Now some distance from the noise of battling soldiers and rebelling citizens that emanated from the Northern gate of Coronton, Niks could be found jogging down the main road until he finally neared the inner gate which led into the small Castle around which the entire City was built. As he neared the entrance, which at first gnce appeared to be unmanned, the sound of his approaching footsteps summoned several men in Coronton tabards who moved in from the sides to block his way. The small Count skittered to a sudden halt, and for a moment wore a look of dismay, before he noticed that these men were not the rge and rough-looking thugs that Borney kept in his employ, nor did they resemble the well-groomed and proper Coronton loyalist soldiers whom he had seen during his st visit. No, if he had to compare them to anyone it would be to the Militiamen that Lady Merida had brought with her party from Stoppridge.

  “Wh-who goes there?” Called one of the uniformed men. “Gate’s closed, Mayor’s orders!”

  They must be men of the Town Watch, volunteers gathered from among the peasants. Niks observed.

  “I am Niks, Count of Petrice!” He called back, causing them to startle and then fall into a series of unsure murmurs amongst themselves. “You will let me pass!”

  These guardsmen eyed him warily, taking note of his fine clothes, but also with how his face and shirt had recently been spattered with dirt and blood. Niks then drew his sword from its scabbard, causing a few of these guardsmen to take a step back, thinking he might be making ready to threaten them. But instead, Niks flipped the sword around so that he held it by the bde, clearly presenting its hilt for one of them to take. After a moment of hesitation, one man dared step forward and retrieve it, and no sooner had he done so than did the rest of the men crowd around the brave volunteer to gaze upon it.

  “You can see it engraved there, at the base of the bde. It is the Crest van der Leigh, the House of my birth. This should be proof enough of my identity.”

  “It is of very fine make, too…” Mumbled the guardsman, marveling a bit at the craftsmanship, the likes of which he had never before had the opportunity to see up close.

  Dutifully, the man mimicked what Niks had done previously as he turned the sword around to grip the bde so that Niks may safely take it back by its hilt. He did so without hesitation, swiftly returning it to its scabbard.

  “I am satisfied you are who you say, my Lord, but I am still under orders from the Lord-Mayor to bar any access to his estate.” The soldier informed him, gncing back towards the small castle.

  Niks stood as rigid and upright as he could manage. “The situation has changed, soldier. Mister Borney has been discovered to be a criminal from Otkorn, sent under false pretenses to steal the nd on which the city resides. Your true Lord, if he still lives, is imprisoned within that Castle. I intend to see him freed, and that chartan Borney brought down, before he can cause any further suffering!”

  The small group of guardsmen went pale-faced with shock at the revetion that had just been dropped on their heads, some of their mouths even hanging ajar as they struggled to make sense of it.

  “I-I’m sorry, my Lord?” The head guardsman asked incredulously.

  A realization struck Niks then, and with as much authority as he could bring he pointed his finger in a broad arc to mark all of them. “In fact, you shall all accompany me in performing my duty. We will arrest this criminal and set this territory straight!”

  The guardsmen all stood unmoving for a long moment. None of them were sure of what to do in this situation, and all of them were waiting for another man to make the first move, so that they may simply follow suit. Niks, realizing their predicament, clicked his tongue and pced his hands on his hips quite haughtily.

  “--and there will be a generous monetary reward for any and all of the men who aid me in the apprehension of this wanted fugitive!”

  Before he could even finish speaking those hesitant guardsmen had arranged themselves into a neat and orderly row, with their arms raised in enthusiastic salutes over their brows.

  That’s more like it. Niks mused to himself with a triumphant grin.

  With their men outside of the city either dead or scattered to the hills, the criminal conscripts positioned upon the walls hurled down tools, bricks, heavy stones, and whatever else they could get their hands on in a desperate bid to keep the enemy below at bay. A small side gate into the city had been discovered, the same portal through which that previous band of ruffians had snuck out to surprise the force from Castle Petrice, who in turn had now gathered around it themselves, and were attempting to break it down. Not having brought any sort of equipment for a proper siege, this doorway appeared to be their only opportunity for gaining entry. Unfortunately the small gate was still thoroughly reinforced and quite heavy, and even with the mighty Knights van der Leigh taking it in turns to throw their shoulders against it, it nonetheless showed no indications that it might give way any time soon.

  “Have you found any other points of entry?” Ser Glorifeld asked his men, who were sat upon their horses and gathered about fifty or so meters away from the city walls, a safe distance from anything that might be thrown their way.

  The other cavalrymen shook their heads. “No, sir. There are a few other gates simir to this one, but they have already been shut as well.”

  Ser Glorifeld grit his teeth in frustration, his thoughts centered around his charge, who was stranded alone within enemy territory, and his chest tightened in a helpless, constricting surge of anxiety.

  “You lot stay here. Ser Herrod, you’re in charge!” He commanded, the man whom he had delegated authority to nodding his head in acknowledgement. “I must go and retrieve the Countess. She is our only hope!”

  With that he kicked his horse with his spurs, causing her to rear back with a whinny before thundering back towards the Northern gate.

  Thwack!

  Nayantara was thrown off-bance–and very nearly entirely off her feet–as the heel of Manqoba’s boot harshly struck against the side of her head! She only just managed to bring her arm up to her ear as a shield before the blow nded, or else she very well might have been knocked unconscious, and it was a testament to his inhuman strength that even his blocked attack still sent her reeling.

  While the mysterious warrior’s back was turned to him and his focus y on Nayantara, Thomas lunged forward, the tip of his rapier aimed at the man’s neck. However, following in the same fluid motion he used to kick Nayantara, the man spun on the tip of his boot with the grace of a trained dancer and used the momentum to bring the bde in his left hand around to deflect Thomas’ strike just before it could nd! This now meant Thomas, who was still caught up in the middle of his lunging attack, could not halt himself, but could only watch in slow-motion as the warrior’s second bde swept in straight towards his own neck–

  –Cng!

  Uldred’s massive sword moved in faster than seemed possible and blocked the fatal blow a scant few seconds before it could nd, and for once Manqoba found his momentum utterly halted, as the Countess’ monstrous strength dwarfed even his own superior physical ability! Thomas quickly somersaulted over his shoulder and out of harm’s way, and after he had nded and resumed a ready stance, for a moment all four of the combatants assembled there were still–despite Manqoba’s best efforts to the contrary.

  His gaze flicked up from where his bde was locked with the Countess’ to make eye contact with the woman herself, who narrowed her venomous violet gaze down at him before falling into a lunge of her own, approaching him at speed and with both of her arms outstretched, clearly intending to grapple the man into submission with a massive bear-hug! It was only by a hair’s breadth that he managed to duck beneath her left shoulder as she made to bring her arms together around his shoulders, and after slipping out of her hold it was his turn to lose his footing and roll away. Once he arose and spun back around to face the trio, Manqoba grimaced and clenched his jaw in frustration, for while he escaped Uldred’s grasp he had drawn his sword in a deadly sliced down across her belly–only to find that her armor was simply too thick for him to penetrate!

  Letting her sword sink into the earth beside her, Uldred pced her hands on her hips and paced a few steps before turning to face him once more, clearly just as frustrated with his evasive agility as he was by her indomitable physicality.

  This is taking too long! Both of them privately bemoaned, completely unaware that the other was thinking the exact same thing that very moment.

  Uldred peered up at the sky then, taking in the grey and ever-present clouds above them, before sighing, not without some regret. “...Nayantara, do it. We’ll cover for you.” She ordered.

  The Huntress’ face lit up, as if she had been waiting this whole time for that very command. “Right you are, my Lady!” She excimed excitedly, returning her sword to the sheath she carried upon her back.

  ‘It’? Manqoba wondered to himself.

  He watched dubiously as the dark-skinned woman sunk into a wide and low stance and slowly raised her right hand as if she was reaching to take ahold of the sky itself, while she held her left palm-outward and pointed squarely in his direction. The other two Fmberges stood in front of her protectively, falling into their regur ready fighting stances. Manqoba copied them, realizing in his gut something was going wrong with this situation, but unsure of what it could be. Then he felt it–the peculiar but familiar sensation of his hair beginning to rise and stand on end. Then the new, still-raw skin on his back began to scream out in a painful warning, and his eyes shot open in sudden, panicked realization. Without hesitation Manqoba charged forward, his eyes locked firmly upon the dark-skinned woman who was clearly the source of this threatening force, and Uldred and Thomas surged up to meet him!

  Thomas was quicker and led the charge. However, instead of employing a one-handed, lunging strike as he normally did, the wandering swordsman bent his elbows as he gripped his hilt with both hands, and in this way he twirled and filed the tip of the bde about almost randomly before him, forcing Manqoba to fall into an unexpected and frantic defense to hold him off! In but a few short seconds the two appeared to exchange nearly a hundred blows between one another, a deadly game of chess they pyed in the blink of an eye, before Manqoba managed to push Thomas’ weapon aside with his own and used this chance to brutally smash their foreheads together, causing Thomas to slump to the ground, having been knocked quite unconscious!

  Manqoba was not offered even a second of respite as the Countess now advanced to face him, obstructing his way better than any wall of stone could, and she had used the time Thomas bought them to set up her own attack, as her massive sword was already swinging down with the brutal precision of a butcher’s knife to cut him fully in twain! Manqoba stepped to one side to avoid the bde, and with a firm stance he swung both his swords in from the side at once, as if the two combined perfectly into a single club, and it was in this way that he smashed them into the side of her head, his blow causing her ever-present silver mask to shatter into several pieces! She fell to her knees and cried out–although it was in arm, rather than pain–hurriedly covering her face with her hands. Having successfully put her out of commission, Manqoba stepped deftly past her slumped form, and his path towards Nayantara was finally clear. However, as he finally turned his attention towards her singur form, he saw that her face was split in a wicked Cheshire grin, and her hair and clothing were beginning to float about as if she had somehow weakened the grip of gravity itself upon her, and he realized he was too te to prevent what she was–

  –CRACK!

  Everyone in the area winced in pain as a familiar, horrid and ear-splitting sound rang in the ears. For everyone but the target of the attack, the dark warrior himself, it happened much too fast to be seen. Still, for anyone who caught even for a millisecond’s glimpse of the event, its overwhelming brightness caused the image of it to be burnt into their retinas. Manqoba was so close that for many minutes afterwards he could see nothing but that st, awful moment in which a vein of lightning descended from those gray and ominous clouds into the upturned palm of the Huntress, which was then redirected and sent coursing out through her other hand!

  His next conscious moment was spent wondering in numb bewilderment at how long he had been staring up at the sky, and how he had ended up lying on his back in the first pce. He then became aware of a terrible, burning pain in his lungs: it was the desire for air. How long had it been since he st drew in breath? But when he next attempted to suck air into his body, he realized with arm that he could not move a single muscle to accomplish the task! His eyes bulged with panic and he began to writhe in a series of minute spasms as what he could move of his desperate body grappled against the painful–and potentially lethal–hold of his paralysis. The pain in his chest grew to a white-hot bze as he slowly drowned on dry nd, and the corners of his vision began to bcken and fade as his eyes rolled up in his skull.

  Then–he felt it! His lungs were finally waking and responding to his desperate commands. He gasped loudly and his chest began to heave like a bellows as he gratefully gulped down the sweetest breaths of air he had ever tasted. No sooner did feeling and control return to his extremities as well, than did he roll over onto his hands and knees, still breathing so heavily from his mouth that spittle drooled from his lips down onto the dirt.

  “Aw dammit.” He heard the voice of a woman say from behind him, although it was rendered muffled and unintelligible by the violent ringing in his ears.

  He turned his head slowly, then, until his vision rested upon Nayantara, who was sprawled out upon the dry grass and also in a most arming state! She clutched at her right arm, which was awfully bckened and emitting smoke, its flesh appearing to have fully transformed into a gruesome approximation of charred coals. The only signs of life came in the form of trickles of blood which occasionally leaked out between the cracks of her scorched skin from the raw flesh beneath. All that being said, even if her arm hurt terribly the Huntress did not show it, or perhaps she had been inured to it from past experience.

  Manqoba attempted to pull himself back to his feet, groaning with considerable effort as he did so, for the whole of his being felt wobbly, as if the shock had rendered him completely boneless. The man stumbled forward unsteadily for several steps until he seemed to regain some sembnce of bance. Although his vision still swam terribly, he still determinedly peered about the area to gain some understanding of his predicament. The male Hunter he had brought low previously was also just coming to, and the giantess had drawn herself up and turned to face him, readying her massive bde for an attack. Manqoba looked down to where his own weapons had fallen from his hands, only to find them reduced to naught but charred hilts and warped metal, since he had instinctively crossed them before himself as a st-ditch attempt at self-protection. He scoffed regretfully at the loss of them, for those weapons had held some small pce in his heart, but then he steeled himself, turned directly on his heel and began to weakly stumble away from the city and the battle going on around it in what appeared to be an aimless, randomly-chosen wandering.

  Uldred slowly lowered her bde as she watched the man leave. Part of her wished to chase him down and put an end to him then and there, but then she looked over to where her companions y, exhausted or injured, on the ground. As she began to tend to their wounds, she detected the frantic, galloping hoofbeats of an approaching horse, and when she looked up she saw Ser Glorifeld making his way around the bend of the city wall.

  “Countess!” He cried out. “You are needed, my Lady!”

  Once the familiar door into the castle creaked as it was pulled ajar by two of the watchmen who now accompanied him, Niks strode through with the rest of their number at his back. Standing firm and walking with a purposeful gait, Niks managed to radiate something approximating the intimidating aura that a Nobleman should, despite his unimpressive stature. The watchmen were notably less proficient in projecting an image of confidence. They were only really proficient at halting the occasional drunken brawl, and the idea of engaging in real combat was frightening to them. Still, they were good men who would not abandon their Lord to face his fate alone.

  After passing through the short entrance hall they entered into that familiar decorated foyer with a small staircase which led up to its second-story bannister. Blocking their way forward were several more of those Otkornian thugs, who sneered as they approached as if they had been awaiting their arrival.

  “Stop there!” Called out one of these brutes. “No one gets past ‘ere.”

  The guardsmen looked to Niks for direction, who nodded solemnly back to them, and they quickly drew their weapons at his signal. Some of them carried short spears, while others drew the arming swords which hung from loops on their belts. Niks himself drew his fine new cutss from its scabbard and took a step forward so that he stood at the head of his small troupe.

  “Stand down now and I’ll see to it that you aren’t hanged!” Niks offered their opponents a final chance for mercy.

  However, the thugs only chuckled derisively in response. “I don’t know ‘bout you boys, but I ain’t goin’ back to rot a cell!” The others growled their agreement.

  Well, it was worth a try… Niks thought to himself, as he grit his teeth and prepared himself for the terrifying prospect of imminent combat.

  "W-we will hold them here, yer Lordship!" Stammered the head guard, putting on his most confident face, though it was not convincing. "You g-go on ahead!"

  Niks looked back at the men at first surprised, then with a grim and regretful look, but he nodded to them in agreement. Then the Count thrust his cutss forwards towards the oncoming brutes.

  "Charge!"