[b]Alhvaharyis -- Cease Fire[/b]

Alhvaharyis was bleeding. He registered this, but only in a very distant fashion. He was bleeding. In all his years, his plans of vengeance, his desire for justice, this was the first time he had bled... and he was going to die. Oddly, he felt no fear. It was as if this were happening to another individual, and he were but a spectator of his own demise. He heard his master's words again, but, curiously, of all the lessons and words of wisdom he'd been imparted, the memory that surfaced was one of a damp summer afternoon. It was incredibly humid, and they were in the garden, sitting cross-legged on the grass. Alhvaharyis was watching a preying mantis devour a butterfly under the shadow of a bush. 

"The strong prey on the weak, and the weak succumb," his master had said. "The weak, however, are doubly weak when they lose the will to fight. Remember this, Alhvaharyis. Never lose the will to fight."

At the time Alhvaharyis had simply nodded, confident in the fact his passion, unquestionably just, could never falter. But now...

A flame stirred within Alhvaharyis. Like a roaring inferno, it consumed everything inside him with voracious hunger. Was this how he was going to die? Like a sheep, too terrorized to do anything but await his slaughter? 

No. 

An inhuman snarl rising from his throat, Alhvaharyis curved his hand. Within the guard he implanted a powerful desire to simply stop living, equal to his own newfound desire to keep on living.

At the same time, Lothar grunted from the blunt impact of the arrow. There was no sharp, cutting pain, which was a good sign. Still, that arrow would probably leave a nice bruise. Regardless, Lothar counted his blessing as the arrow could have made his day quite miserable. He looked at Alhvaharyis because of the fact that some primal noise was coming from him, but then remembered that they were in the midst of a fight. Lothar returned his attention to the guard who shot him. He drew his sword with his dominant, right hand and quickly charged at the bowman, hoping to engage the bastard in close combat.

[i]With such a magical compulsion assaulting the enemy with the bowman, he had little chance of resisting as the knife inches closer to the archer's own throat before slitting it. Alhvaharyis sags with exhaustion as a great deal of his innate magic well is drained with the single spell. Much more and he would be drawing far too deep and potentially risking his life. He chuckled, a twisted smile on his face, staring into nothingness. Meanwhile, Lothar, charging the Papacy Mercenary with the bow, he slips inside his defense and strikes fast and true, managing to sever the archer's hand as his sword slices through the bow he uselessly tried to block with. The archer reels back with a terrified scream, clutching at his hand as he goes into shock. Whether Lothar decided to end it for him immediately or let the bleeding take its toll, it mattered not. He would meet his fate regardless.[/i]

Lothar stepped forward, following the guard. He reached with his hand and forecefully grabbed the archer's non-injured arm in an attempt to once again dig through his mind to see if he could find out anything that the mercenary would know.

[i]As Lothar attempts to rummage through the mind of the mercenary, searing pain assaults his thoughts accompanied with flashes of terror and an image of himself, blood smattered on his armour. Lothar recoils back suddenly, gaining nothing from him. There was nothing on his mind but fear for his life.[/i]

Alhvaharyis stepped forward and tried to slit the guard's throat with his dagger. 

[i]Alhvaharyis misses with the dagger as the guard stumbles back, clutching his wrist, screaming and pleading for mercy.[/i]

Snarling, Alhvaharyis bent down and tried to stab the guard in the chest repeatedly. "Will you at least die properly, you Papacy scum?!" he exclaimed. The man continues to scream and attempt to break away, still managing to scream away. As he manages to slip out of Alhvaharyis' grip, he promptly expires with a solid thump to the ground. Alhvaharyis kicked the corpse. 

"We should go. I hear more fighting." 

As Alhavharyis was dealing with the dying guard, Lothar returned his attention to the window where the third man had tried to jump out the window to safety. Apparently, he had been able to find his grip, and pull himself to safety as Lothar could see him scurrying away to the archer's nest. Lothar muttered "Damn it." 

[i]Even as he spoke, Lothar would witness a Templar lunge forward to attack the mercenary. The Mercenary raises a shield to block the attack, only managing to catch the weapon and leave the two grappling for control of the fight. The two continue to struggle, but apparently the Templar was unaware of the ledge behind them. With a crack, the wood splinters behind the mercenary and they both go tumbling to their death. With the two large warriors out of his line of sight, he would be able to spy the archer's nest now clear of any living soul, the dead of both Templar and Rheinfeld Republic soldiers scattered over the nest.[/i]

"Lothar," Alhvaharyis repeated. "We must go help our allies."

Lothar nodded and said "Let us regroup with the rest." as he began to walk towards the exit with his sword ready in his hand. 

Alhvaharyis followed behind carefully, knife ready, mustering his energy in the event of another spell being required.