[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/NBbzOTC.png[/img][/center] [indent][indent]Ashür's sunken gaze is inscrutable, the man only offers the barest few seconds of it lingering upon the still corpse of their comrade as Lyun hefts the equally stout mercenary into his arms, replacing the young woman. The dour man instead turns his sight upon the bodies choking the grassy fields between farmsteads. He turns a few over with his boot, brigands and the like, but so too men bearing the insignia of Ur. The gears turn in his head. . . [i]Who is this woman?[/i] That is the principle thought on his mind.

Ashür turns to her, or where she should have been left by their Kassite brother in arms. Phased by her sudden vanishing, he whips his head about, only to fall on her traipsing across the blood soaked land. He pursues. But only so far until she drops to her knees.[/indent][/indent]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hnGGtlJ.png[/img][/center] [indent][indent][b]IA:[/b] "Akmaan. . . Gao-Lubaan. . . How could I have let this happen?"

The firey haired Kassite rolls her most ardent guards onto their backs, frantically holding pressure against the flow of their wounds a *knowing* in the back of her throat. "Please. . . Please!" She cried to little avail, casting the embers of her eyes to the Hellions, "One of you filthy sellswords are a shaman aren't you?! Save them. . ! Please. . ."[/indent][/indent]