Dyce had just gotten into the mess hall upon hearing Andre's instructions and let out a sigh. The guy just had no luck the last few days, such as last night he was stuck with the smith, looking over the legion's equipment. That wouldn't be a problem normally, except it took practically all night. Dyce got maybe an hour of sleep before the resident senile old man decided to act like the place was under siege. There Dyce stood, leaning against the doorway, with his eyes squinted nearly shut. "Why... Now?" he muttered. His head hung low as he made his way toward the breakfast stash. This was supposed to be his last formal meal before leaving and... ugh. Not anymore. He grabbed some meat and bread and started eating while walking to the carriages. Upon reaching them, Dyce heard a woman's voice. “Eheh, while I understand that you two have had little contact with each other, do you have to be so C.L.O.S.E. to him? Frankly, it bothers me. A lot. Quite a lot actually. I hope you don’t mind if I politely ask you to S.T.O.P.” Dyce cringed a little. That mage scared him a little, honsetly. Making sure to avoid eye contact, he walked past that certain carriage. He looked back and saw Jacob and Caroline. He made a small salute motion as he turned back around, continuing to find a cart. Choosing a random one, he hopped in, sitting across from a sleeping comrade. Deciding not to disturb her, Dyce leaned his head onto the side of the carriage, trying to decide on whether to sleep or not.

Caroline She glared at the mage holding the glass, her staff rested at her side. "Listen missy, you can like him all you damn well please but he's my brother. I grew up with him and help take care of him when he was little. Now if you really want to get along come have a seat beside me. I don't mind if you come play with his hair too, beside's he mumble your name a minute ago in his sleep. I'd love for you to explain why." She asked the mage as the carriage's set off, the trip would take many hours and stretch most of the day but by noon they were crossing a small bridge that lead up into the mountain pass. Jacklyn The word came back that expeditionary force arrived, the rough sea's of the winter had cost them half the force. Most of it sunk to the bottom of the sea. There remaining force had spread out and began the creation of a base of operations taking over a old coastal fort, dissembling there ships to repair it. Most of there forces consisted of cavaliers, mercenaries, and barbarians along with one squad of Pegasus knights who they used to deliver messages. A strike force had been sent to find and kill the Champion. It might not have been to plan but Jacklyn smiled burned the report, the Grand Cleric didn't need to know any of this after all.

Nephene opened one eye at the creaking of boards as someone else got into the wagon in here. He looked kinda of scrawny, "What ya in for?" Nephene drawled curious to know why he had joined the merry little band. He didn't look like he had enough muscle to be good in a fight, even Nephene had bigger guns then him.

Dyce looked over at the other member of the caravan. He had honestly thought that she was asleep. "Me? They just picked me up after a little run in with the Church. I'm pretty sure I saved them more than they saved me. What about you?" he inquired. The armor kind of gave away her position, but just knowing your team could make a difference. Or so Dyce had been told.

Jerod Jerod hadn't remembered rightly leaving the mess hall, passing out, and stumbling into a pseudo conscious state long enough to fall into a caravan cart and pass out again. He groaned, feeling a hard lump beneath where he was sleeping. Sitting up, and hearing several joints pop, he glanced back to see a full bottle of some booze he had kept from the barracks mess hall. Well, wasn't that just perfect? Stashing the bottle in his bag, he groaned and stood up, or tried to before coming to his sense fully. Not the best place to do that, a rocking, moving cart. It had been quite a few hours, judging from the brightest light coming from the available paths for the light to travel in the cart. Promptly ignoring his previous thought, he opened the back of the cart fully and stood up out the back, hanging on and taking in his surroundings. An impromptu sentry duty, as it were, noting the small bridge and following pass would make a good ambush, if he were a smart bandit. Well, smart enough to be stupid enough to attack this convoy, at any rate. Beyond that, unless someone got his attention, he was silent, hanging off the back and looking around, his gut telling him violence was about to occur, and there wouldn't be much waiting until it happened.

Nephene lazily replied as she shut her eye intending to get back to napping, "Eh just happened to be around when Mr. Hero of the world back there got ganked by some lowlifes. Following him seems to be a quick road to big things," a statment oddly out of charcter of her normally flamoyant and somewhat socially clumsy self.

Marius had been writing alongside of the caravan of wagons on his trusty steed, Bucephalus. Since he was a mounted knight, there was no need for Marius even to think about riding in any of the wagons. He had his own form of transportation that would get him to wherever he wished. Marius was just glad that it actually happened to be quite a nice day. It would have been quite miserable if Marius had to ride exposed to some harsh elements, whether it be rain, snow, or heat, while his companions were comfortably protected by their covered moving shelters. While riding beside the caravan, Marius noticed someone was hanging off the back of one of the wagons. Did whoever it was not know that hanging off a moving vehicle like the ones in this caravan could be dangerous? Perhaps this individual still was under the influence of the alcohol that he (or she) had consumed the night prior (or, god forbid, this morning). Therefore, Marius decided to investigate in order to inquire who it was. Marius discovered that the man who was hanging off the edge was Jerod, one of the hardened mercenaries that were accompanying this motley crew that was called the Shepherds. “Morning, Sir Jerod.” Marius turned Bucephalus around so that he would be riding along side of the wagon and moving in the same direction. “What on earth has possessed you to hang off the edge of this wagon? Surely that Marianne character has not enchanted you into doing so? Or is there a different perpetrator in this, such as King Beer?” Abra looked over her former foster mother’s house once last time, checking to ensure that she was not leaving anything behind that she thought that she was either going to need or going to miss if she happened to forget it. She had spent her whole life in this house. It was almost heartbreaking that she was about ready to leave it forever. Even in spite of her fond memories of this place, there was nothing chaining her down in this place anymore, ever since the death of her foster mother, Helike. Unfortunately, it was just time for Abra to move on to other, and hopefully better, things. As the floorboards underneath her creaked from the stress placed upon them by her foot, Abra took one last gander at Helike’s bookshelf. Abra obviously could not bring all the books that populated the shelving unit; all these books would just weigh her down, if she could carry them all in the first place. After some careful deliberation, Abra pulled out one of the books off the shelf. The cover of this book was deep red, hinting at the focus on fire enchantments that lay hidden within that book. However, this was not the only book that drew her attention. Abra pulled out a second book, this one having a blackish-purple cover, almost like the color of raisins made from Black Corinth grapes. This was the book that Abra had stumbled upon on the night of her sixteenth birthday. Something about that book just drew her attention to it. Was she going to use it? Of course not, but there was just a little nagging voice inside her head that nodded her to bring it along too. After making her last round about the house, Abra gathered up her bag and headed toward the door. Before she left, Abra grabbed a small urn from the fireplace mantle. Within this miniature container was a fraction of the ashes of her recently-departed foster mother. The rest of her ashes had been buried in the backyard, with only a small marker that declared that Helike was laid to rest there. While she considered that bringing along this urn might come off as, well, morbid and grotesque, but at the same time, it almost felt as if her foster mother was still at her side, guiding her on whatever road lies ahead of Abra. With one last sorrowful tear, Abra departed from her foster mother’s house for the last time.

Jerod Jerod had heard, and seen, the horse and armor wearing rider long before said rider, Marius, had stated anything as he reached speaking distance, a warhorse and armored man made a far different sound then the horses of burden and the sound of carts moving across a bumpy road. Drinking didn't harm his skills nearly as much as other folk, he could boast a natural tolerance above most folks, it came with the territory of, stereotypes aside, utilizing taverns and their generally crossroad esq nature to be able to track and find information. But that was neither here nor there, the man had asked and questioned his motives for hanging off the back of the cart, and an easy smirk found its way on Jerod's face. "Ach, g' mornin' t' ye too, 'orseman. Ain' no foreign influence 'ere, jus' keepin' an eye out 'round us. Ye cannae' trust t'em damned Feroxians 'arther t'en ye can throw em, savvy? An' t'ere th' closest problem ah can see 'aving reason to come at us." Jerod's smirk faded at the reminder of their destination and whom they would be entering discussions with, and spoke quieter, and in a far more serious tone to Marius, since that man would have better luck talking to the lad himself in an advisory role, no doubt. "Th' Feroxians method o' leadershi' is ass backwards, an' a' political a' it is strength o' arms. I 'oping th' lad Champion 'imself knows wha' 'e's gettin' us into 'ere. It migh' serve ye well t' check on th' lad, see tha' 'e knows wha' he's dealin' with 'ere. I ca' explain some if 'e wants, but ye migh' be able t' talk to 'im sooner, being on an 'orse and such, aye?" The last bit got a chuckle out of Jerod, and he resumed his scanning of their surroundings, determined to not put anymore thoughts on Ragna Ferox, or those damned Feroxian politics, until he absolutely had to.

Marianne stared at Caroline with at twitching eye. This girl dared to speak to her about Jacob? She had to restrain herself from just lunging at the princess right then. Heck, she had to dig her nails into her palm just to stave off the thought of turning Caroline into cricket. Only her common sense prevailed, and the reasoning that Jacob would be greatly distressed to find his sister’s head in his lap. That, and it was probably best not to cause another war with Ylisse. Smiling in a twisted manner, Marianne moved over to sit next to princess. Even she had to admit, the opportunity to play with Jacob’s hair was not one to gloss over. Doing just that, she softly petted the Tactician’s head, giggling to herself at the touch. She was about to fully memorize the exact texture of her beloved’s hair when Caroline’s earlier request distracted her. “Hmm? Oh, we’re happily engaged of course! He’s so cute when he sleeps like this…hehe, I hope you don’t M.I.N.D”

Dyce let out a small sigh. It seemed like the same story for a lot of the people that were in the company. They all cam from different places, with different pasts and abilities, but that was the same. They all ran into the Shepards and here they were. "I guess that's the same for both of us, and it wouldn't surprise me if it was like that for every single person here, except for you-know-who. Ah, I haven't introduced myself, have I? Name's Dyce, from Regna Ferox," Dyce said, leaning forward and holding out his hand.

Marius ran his fingers through his fine beard, pondering over what Jerod had just told him. “I don’t know if going and talking to Sir Jacob would be the wisest of decisions. When I rode past his carriage, Sir Jacob was already lost in heavy sleep. We all know what happened to Sir Andres when he unexpectedly woke everyone up. He got to experience the wrath of Princess Steel Toe, as my fellow knights like to call Princess Caroline.” “Anyways, by the sound of what was happening in that cart, it seems like a conflict was arising between our lovely princess and our local dark mage. I don’t want to be anywhere near that if such a conflict reaches its boiling point.” While Marius was responding to his mercenary companion, Jerod had continued to scan the horizon. Jerod had already mentioned his distrust of the Feroxians, but Marius did not think that the people of Regna Ferox would be that daring to assault this caravan. Although Marius was unsure what else he was looking for, he decided it would be best to ask. “So, Sir Jerod, it seems obvious that you are trying to act like a lookout or a sentinel. Beyond rogue Feroxians, what else are you scanning the fields for?”

Jerod could appreciate Marius at least being considerate enough to not go and tell him he was a looney for his outlook and mentality on the situation, and shrugged at the response he gave. His report on the dark mage lass and princess arguing with each other got an amused snort out of the mercenary, nothing more, nothing less for now, instead focusing on one thing at a time. "Ach, ye don' 'ave t' do it whe' th' lad ain' awake. Tha' bloody minded princess o' yers can sod off fer all I care, savvy? Ah jus' made a' poin' o' tellin' ye somethin' tha' might be o' use. 'owever ye decide t' use it, tha's on yer 'ead and conscious. It ain' on mine." Jerod had not let his vigil down in the interim, instead focusing on scanning the fields and woods as they passed them. Bandits liked to hide in them, and while people tended to see the Feroxians as little more than thoughtless barbarians, they were far more cunning than most outsiders would give credit for. Effectively, signs of traps or disturbed areas that would indicate someone hiding and waiting for unwary convoys to ambush. It wouldn't have been the first time he had been on a secure convoy that had come under attack. "Tha's simple, Marius. Feroxians o' a certain banner, t' b' 'onest. 'andits, traps, muck'd up nature areas, an' indicator o' a' ambush, savvy?" Jerod didn't explain what brand of Feroxians he was specifically watching for, but he was indeed watching for a very select group of them, considering what he knew, it was not surprising why. Secondly, this was a well raided road, saw a lot of bloodshed. What was one more convoy to be ruined along a road soaked in blood? No, someone had to be brazen enough to try, and add their own blood to the soil and dirt that made up this particular road.

Andres The old man had awoken moments ago stretching his old bones, when he caught whiff of the smell of fire and as they crested the hill, his fear became reality. Before them were dozens of Church troops descending upon the Feroxi walls, the Longfort was strong but the Church had religious zealotry on their side. He hoped down. "Drivers, back down the hill. I will go to aid the Feroxi forces, I am well respected among there soldiers. Jacob, this is your first command screw it up and I'll roast you alive. I want to see all these young folks alive when I return." With that the old man walked forward into the sea of enemy's before him. Yet not one could touch him, his spells finding there mark without him having to bat an eye his sword blocking deflecting and killing those that dared to oppose the grand master. These were not the true soldiers of the church, merely fanatics with the Church taking the role of leadership. He was soon helping to guide and hold the Feroxi's position inside the Longfort. While they stopped those that would pass, the Shepherds would the hand that ended this battle. Jacob Yawned waking up slowly, yawning as he opened his eyes greet by the sight of sister and Marianne. He was about to ask the question when he Andres shoot orders, he didn't even take a moment rolling out of there laps and jumping out the back of his cart he drew his blade. "Marius, Jerod to the front with me. Marianne, Caroline you stay behind us, Marianne your in charge of covering us. Caroline keep us moving we take a hit mend it fast, no time for precise work just quick and clean. Jerod your taking those on the left, I'm on the right. Marius your going up the middle, try not to outpace your faster than we are." With that he drew his blade, watching his Master wade forth in to the fight he gulped, he didn't want to see anyone hurt, let alone dead. Steeling himself he spun his blade looked back, the drivers of the carts looked nervous as they watched these little ragtag band of soldiers prepare to face at least two dozen fanatics. "Everyone else is on rear guard, lets not get surrounded." He said drawing his blade, in truth he wanted to throw up and cry at this disturbing scene, yet he couldn't they looked to him for guidance and he had to be strong... Even if he was just a boy. Caroline "Wait your engag-!?" She said as the commotion started, yet when she looked down to wake him, he had gone. "Come let's not keep them waiting." She jumped out and gasped, she had seen bandit raids but this was... men lay implanted on spikes. Soldiers clamored to break through the Feroxi line, heads rolls and blood filled the frozen earth. She stood half in awe and half terrified of the carnage, her little brother he just rolled forward and begun to issue order. Him who was scared lightning as a child now ordered her comrades forward. She could watch in shock, her little brother was far braver than she, now she needed to count on him. Taking shaky steps forward she followed, unarmed and shivering she started her ways towards the battle field.

Nephene shook hands with her new companion and then the smell of smoke invaded her nostrils. She sniffed curiously and looked outside the wagon to see... Andres leaping into battle and Jacob shouting orders. She didn't let go off Dyce's hand and instead opted to drag him with her, "Come on, time to prove your worth!" she shouted as she grabbed her spear and leapt out of the wagon running towards the back. She released his hand as she arrived at the rear and saw, Caroline headed towards the battle field for some reason. Nephene stepped in front of her, "No way misse, if you want to fight you need to at least have some kind of weapon on you." she said forcibly blocking the way while keeping an eye on the fanatics ready to rush to Jacobs aid if he needed her.

“Marius, you’re going up the middle. Try not to outpace us. You’re faster than we are.” Marius heard the orders of the Shepherd’s commander. Immediately after Jacob had given his commands, one of the squires rushed forward, holding a lance in his hands. Once the young man had reached Marius’ side, Marius snatched the lance away from the squire. Now that he had his lance in hand, his sword at his side, and a few javelins at hand for any skirmishing, if any would happen at all, Marius rode forward, forming what would become the frontline. However, before he did so, Marius had a few words for Jerod.

“Rogue Feroxians, indeed. How does it feel that you have to fight the church in order to save the soldiers of Regna Ferox?” After he spoke, Marius rode off with a smile. However, that smile was short lived, as before him and his companions were over two dozens of church-supported soldiers, attempting to lay sage to the Longfort.

While he waited for Jerod and Jacob to take their own positions beside him, Marius whispered a quick prayer, audible only to himself and the deity to whom he was praying. Marius did not wish to spill the blood of fellow believers, but they left him with no choice. However, Marius saw the twisting and corrupting of Naga’s teachings and beliefs as even worse than shedding these men’s blood. Therefore, after he had asked for forgiveness on account of what he was about ready to do, Marius sat there on Bucephalus, ready for the order to march forward.


Abra headed southward, travelling along a path that happened to pass by the Feroxian walls. Inside her bag was a small necklace that her foster mother had discovered around her neck when Abra was a mere infant. Besides her name (which was a relief because for the longest time, Abra thought her name came from the magical enchantment), there was on the necklace an insignia of one of the dukedoms of Ylisse. This dukedom was not as prominent or tied with the royal monarchy in Ylisse, like the Dukedom of Themis was, but it’s a dukedom none the less. Abra was partially afraid of going, worrying that she would discover that she was abandoned because she was a bastard child or something along those lines. But where else would she go?

Abra heard some foliage rustle behind her. Alarmed by the noise, she swung around and scanned her surroundings. When she saw that there was nothing there, that it must have been the wind, Abra continued forward.

However, before she could take a couple steps forward, two soldiers serving the Church sprung out of the woods and grabbed ahold of her. Abra tried to pull herself out of the two men’s grasp, but all what she did was struggle in vain.

“So what do we have here? A Feroxian spy?” One of the soldiers tightened his grip around Abra’s arm, making her wince.

“I don’t know, she doesn’t look like one of those Feroxian women. She looks more Ylissean to me.” The other soldier placed one hand on Abra’s lower jaw, moving her head from side to side in order to get a better look at her face.

“Whatever she is, all we know is that she is stacked like no other. How is that even natural?”

“Can’t you tell? She’s a witch. She probably placed a hex on herself to create that appearance.” The second soldier began to tie Abra’s hands together with a rope, tightening them so much that they began to dig into her skin, causing Abra to grimace at the pain. “You know what, since the Feroxians have been giving us quite a fight and our own moral is starting to waver, why don’t we take this beauty here for ‘helping out’ the morale, if you catch my drift?” The first soldier nodded in agreement.

“You both are perverts!” Abra screamed, hoping that someone would here, but knowing deep inside that she was doing so in vain. In spite of her protest, the two soldiers ignored her. Instead, they just lead her to their horses and made their way back to camp.

Jerod

Jerod could smell and hear the combat before he saw it, and was off the back of the cart in a heartbeat, moving at a brisk run to pull ahead of the carts as they halted, stopping as he caught up to the Champion of Naga, Marius not having wasted any time arming up and trotting up as well. Orders were dispatched, and Jerod grinned in a very unpleasant kind of way, drawing his sword and flourishing it as he fell in step to the left of Marius. Line breaking charge, a classic approach. The old pervert was off being a big damn hero, rallying the Feroxians at the gate and bracing the church fanatics the entirely wrong direction. Well, what a shame for them, Jerod began laughing as he walked forward, even with Marius's comment on rogue Feroxians.

"Ach, I wasn' worried 'bout any rogue Feroxian's, 'orseman. I's the sworn ones I be worried 'bout." Jerod was never worried about rogue's, hell, they would have most likely been more easily dealt with than the Feroxian's he was thinking of. But, long story short, that was now not a real concern. Right now, they had fighting to do. Jerod kept that confident grin on his face as he kept in step with the advance, calling over to the lad champion himself. "'ow abou t'is, laddie. Ye keep up, I migh' buy ye a drink. Soun' like a good deal? Time t' show th' damned fanatics n' bloody god ca' save t'em now."

Niya and Solanne

The sounds of conflict, smells of death, and even the clouds of smoke were dead give aways that something was going rather poorely for the Feroxian people. Some distance away from this violence, however, were a pair of figures, one one horse back, the other currently standing next to the horse. The two had crossed paths some time ago, and while there had been little conflict up until this point, it was clear that it was no longer avoidable. The woman on horseback looked down towards her current companion, who was no doubt stretching after the long day's travel, before speaking briefly.

"Miss Solanne, trouble ahead. Feroxians are having a hard time of things."

"Huh?"

Solanne was much too busy observing the land around them to hear what Niya, her current partner, was saying. It took her a few moments to process the statement before a determined grin sprung to her visage.

"Look's like this war's pretty rough on both side, eh Niya? Heh, but I'm thankful we haven't run into any of those Naga Church fanatics yet. Wouldn't want the smell of burning flesh to clog up my nose, ya know?"

She gave the girl on horseback a thumbs up, coupled with a snarky smile.

"Quite."

Niya was quite different from the woman on foot, while she was grinning and making gestures, the horsebound woman was sitting quietly, almost regally, overlooking the distant smoke and what scatterings of violence she could pick out. The healer had already made up her mind on where they were going to head out to next, whether Solanne liked it or not was a completely different story. But before she could bring it up, there was a few figures closer to them than the usual violence, seeing this, she pointed it out.

"Look, trouble. Prisoner, probably of the two fanatics. Should intervene, gods knows what the depraved have in mind."

Niya was thinking about approaches they could make. Speed, shock and awe were probably their best bets in this case, but Niya waited for a few moments to allow her companion a word in edge wise, even as the healer turned her horse, already planning a route to intercept the two fanatics and their prisoner.

"Yeah I see them," Solanne answered with a crack to her knuckles. "Got a plan? Or are we just going to rush them? One for each of us to take out," she said with that same confident grin.

"Staves aren't terribly good weapons, hop on my horse. I have a plan. We run them down, I free the prisoner while you mop up."

Niya offered a hand to Solanne to haul her up on the horse, seeming to already have fully decided to take command of the situation and Solanne was along for the ride now, very literally vice the usual metaphor that the expression usually intended. Once hauled onto the horse, Niya took off at full gallop, heading straight for the two fanatics and their prisoner, not a word escaping her mouth.

Likewise, Solanne nodded, keeping a tight grip on her blade as they swiftly approached the two. Once they were in proper distance of the two perverts, she slipped free her blade and held it in her hand, ready to slice when directed.

"So we killing these guys? Or are you more of the subdue person seeing as you're a healer and all that?"

Solanne shrugged.

"Well, whatever your orders are boss."

"Kill them, let the Gods sort them out."

Niya rode them directly into the two fanatics, bowling them over as she vaulted off the horse, bringing the staff down on one man's head and leaving him to Solanne, and she was quick to walk over to the bound woman, not even raising her voice at all, reaching to get the bindings off quickly.

"Don't waste your breath, you'll need it to run. Let me get your bindings."

"Whatever you say boss."

Eyes slitting, Solanne twirled her blade and sliced the shoulder of one of the men, the one Niya had struck actually. Letting him bleed out, she spun around and hurled her sword into the chest of the other, stopping his heart forever.

"Well that was quick. Though these guys were supposed to be tough, ya know?" Solanne muttered, jumping off the horse and collecting her blade. "Still, I'm pretty sure kidnapping people is a gurantee to...well, whatever the opposite of Naga is."

Cleaning her blade in the grass, she turned to Niya and the captured woman, who by the appearance of her hat, looked like a Mage.

"Hey Niya, how's she holding up?"

As the sounds of bloodshed and warfare rang out all around her, Marianne couldn’t suppress a giggle from escaping her lips. Yes, this was a perfect time, a perfect opportunity to prove her loyalty and devotion to the Champion of Naga. Whipping out a dark tome, she jumped out of the cart and stayed back with the reserves.

“Whatever you say, my fearless leader, ahahaha!”

With that, she began to whip out spell after spell, curse after curse. Mainly, it was just Flux, though it was enough to keep their enemies from flanking them. In the midst of her fun, she kept her eye on Jacob before occasionally scanning the bodies of the fallen.

She’d have to collect and resupply her samples once this was all over.

Someone caught her gaze though, and she carefully made her way to them. When the image of a shaking Princess Caroline filled her view, her interest only piqued all the more. Smiling sweetly, she gently tugged on the Steel-Toed Princess’ sleeve.

“Ah, don’t worry your Highness! Ahaha, fearless leader knows what he’s doing, so rest assured! Besides, you’re my F.R.I.E.N.D now. And I’ll disembowel A.N.Y.O.N.E. that hurts my friends. Ahahaha!”

Jacob

They had begun to push cutting down the few that moved to attack them, a couple of axe wielding brigands and a mercenary. However a fresh wave of reinforcements arrive, eight more men moving to collide with his forces. Yet though it all he spotted another group, three women who seemed to struggling who seemed to be battling these fanatics themselves. The risk would be great crossing the field towards, he could sen Marius.... No he was needed here, grumbling he made his decision, he would go. He refuse to risk lives needlessly and he could speak with them and hopefully bring them back to the main group. "Nephene move up your taking my place up here. Marius keep the formation together and push up. I'm heading over to assist that group, they might need help. No heroics from any of you, sweep the field and stay together, I'll be back when I can."

With that he rushed forward, the lack of armor meant he could move at a decent pace. He let lose a couple of fire balls he slid just past an enemy mage, the mage roasted while Jacobs cloak did catch fire slightly it was quickly put out. He stopped near the swords-women drawing his blade. "Hey, figured you could use some help, I'm Jacob by way, Champion of Naga."

As he spoke enemy cavaliers circled them, hearing his statement. "Boys, look it's the little false Champion, The grand cleric will grant Sainthood to whoever slays him!" The four horse back riders sneered and advanced, they wanted there prize, then they would collect the women.

Back toward the main front Bandits and thieves moved in as Jacob passed though scavenging and hunting for easy kills and loot. They turned and looked the approaching Shepherds, there wagon was loaded with food and weapons, both he fanatics and scavengers rounded to faced them.

Caroline

She had gulped and pushed past the woman who had stopped her. "I am a healer and my brother is up there, I will be going with them. No matter what you say it's my duty to heal there wounds and keep them alive." As she stepped towards the fighting Marianne reassured her they would be safe and with a nod she stepped forward, keeping her staff and eye to the front, ready to heal her fellow Shepherds when they needed it.

Nephene reluctantly moved out of the way of the healer as Jacob yelled at her to replace him. She quickly charged forward to where Jacob had been replacing his role in the frontlines and grabbing a Javelin on her way there. "Well Missy if you want to help at least stand near somebody with a weapon eh?" she asked keeping one eye on the healer as she took her place next to Marius, "You lead and I'll follow." she said to the red armoured horseman who seemed to be appointed temporary leader of thier small formation, ready to help out in any way she could.

Marius tightened his grip around his spear, focusing his attention on the swordsman who was standing in front of him. While he had heard Jacob’s order, that he was in charge while Jacob was away, Marius thought it was not necessary for him to say anything. Marius did not want to give the enemy the advantage, which would have be present if the horseman had redirected his attention away from the battle towards giving a response to Jacob.

"You lead and I'll follow." Marius turned to see the young spearwoman take Jacob’s position beside him.

“Protect the flank and make sure no one gets past you.” Marius felt weird saying that, since usually it was the cavalry’s job at protecting the flanks of an army, using the mobility of horsemen to press their advantage over footbound soldiers.

Using the length advantage that the lance had over a regular sword, Marius tested the enemy swordsman, throwing thrusts here and there, keeping the warrior on the defensive and determining his stances. Finally, once the swordsman had let his guard down and made a mistake, Marius made the final move, thrusting his spear into the warrior.

“Who’s next?”

Abra was already in shock. Everything happened so quickly. One moment she was being carried away for god knows what. The next, two psychopaths happened to cross our path (although at the pace they were going, it did not look like an accident that we ran into one another). And one of Abra’s ‘rescuers’ just mutilated the two men, lopping off the shoulder of one of the soldiers and throwing (yes, throwing) her sword directly into the chest of the other one. A little overkill.

“You killed them.” Abra muttered, still shaken by the experience, seeing people act first, ask questions later. Once her bounds were cut and Abra could feel the ground underneath her feet, Abra tried to get a hold of herself. Even though her legs still felt weak from being in shock and her stomach turned from seeing the blood and gore, Abra attempted to keep it together.

"Hey Niya, how's she holding up?" Abra heard the swordswoman, who had used her own sword as a projectile against one of her captors.

“I’m doing fine.” Even though she tried to sound confident, her trembling voice and the green tint of her face betrayed her. While she really wanted to say it, should could bring herself to tell her ‘rescuers’ that they should have tried to save her using a strategy that did not have the possibility of herself becoming a fatality. Maybe she could not speak up because one of them dispatched her captors so easily and without any hesitation.

"Hey, figured you could use some help, I'm Jacob by way, Champion of Naga."

“Um…” Abra really did not know what to say when she saw the so-called ‘Champion of Naga’, or at least anything that would not offend him. “But you’re just a child. What are you doing in a place like this?”

Then four horsemen, obviously not friendly, encircled them. “How could this day get any worse?” Abra thought to herself. Maybe she should just push the so-called ‘Champion’ into the horsemen? No, that would not do much. They mounted soldiers already mentioned their interest in “collecting” the rest of them after they killed the young boy called Jacob. Maybe that swordswoman, who seemed to be called Solanne (or at least her mounted companion called her that), would go all berserk and kill them like the scouts that had captured Abra. All Abra knew was something had to happen.