolve. The sober truth behind the words was heartening all the more, in its own way. There would be no sanctuary for them in the Keep should they fail here. And so it was demanded of them by the weight of dire circumstance to hold, to hold, for sake of all the gods, hold. No difference would there be if they were to die here in the effort or to retreat into the Keep, for if the orcs penetrated within then all was lost.

"Godspeed!" Kristen yelled to Olvir and wheeled around to face back from whence they all came, her own sword now lifted and ready.

For all the peril of their present plight, Kristen couldn't help a small laugh at Reynard's levity. "Perhaps I shall use my connections to enter you into correspondence with one, once Vel Hetren is liberated!" she replied in kind, for she knew no princesses personally.

They waited.

Waited.

Waited to receive the enemy.

That dark abyss of the corridor before them seemed to taunt them with its endlessness, with its raw, brimming potential. From there could spring orcs innumerable or some fresh horror to blight their eyes.

And at last came a sound. An approach. Footsteps, sure and steady. Some number of them.

But from the darkness came a lone orc. Old, hunched over with a slight slouch, but who even in his elderly age did not lack for mass and muscle. A braided gray beard hung from his wizened face, he carried a gnarled staff, and his red eyes were piercing in an unnatural manner; this orc had magic about him, that much Kristen could sense.

The Orcish Sorcerer smiled, his tusks lifting slightly in the action. He addressed them one and all, his voice raspy but firm, his grasp of Common keen. "Who speaks for you? Come. Step forward."

The Sorcerer held out his arms gracefully and even bowed. "Let us talk."

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
Ollie nodded to his friends, and then he ran as fast as he could.

He knew that time was of the essence, and every moment he wasted standing around or not rushing was another moment that the Orcs could break through the defensive lines. He burst out from the lower halls of the Keep, head immediately whirling as he caught a guardsmen by the shoulder.

"OI!" The man called out, but Ollie ignored him as he rushed through the Keep. He jumped over several crates, darting to the left and right to dodge one person or another.

He felt the stitches on his thigh pull open, blood beginning to slowly drip down his leg as he sprinted through the castle. "MAISIE!"

Ollie shouted through the halls, his calls forcing heads to come up. Most looking at him with an inquisitive look until he spotted one man simply stare in confusion. The noble half stopped, almost hurtling into the man.

"I need the Dreadlord." He said, panting. "Where is she?!"

Bewildered, the Guardsmen, a Lieutenant ordered almost instantly. "Outside, east wall. She's rei-"

Before he even finished speaking Ollie rushed out. Running as fast as he could even as the pain began to lance in his side. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword as tight as possible, holding it firmly in its sheath so it didn't go flying as he whirled around corners.

As he ran, fingers tight on his sword, the wound on his thigh slowly began to heal. Pain slowly fading, though Ollie hardly seemed to notice.

The young noble came crashing out one of the narrow doors of the Keep, spotting a young woman dressed in a dark black coat. "Maisie!"

Her head snapped towards Ollie, almost instantly caught at attention.
 
Reynard could only laugh in response to Kristen's own joke, though truly he wasn't 100% sure if she was joking. Nobles had more connections than he did after all but that hardly mattered. The levity helped to lift his mood in the middle of this battle which was much needed as they waited for the oncoming forces of the orcs. Their reinforcements were on the way and no doubt it wasn't going to be easy to keep them at bay.

They waited for what felt like an eternity. Reynard's heart beat steady but it beat strong against his chest. He could only hope their efforts would be enough to keep the enemy away because behind them lay a fortress full of people. Reynard wouldn't let a single one past, even if it meant laying down his life.

Eventually noise sounded out from deeper in the corridor. It sounded like many footsteps, but what came out of the dark was a singular orc, and quite an intriguing one at that. Old and stooped over, gray haired but no less strong and certainly far more wise than one might expect form an Orc. Of course Reynard knew better than most, he'd known quite a few Orcs and knew in many ways they were no different than humans were.

As the Orc spoke, Reynard couldn't help the small twitch of a smile. The Sorcerer Orc seemed like he wanted to talk instead of fight, at least for the moment. It was very likely presumptuous of him to be the one to step forward and address the Orc. He wasn't a local to the fortress nor was he a noble or a person of great importance. Technically speaking he was probably the least qualified to speak to the Orc, but Reynard had a confidence that he may be the best person for it.

He wasn't going to overstep his bounds however, he looked to Kristen for her thoughts. "Who should do the honors?" he asked simply. Wondering what she thought would be the smartest course of action. There was a chance, however little that this was their chance to make peace before the battle got well and truly out of hand. Perhaps that was blind hope speaking but Reynard was well known for his hopeful nature.
 
The Sorcerer was a surprise, and his words even more so. Kristen eyed him warily, knowing from the sound of it that a good many orcs were just beyond him, just deep enough in the darkness so as to be unseen, perhaps waiting on the Sorcerer's very signal to attack. Yet parley was offered.

She returned Reynard's glance, and then looked over her shoulder toward the way up to the ground level of the keep, as if hoping to see Olvir and Maisie come bolting down those steps right in the nick of time. But there was no such luck.

While there was plenty of men here, men of more years than her, men more intimidating than her like Trik, nevertheless she was the Dreadlord (Initiate, albeit in truth, but that like the Governor implied ought not to be said). There was no other choice, yet she wasn't so confident in stepping forward alone.

She again looked to Reynard. Said, "Together. You and I."

Back to the Sorcerer, who stood there smiling and patiently waiting. Kristen stepped forward then, a good deal of space still between herself and the orc in the corridor.

"What is it that you want?"

The orcish Sorcerer made a sweeping gesture with his open palm, and he spoke in a way that was almost warm and friendly, "This city...is doomed."

Kristen drew in a breath through her nose. "I believe you shall find little room for such confidence when first you try to take this Keep."

"It is but a matter of time, young human."

"My faith is in the Guardian of Time Himself, the Holy Sentinel, Aionus, and He shall see that we have time enough for reinforcements from the Army of the North to arrive. Time is your enemy, not ours."

Kristen didn't know if she was doing well or not. She thought she was. She hoped she was. All she knew was the blood pounding in her ears, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, her limbs turning acidic with nervousness.

The Sorcerer again made that inviting gesture with his open palm. "I am not without kindness...without mercy. I have come to offer you all, everyone in this room, a way out. If you would but lay down your arms and allow us passage into the Keep through here, you in turn will be granted safe passage from the Keep. My fellow orcs will heed my word—they dare not cross me. Accept my offer, and you will live. Refuse it, and you will be killed: either here and now when we force our way past you, or if that god of yours grants you a reprieve, then some time later. But know that this Keep, this city, will fall."

The orc grinned.

"Choose wisely."

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
A very large boulder thumped into the ground as Maisie released her hold upon it. The anger on her face clearly showing that she did not want to be interrupted in that moment. Olvir, for his part, didn't much care. He ran up to the Dreadlord, not noticing that the limp in his leg was now entirely gone.

"Who the fuck-" Before she could get a word in edgewise, Olvir began to unload.

"I need you to come with me, immediately." In the command structure of this keep, Ollie was no one. His name didn't matter, he had no commission in the Guard, and as far as the Dreadlords were concerned he had less authority than a mouse. At least on paper, but none of that mattered in the moment. "The Orcs are attacking from below the keep, there's a tunnel."

Ollie kept speaking, as quickly and as informatively as possible. Trying to get as many details as he possibly could while also ensuring that the Dreadlord actually heard him. "We're holding the line but we need someone to collapse the Tunnel before any of them get through."

The Dreadlord blinked, as if trying to parse everything that Ollie had said.

Urgency drilled through the young noble, and he insisted. "Now!"

The word was barked as an order, and almost as if accessing some primal sense deep within the Dreadlord her head jerked in a nod. Within seconds the two Anirians were rushing back towards the Keep and into the long winding hall.

Ollie more than a little surprised the Dreadlord hadn't skinned him alive.
 
Reynard nodded in reply to Kristen, fine with working together to hopefully establish some manner of truce or peace. Reynard had the ability and Kristen had the authority. He only hoped to avoid more bloodshed and this conversation would say all that he needed to know to decide if that would be possible.

After a few moments of listening to Kristen and the Orc sorcerer speak Reynard's hopes weren't exactly reinforced. Kristen was keen not back down even an inch, and the shaman made it clear enough that the only goal that the orcs had was to take the keep. Reynard wasn't sure if he could convince them otherwise but he had to try. Reynard took in a small breath and steadied himself before stepping forward and locking eye contact with the sorcerer.


Despite the situation and the stakes at hand, Reynard still smiled. It was perhaps his greatest gift, to keep himself positive even in the most dire of situations. Perhaps he had no chance of peace or diplomacy here, but he'd be remiss not to even try.

"Greetings Friend." He greeted the sorcerer in Orcish. He wasn't exactly fluent but he knew enough from his travels to be polite. He switched back to English as he continue to speak. "I noticed there were no introductions made between you and for a proper conversation to take place I firmly believe introductions are necessary." Reynard placed his hand on his chest as he introduced himself. "My name is Reynard De Eramant." he motioned to Kirsten now and took the liberty of introducing her. "And this is my companion Kristen Pirian. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" He needed to steer the tone of the conversation away from hostilities and thanked the gods that this sort of thing was one of his better talents.
 
The Sorcerer grinned with that assured air and that cordial gleam. "Ahhh...Reynard. Kristen. It is very nice to meet you. I am Ruzzak of the Bonebreaker tribe." He spread his arms again. "Are we not civil here? Am I not far removed from the picture of a savage that this battle has surely cemented in your minds?"

Kristen stood with a character of stiff apprehension. The Sorcerer Ruzzak's offer was one of sickly temptation to those so pressed as they who occupied this Keep, like fetid water to a man dying in the desert. Desperation was the crucial ingredient in the abandonment of stalwart resolve and strength of character; Kristen feared looking back over her shoulder, back toward those Guardsmen who held the Well Room, feared seeing perhaps a glimmer in the eyes of one or two or gods forbid more of them, a glimmer of that sickly temptation sinking into them; she would rather not see it or know it at all, that all too human shame that came with the deeds inspired by the sheer will to live by any means.

Any means, even the betrayal of all one's comrades for one's own sake. Kristen did not want to die here, no, but there were things which to her were far worse than such a death.

"I have never been greatly fond of orcs," she said, as neutrally as she could, in response to Ruzzak's question.

Ruzzak smiled broadly. "Are you yourselves not a people of war? You are Anirians, are you not?"

"Proudly so."

"Then, young one, are we not cut from the cloth? We of orcish blood, and you of Anirian blood? Is this present civility not an aberration to our kindred natures? That we are capable of it, of civility and dialogue and all such things, is clear, but in our normal course it is also clear, perhaps far more clear, that we resolve conflict in the most ancient and respected of ways. The primeval way. We are the great practitioners of our trade, and this, young one, I believe is the very source of that pride you feel so strongly in your veins."

Ruzzak shifted his gaze to Reynard.

"And what do you feel in your veins?"

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
"What the fuck is going on?!" Maisie hissed in his ear as the two of them rushed through the winding corridors of the fortress.

The two of them rushed as fast as they could, but in the already overcrowded keep the task was far more difficult than one would hope. Crates of supplies lay stacked everywhere, the injured were sprawled on every corner, and huddling civilians tried to press themselves into whatever empty corner was available.

Though Ollie had managed to sprint before, now he was finding himself needing to push through the crowd.

"There's tunnels, underneath the Keep." Ollie explained as he practically shoved a civilian to the side. Offering only a terse apology as the two of them continued to press forward. "The Orcs were coming through them, we cut down part of the scouting party bu-"

Before he could finish Maisie swore. "Shit. Alright."

The Dreadlord, thankfully, did not need much more explanation than that. Something that Ollie found himself more than a little thankful for. The two quickly cut through the rest of the crowd, reaching the stairway to the undercroft and pacing down the steps.

Reaching the well room just as the shaman asked his question.
 
Reynard didn’t have the chance to speak again before Kristen rejoined the conversation, making her lack of love for orcs well known. Most humans felt the same way as she did of course, especially within the walls of the fortress. Any who had been unlucky enough to be between orcs and any other fighting force knew the brutality they were capable of. While Reynard understood the point of view, it wasn’t one he shared. That of course made him the exception to what otherwise seemed to be a generally accepted rule. Humans and Orcs simply did not mix well together.

Reynard listened as the sorcerer spoke, comparing his own people to that of Kristen's. Comparing their warring and violent nature and claiming they weren’t so different as she or any other human would like to believe. Reynard found himself surprised at his agreement with the general statement, though not necessarily with the specifics of what he was saying. Humans and Orcs shared many similarities with one another and he knew that from experience. Humans were capable of just as much savagery as Orcs and Orcs were capable of just as much love as humans, at least from what he’d experienced. Orcs weren’t the outwardly affectionate type either so that did little to assuage the popular assumptions that had taken root in minds.

A simple question was posed to Reynard by the Sorcerer, what did he feel in his veins? Quite a few things most days but now there was one thing that took center stage. Reynard took a step forward before speaking. He smiled as kindly as he could manage, which would likely be far more than expected given the situation at hand. “A deep desire for peace and kindness is what I feel in my veins. Though I’m not so naive to think complete peace could be achieved here, I find myself hoping for it all the same. As opposed to my companion here.” he said motioning to Kristen. “I have no apprehension in dealing with Orcs. I’ve met many and fought alongside them, as well as against others.” Reynard let out a small sigh, letting his disappointment in all the violence show in his face.

“I’m afraid I can not in good faith abandon my position here in order to let you proceed without trouble. As much as I desire peace, I need even more to protect the lives of all those innocents behind me.” Reynard jammed a thumb over his shoulder to illustrate his point. “This keep is full of far more than just warriors and soldiers. I ask this only because my heart is perhaps too big for my brain. If there is a chance for peace between us, true peace and not surrender, then please let it be known. I’d rather avoid a fight and save lives, but I will not hesitate to lay down my life if it becomes needed. Is it needed?” he asked, hoping perhaps in vain for some manner of peaceful ending to this conflict.
 
Ruzzak listened to all Reynard had to say with delight. "It is not needed." And with a slow, inviting (perhaps beckoning) extension of a hand he gestured toward Reynard, "Peace...for you," toward Kristen, "and you," toward Olvir and Maisie behind everyone at the base of the stairs, "and you," and with a sweep of his hand to Trik and the lot of Guardsmen, "all of you..."

Then he smiled genially, the tusks jutting from his lower lip rising, "...if you would but accept my offer. The lives you save will be your own. Else..."

He gave a special look to Kristen, one of near kinship, "...we will serve our proud blood, will we not?"

Kristen's heart thudded painfully in her chest, and there was within no absence of fear. Her faith was strained, spirit worn, but there was one thing of which she could be sure. With the emboldening presence of Olvir and the newly arrived Maisie, she took the liberty of speaking for everyone, "You will find none so spineless as to acquiesce to your offer. If it is the fall of Vel Hetren you seek, then all whom you see before you shall guard against it. Come, seek victory, and we will show you and your fellows what is in your veins by letting it stain these floors."

The bold words were unbeknownst to Kristen undercut by a dangerous truth. At least one of the Guardsmen, ostensibly ready to fight like his fellows, harbored thoughts of taking Ruzzak's offer, doing so however he could, even if he needed to stab his comrades in the back.

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
It did not take a genius to understand the context of the conversation that lay before them. As he and Maisie came up behind the others he heard the Orcs voice thundering through the cavern. The dangerous venom within concealed behind the honeyed offer.

Olvir felt his mouth go dry, eyes flickering between those Guardsmen which stood around them.

As Kristen gave her answer, he saw the resolve grow in the soldiers around them. Steel growing in their spine, and knuckles becoming white upon the hilts of their swords. All but one, snaked away within the back, his thoughts churning. Not of betrayal, not of the cost to all the others, but of the life he had yet to live.

The daughter he had left at home, the wife whom was taking care of her. Those he so desperately wanted to make it home to.

Ollie could not have known the man's thoughts, but he might not have blamed him had he voiced them then and there. "Maisie."

The Nobleman said, and without a second of hesitation the Dreadlord moved forward.

"Step back." Maisie hissed to Reynard and Kristen. Her hands jutting forward and magic began to grip her form. Within seconds a powerful crack rang out, the tunnel shaking violently as rock and stalagmites began to tumble down. The ceiling splitting and the walls suddenly crashing together as the Dreadlord formed a massive barrier of rock and stone.

A wave of dust and debris exploding outward into both sides of the tunnel as it was sealed.
 
Reynard was almost starting to believe peace could be made between the humans and the orcs here but his hopes were quickly dashed as Ruzzak continued to speak. He had no intent of backing down and retreating and once again made the offer for the present group of humans to surrender and maintain their lives instead. It seemed they were at an impasse and Reynard couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped his lips once he realized this was the case.

Reynard shook his head before locking defiant eyes with Ruzzak, but eyes that still carried an element of weariness at the fact that peace was all too difficult to acquire. “I’m afraid I can not in good faith make such a decision. There are people relying on me and my comrades. Innocents. Women, children and elderly all looking to simply live their lives. I fight for them and all others who may need protection, for that is the duty I've decided to undertake. What kind of person would I be to give up and leave them to die? I’d be an individual enslaved to their base instincts, a slave to their fear. You’ll find I am afraid. Not for me but for everyone I’ve promised to help. It’s a shame it must come to bloodshed, but this is not a result I chose.” he said solemnly as he unsheathed his sword and leveled it at Ruzzak. “We will fight and I will strike you down, not because I hate you or your people, but because I love the innocents that populate this place.”

Thankfully Reynard didn’t have a chance to fight before Ollie arrived with the magical backup they desperately needed. Kristen and Reynard had succeeded in their task of occupying their Orc’s while they waited for reinforcements. For now bloodshed had been avoided. Reynard sheathed his sword and turned to Ollie smiling. “Good job my friend.” turning to Maisie the smile kept its place. “And thank you ma’am for your assistance.” he said with a nod of his head. “I’m afraid the orcs attacking us are not in the kind of mood for peace, as much as I’d rather that be the case."
 
Kristen breathed a sigh of relief as Maisie's magic collapsed the tunnel. In truth, perhaps they never should have left this to chance in the first place, instead assuming the worst and bringing Maisie's magic to the fore straightway. But the threat was now ended, and the three of them—Olvir, Reynard, and herself—were all well, so in this could she be grateful.

Kristen looked to Olvir and Maisie as well, "It is fortunate that the orcs decided to parley instead of—"

Woeful timing.

The tunnel, apparently having been called to collapse, shook again. The jagged rocks, the piles of dirt, they all slid off the bluish sheen of a large arcane shield. At the shield's center was Ruzzak, arms held up and palms facing the ceiling, as if he by physical strength and gesture alone were holding up the entirety of the earth above him.

He was smiling with that geniality, but his face all around his lips suggested a triumphant glee for the battle that was to come. Slowly, with mock disappointment but truly with a gravelly battle-lust, he said, "I gave you your chance."

The war cries rang out in unison behind Ruzzak, and then the orcish warriors surged forward.

"Hold!" Kristen shouted, bringing her sword up to the ready.

They needed to get at Ruzzak some way to interrupt his channeling of the shield and bring about the final collapse of the tunnel; getting at him physically was a task of immense, if not insurmountable, difficulty; magic could be used, but Ruzzak was a capable sorcerer, and a duel of the arcane might well take the efforts of both Kristen and Maisie and leave both occupied and vulnerable.

The immediate problem, of course, was the tide of orcish warriors, berserkers, juggernauts rushing into the Well Room.

Kristen summoned a quick trio of Impalers at the front of the orcish tide, killing two warriors and scraping the armor of the third. But the orcs with their great axes cleaved their way through the conjurations, destroying them with ease, their charge barely even hindered by the Impalers or the two fresh bodies of their kin.

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
"FUCK!" The curse seemed more than appropriate in that moment, Ollie finding no other deselection of his tongue that might properly express how he felt the moment he saw the collapse stopped.

The sword rung from his scabbard in an instant.

Besides him the Dreadlord struggled, her face an implacable mask of a woman fighting a titan. All of her magics poured into the mountain pressing down upon the Orcs shield. Ollie offered her but a simple nod, knowing any words would be lost in the strain.

His head turned back towards the Guardsmen behind him. "Go!"

He shouted.

"GO! We have to break them!" Ollie called. "For your brothers, your sisters, your families, your fellow Guardsmen!"

Olvir shouted. "It doesn't matter if we die, if doesn't matter if their blades rip our guts, it doesn't matter if we get buried beneath this castle."

His words echoed as the orcs charged.

"Not if we save them!" Ollie called, his blade spinning as his boot struck against the earth. "Not if we drive them back!"

He shouted, charging straight into the oncoming tide of orcs.
 
Reynard was glad they managed to stop the Orcs before they had the chance to cause any real damage here in the well room. Everyone was alright and they didn’t need to worry anymore, now they could focus on the walls the fortr-

It was unfortunate then that his train of thought was interrupted by an unwelcome sight. The party of Orcs were unharmed and it seemed that was due to the skill of the Orc sorcerer Ruzzak. It didn’t take long for the battle to erupt between the opposing faction. Orcs versus humans, truly a tale as old as time.

Reynard took less than a moment to unsheathe his sword and take his place next to Kristen. The biggest target was undoubtedly Ruzzak himself. Reynard theorized that if they were able to dispatch him, the rest of the Orcs would either fall soon after or retreat. Though the way back where they came from was hardly as viable as it had once been.

Reynard gave Kristen a quick look and smiled, doing his utmost to show himself confident in their victory and in turn give her the same confidence. If he was ever good at anything, it was raising the spirits of others. “It seems to me the Orcs are hell bent on a fight and we shall be kind enough to oblige them. Focus on Ruzzak and worry less about the other Orcs, I’ll make sure they don’t get close enough to harm you.” he said with a reassuring smile. If there was a chance at taking out the sorcerer, then Kristen and Maisie were the group's best bet and he would do all he could to ensure she could focus her efforts properly.

In order to punctuate his point Reynard twisted around and slammed the hilt of his sword against the skull of an orc stunning it, before turning his sword around in his hands and sending the blade through it's throat killing it quickly. He once again held his blade out in front of him, just beside Kristen with his eyes darting back and forth between potential attackers, ready to defend Kristen at a moments notice.
 
As the battle began, Kristen looked to Reynard as he spoke to her. She nodded quickly, firmly. Spoke just as fast and just as resolutely. "Right! I trust in the strength of your sword-arm."

No later had she spoken that proof of the strength so mentioned was available to be witnessed, Reynard pummeling and skewering an orcish warrior that had slipped past Olvir and the front line of Guardsmen.

Kristen turned her attention beyond the fury of the fight before her and to Ruzzak. The sorcerer stood comfortably inside that large arcane shield of his, easily holding up the weight of the earth and the stones from collapsing the tunnel, smiling all the while. Kristen huffed out some stress, shook her hands at the wrists, and then began to concentrate and channel. College Magic was a discipline that entailed specificity and precision, and she wasn't so well-practiced even for an Initiate, let alone a College student her age. But her Conjurations and her Curses would likely be countered by Ruzzak in some manner, so using College Magic to disrupt his shield was the safest wager.

The effort, however, would not only wear her out mentally, but crucially, magically as well. But it had to be done, else the Keep would fall.

Kristen tried to let her arms and hands move of their own accord, tracing arcane symbols and ritual motion from muscle memory. She kept her gaze on Ruzzak for a short while, but soon had to close her eyes to deepen her concentration.

It was then that the betrayers made their move.

Not one, but two Guardsmen had been seduced by Ruzzak's offer. Their names were Jonas Carlyle and Marius Gambon, and though either man had his own reasons, what remained, in their eyes, between life and death was the betrayal of their comrades into Ruzzak's hands. Fear had overcome them, and in fear they acted; each independently, though a malicious god would have lauded their inadvertent tandem treachery, for it almost seemed a plan for which said god might take fiendish credit.

Marius Gambon drew his sword, but instead of joining with his fellow Guardsmen and Olvir at the front, turned and swung with the hopes of decapitating Maisie while she busied herself with her arcane efforts.

Jonas Carlyle drew a dagger, and from behind he grabbed Kristen's ponytail, yanking her head harshly back and exposing her neck and preparing to rake the blade clean across her throat.

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
It was like no fighting that Ollie had ever been involved in.

He’d read about it of course, the ‘crush’ as it was called in war. When two opposing armies met on the field of battle and the space between men came so tight that it was near impossible to breath.

Before, in the city above, the fighting had been fierce and without mercy. The Orcs had come, but always in pairs of two or threes. Ollie hadn’t been up on the wall, he hadn’t fought as a true soldier. Not before now.

Suddenly finding himself in the midst of the chaos Ollie knew that he should have felt the oppressive closeness of his friends, of his foes. He knew that discomfort should have prevailed within him. Knew that fear should have gripped his heart. The danger was palpable within the air. Men were dying, screaming, and yet all the young Noble felt was exhilaration.

A thrill unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Ollie threw himself into the melee, his sword biting into the orcs and carving a swath through the opposing foes. He moved with careful and practiced motions, remembering everything he’d been taught in Dornoch, everything he’d learned from Amell.

He cut forward through the din of greenskins, shouting an unintelligible cry of war. His head turning back as he called. ”Come on! We go-”

The words suddenly died on his throat as he saw two of the Guardsmen turn at the same time.

One of them grasped at his sword, flicking the blade free of it’s scabbard and in one smooth motion beheading Maisie. The act so swift, so fast, that Olvir hardly had time to process what he’d just soon. Confusion flickering over his features, eyes darting in a panic across his other allies, catching, just in time as Jonas reached towards the darling daughters.

”KRISTEN!” Ollie shouted in warning, but found himself incapable of doing a single thing as one of the greenskins went barrelling into him.
 
The feeling of battle was one that Reynard was incredibly familiar with. When he had first started his career as a mercenary it was an invigorating rush. A confusing mess of adrenaline and energy that propelled him forward. Reynard had practiced the art of focusing all the wild energy and adrenaline and had become a focused machine in the heat of battle. He was young but Reynard still fought like a practiced veteran.

He had one goal, one that he set his mind on with a steely and unshakeable focus and that was to protect Kristen from harm. Yes their opponents were orcs but his brain wasn’t focused on protecting Kristen from orcs, it was protecting her from any harm at all. Reynard was no fool, he was no naive greenhorn willing to put complete faith in even complete strangers. He had seen far too many men fall victim to their greed and avarice to not be prepared for the worst. Though he hoped no individual present would be foolish enough to accept Ruzzak’s deal, Reynard knew the possibility was ever present.

Reynard also made a promise to Kristen, an assurance that she was safe under his care and could focus on her singular job of taking down the Orc sorcerer. This in addition to Reynard being ready to lash out at anything that dared to get too close meant the Reynard was ready to intercept one of the two traitors that had decided their lives were more important than anyone else’s.

Blood pumping in his ears Reynard turned to face the man grabbing Kristen’s pony tail and in one fluid motion sent his sword out forward with one hand and grabbed the man's hand before he could slit her throat. Reynard was attempting to send the entirety of his blade through the man's face and out the back of his skull, hoping to at least end the man's life swiftly. This was always the worst part of war, the snuffing out of another person's life. He hated it more often than he didn’t but the lives of those in the fortress as well as those close by were enough to propel him forward. There were too many people to save to worry about one treacherous individual, the least he could do was grant the man a quick end, should his attack land anyways.
 
Kristen felt the steel of Jonas's dagger on her throat—

Then Reynard's sword found bloody home in Jonas's skull, and the dagger before it could deliver its deadly slice fell away and clattered to the Well Room floor. Jonas fell back, dead. Kristen, shocked and confused as to what just happened, nevertheless clutched at her throat, eyes wide and full of alarm. Within mere seconds she came to realize Jonas's betrayal, and the alarm in her eyes changed to amazed gratitude for Reynard and his swift action.

But there was another betrayer in their midst.

Kristen, concerned for Maisie's safety, whirled around to check on her. Only to see what happened.

"No!"

Marius made a motion toward her and Reynard, but Kristen, her dismay flaring quickly into ire, shaped and spoke a Curse that she had used before on another mission. Her porcelain hand flung out, baleful energies swirling about it, she said the words, "Compelled are you to kneel."

Marius, already of a mindset of figuratively kneeling to Ruzzak and his offer, was powerless to resist the Curse. His legs buckled, the magic overcame him, and down he dropped to his knees on the floor, his armor the only thing stopping his kneecaps from breaking from the force of it.

Kristen approached him and with uncharacteristic brutality smacked the sword out of his hand with her own when he meagerly tried to defend himself. A furious backhand, couched in the hard steel of her gauntlet, she delivered to his jaw, sending his upper body reeling while his knees stayed effectively adhered to the ground. Marius wasn't knocked out cold, but with blood and broken teeth pouring from his mouth all the fight had been sapped from him in an instant. He was a disoriented mess.

Kristen turned to face Reynard. Said forcefully, "We are taking him alive."

She knew she had to get back to disabling Ruzzak's shield, and she would. But she had to make sure Marius was kept under watch if it could at all be helped. For what he had done, he deserved a proper punishment before the entirety of the Keep's Guardsmen, that his shame would be forever known.

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
The orc threw Olvir against the wall, sending his sword clattering onto the ground and his body thrashing into the stone wall.

A lance of pain shot through the young Noble's back, spreading out like a spiderweb and causing him to let out a grunt of anguish. The greenskin didn't give him a second though and was quickly upon him. Smashing it's great fists down onto Ollie with wild and reckless abandon.

Again and again Ollie found himself struck. His arms coming up to block the great Orc's fists.

Without thinking he threw himself forward, sending him crashing against the greenskin. The two fell to the floor and broke apart, both quickly scrambling back and way. Ollie rushed towards his sword, grabbing it and swinging it an instant.

His blade struck steel and then flesh, cutting through the Orc which had risen and scrambled towards a nearby a hammer. One that he had been in the midst of swinging.

The Greenskin tumbled to the ground with a splatter of blood, joining the other corpses and leaving Ollie half sprawled on the ground. His chest rising and falling as the chaos of battle continued all around him, his gaze flickering over towards the Anirians.

Relief washing through him as he saw Kristen still alive.
 
Reynard felt both a sense of satisfaction as well as guilt as his sword found purchase in Jonas’s face. The man’s body fell to the ground dead. He’d have to think about all that later, for now he needed to maintain his focus on the fight. Reynard’s gaze followed Kristen and what he saw didn’t bring him any joy. Maisie was not as lucky as Kristen was, that much was undeniable as her head fell to the floor and her body crumpled just after it. This was not a good start to the fight, and Reynard couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the fact he couldn’t do anything to help her. He took solace in the fact he could at least save Kristen, that was something he’d have to remind himself of as the image of her decapitated corpse fell lifelessly. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed on.

Kristen acted quickly and with a combination of magic and a brutal back hand sent the surviving turncoat sprawled onto the ground. She turned to him and made her opinion on his fate clear, and in all honesty he felt himself agreeing. Execution was hardly the humane option, at the very least the man would be given a fair trial.

Reynard nodded in response. “You’ll have no argument from me.” Reynard reached into his bag and grabbed a small length of rope, it’d have to be enough. He quickly tied up the man's hands in the hopes he would either stay unconscious or awake with no options for escape. Reynard looked to the nearest guardsmen and issued an order out of instinct, not exactly remembering the fact he was an outsider. “Please keep watch of this traitor and ensure he doesn’t get out of this without proper consequences.” Reynard once again looked at Kristen and gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry for your loss. Let her sacrifice not be in vain, I will be by your side as you dismantle Ruzzak’s shield. We will mourn her after this battle.”
 
"Yes. Maisie shall be duly avenged," Kristen said to Reynard. Her death was a terrible reminder that fear, desperation, could easily corrupt the resolution of men, even of Guardsmen who swore an oath of service. And in a dire situation like this siege, that fear could spread like wildfire if left unchecked, and offers like the one Ruzzak had made here could become ever the more enticing. In Marius a clear example needed to be set.

No one else was going to betray their homeland here in Vel Hetren. No one.

Kristen gave a nod to Ollie, meeting his gaze briefly as he got himself back up onto his feet after dispatching an orcish warrior. Then to Reynard she said, "Hold, just for a while longer."

And she set to concentration again, working on that College Magic, beginning to engage in that unseen battle between herself and the orcish sorcerer Ruzzak. Her eyes were closed, head bowed, and her hands moved in remembered ritual motion.

Though even in the depth of this concentration, as the pitched fight between the orcs and the Guardsmen raged, a message was sent to her mind. Ruzzak had opened up a channel of communication between himself and her, the voices in their own minds most clear above all the commotion surrounding them.

His genial voice: What is it do you think you're doing, Anirian?

Sending you and yours scurrying back from whence you came.

Ahhh...but do you not see that you are doing a disservice to yourself more than to me?

I think not. I think you know what happens if you cannot capture this Keep in time.

We would welcome another Anirian army to crush. As for you, holding out in this Keep, it would be ignoble to perish from starvation, a shame to your blood. Why deny yourself a warrior's death? Why not fight, while you have the strength yet to hold a weapon?

You wish for war, in due time you shall have it, and before its end I will see your head impaled upon a pike, sorcerer.

Delighted, Ruzzak replied: The tide of blood from yours and mine, seeping into this soil upon which we stand, will make immortal this ground and bring honor to us both...Fare you well, Anirian.

The channel faded, and Kristen continued to cast her disrupting College spell. She just needed a little more time.

Olvir Reynard De Eramant
 
Ollie dragged himself off the ground, his strength quickly beginning to wane.

Though he was an accomplished swordsmen, the young noble had never fought in battle. Not like this. There'd been small skirmishes, quick fights between a band of mercenaries and some of Ollie's bodyguards. Hell, he'd even been in those scraps with Ivan and Alistair. Not to mention all of his tournament bouts and the practice he'd had for those.

But battle was proving to be something all together different.

It was terrifying, and yet at the same time thrilling. Exciting and exhausting. Beautiful in a way, but utterly horrifying.

The experience was one which would profoundly strike Ollie when he had time to reflect upon in. Yet in the moment all he could think about was his next foe. He saw Kristen, locked eyes with her briefly, noted Maisie was no longer there, and then continued to wade back Into the fight.

There wasn't time to talk. There wasn't time to process. There was only the thrill.

With a fierce roar, forcing himself to ignore the ache of tiredness in his arms, Ollie threw himself into battle. He was like a whirlwind, moving besides the Guardsmen as though he belonged at their side. As though he were fighting both the orcs, and some unstated other foe that only he could see.

As if he were redeeming himself.