It seemed no help was coming his way, unfortunately. Sular could make no assumptions as to what was going on on the East Wall, but it was quite clearly distracting his comrades to such an extent that they had either not heard his shout, or been unable to come to his aid. This put him a rather problematic situation, as he did not relish revisiting his swordfighting skills at this particular juncture, and from the stance his opponent had taken, it seemed that this person was trained to at least some degree.

The short figure did not move forward, one knife held high, the second held low. No clear openings presented themselves other than Sular's reach advantage. He held the broadsword he had acquired from the nearby soldier in one hand, in a simple guard stance. His opponent couldn't afford to continue unlocking the mechanisms, for he'd have to turn his back on Shular. The advantage-

Before Shular could finish the thought, a heavy Thunk sounded. In the short figure's hand was a small crossbow, having seemingly materialised from thin air. The impact of the bolt knocked Sular back three steps, as he stared down at the shaft. It was firmly planted into his chest, still quivering from the impact it had made. It was hard to comprehend, as the mind tried to catch up to what his subconscious had already realized. That before he'd even been able to react, he'd already been killed.

Or at least he would have, if it wasn't for the boiled leather plate he was wearing. Noticing the man already reassessing the odds, having assumed Sular to be dead, Sular took a moment to reassess his opponent, and say a silent prayer to the Earth Mother. Whomever this was, they weren't a barbarian, and they were FAST. He saw the figure take out some form of stone from a pocket artfully hidden in the robe, which he threw at the stairs. There was a flash, as if he'd been staring into the sun, and Sular had to cringe away from the sudden light produced by the stone. No doubt this was all the time the stranger would need.

Moving forward, still half-blind, Sular tried to strike out at this mysterious opponent. It was quite probably not the most intelligent of moves, but Sular burned with wounded pride. He was a master warrior, trained from the moment he'd been brought into this world, and he would not be bested by some fool with no name or honor. However, his sword was caught in between two expertly maneauvered daggers, and ripped from his fingers. Pain blossomed from his hand, and Sular drew back hastily, his slowly returning vision allowing him to watch as well as feel the blood running down froma nasty cut on his hand.

With a loud clanging, the mechanisms moved into action, the powerful reinforced gate lifting off of the ground. The stunned soldiers watched, blinded by the stone the strange figure had thrown. With graceful, unhurried steps, the cloaked figure walked along the now lowered wooden bridge, seemingly disappearing halfwayover it, just as he'd dropped out of everyone's sight. Sular had seen magic worked by his father's Grand Priest, a gift from the Earth Mother to her greatest of children, but he hesitated when watching this display. If it was magic, it was unlike anything he had ever seen. And yet, what else could explain such an appearance?

And even as the Shas-La prince puzzled, a roar thundered over the plains. The very forests and sands shook, and those that moments before had fired into the barbarians' faces stared, wide-eyed with fear. Thousands in number, the barbarians streamed out of the trees, roaring a berserker's cry. Sprinting full out, weapons flailing and with no regard for their own lives. They saw an opening in the massive walls that had proved the deaths of previous waves, and they swarmed to it as sharks to a man over the rail. And Sular, starin into the face of the oncoming horde, felt rather like that man staring into the eyes of death.