Jaer kicked an undead in the chest, shattering it's torso and collapsing it's ribcage. "Oh, no, I'm not scared. Its just I hate these things," he muttered, getting a nasty cut on his right arm, causing him to drop his sword. He continued with the other saber, though, up until this new man, claiming to be an overlord, arrived.

He smashed the nearest undead's head in and turned to face him. "No thanks, I tend to hang on to it," Jaer shouted back. He started chopping insanly again, feinting an overhead swing but instead smashing the shin bone with his foot. By then blood loss was getting to him; how deep was this scratch?

When he went to look, Jaer almost got his head chopped off by an undead he didn't see. He smacked it with the flat of his blade, sending it reeling towards the ground. He looked at the cut again; it had almost reached his bone.

How in the...

Jaer had no time, though, because more undead were coming, blades swinging widly. He tested his arm with a stick that weighed more than his dagger; it hurt, but he could hold it. He dropped the clumsly wood and pulled out his jeweled blade that had killed so many and started hacking away, darting in and out of the undead's attacks.

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