[b]First Blow - Erasmus[/b] --- When he smashed his shield into the ghoul’s face he heard the satisfactory sound of metal crunching bone and flesh, it made for a disturbingly squishy noise with the state of decay but it was nonetheless the sound of achievement. When the beast fell back, a large clump of blood followed it, some hanging grimly off the front face of his shield, something he’d have to clean later. The fallen ghoul was dispatched with a brutal cut that ended the feral movements of the fallen soldier. The decapitated head rolled off, the face caught in a feral snarl that could almost be seen as hypnotizing; the ferocity of the undead existed if when they were killed … again. He spun to face the remaining zombies in time to see one of Alexander’s shot thud into the damaged head of Thalien’s opponent sending blood, brain and bone is a gruesome arc. He smirked slightly as he noticed the fact it’d covered Thailen who proceeded to wipe it off with a disgusted look upon her face. The other three undead lay down as a shriek cut through the air; this was a worrying sight as undead never backed down unless they were ordered to. It made no sense for the lich to want to try and lead them into a trap; the only question was whether they’d find an alive Wren or an undead one. Looking down he saw his own gore-covered blade and grimaced; he turned back to the corpse tried wiping the mess onto the uniform of his slain opponent without much success. What had once belonged to the zombie had no intention of returning; they clung desperately to his blade like a parasite clings to its host. After a few wipe that acheieved naught more than smearing it further up the blade he gave up with an exasperated click of his tongue and turned to face the rest of his group. He’d now have to carry his blade until he got it clean again; if he sheathed it all the body matter would wipe off inside the sheath and rust the blade out. He’d learned this the hard way in his first year as a crusader; having your blade snapped in half during combat was not a desirable thing. After he finished wiping his blade he noticed the Liverian crest adorning the tattered uniform of the undead he’d slain, when he looked across the other four corpses revealed a similar story. The state of the decay was what concerned Erasmus, they seemed to have decayed too much for how soon their deaths had been, unless Wren’s troop had been in this blasted land for longer than Erasmus had been lead to believe. Thalien spoke about leaving the undead and moving on to reach Wren, they had to try and reach her before she was overwhelmed by the undead yet Erasmus loathed to leave a creature behind him, capable of surrounding them when they reached Wren. The thought that another blade would lend a great asset to their group overwhelmed the need for a reliable escape path; they could always cut their way through. “Aye, we can’t afford to tarry much longer without risking the life of Wren and whoever she has left alive; her blade and knowledge of the area will be crucial to slaying this lich. Whoever takes rearguard keep a close eye on these though, we don’t need to be ambushed while we’re not ready. Also if anyone sees that damn gecko around, can you kill the bloody thing it’s been around far too much for my liking” Erasmus commented grimly; his nerves now on edge over the whole theatrical appearance of their mission so far. There had been far too much knife-in-the-dark and hidden plans for his liking; this lich appeared to be both powerful and cunning, a mix most foul when facing a master of the necromantic arts. He set off after Thalien, being very careful to keep a modicum of distance between himself and the undead, catching up to her with a few powerful strides before settling into a rhythmic pace. He found himself sending an idle prayer to his mysterious deity; some being that had existed within the Wells of power and had reached out to him during his ‘experience’. His fingers ran over the smooth, silver well engraved into the pommel of his sword; it gleamed unnaturally bright in the land although this was due to the highly polished nature of the metal, not any magical property. He readied his sword and lifted his shield as they got close to the crest of the hill, ready for a battle on the other side.