The bright light nearly blinded Alison. She quickly looked away, but kept her attention on the Ogre. As it began to try and stand, she slammed an elbow onto its neck, forcing it back down. Good timing, as Fenna's arrow streaked out not but a moment later, piercing it in the same place Alison had stabbed the previous ogre. The foul beast collapsed in a heap, and Alison breathed a quick sigh. She was about to spare a moment, figure out why Fenna had suddenly glowed like a stadium flood light, when the bridge rumbled under foot.

She looked back at Fenna for a moment, wondering what on earth the reason was for all that. The explosion of energy, the tossing of the spear. 

Looking back at the enemy line, her tired eyes narrowed in frustration. Again, a part of her mind desperately wished for the modern assets of her previous life. 

The enemy forces still marched forward, only slightly abated by the sudden release from Fenna. Her eyes darted from enemy to enemy, target to target. Her brain raced to determine which to prioritize, her mind turning over the overall tactical situation, desperately seeking a weakness to exploit. 

[i]There![/i]

A knight, twisted by evil sorcery, had briefly stepped out of line as they advanced towards the party. The corpses on the bridge made it difficult for anyone to maintain formation, and as the knight stumbled only slightly, Alison dashed over the ogre corpse straight towards him. The knight quickly righted himself as Alison slammed into him with her full weight, tumbling both to the ground. Rolling off him quickly and crouching over his head, she grabbed the bottom of his helmet and forced his head back, raising the chin and exposing the neck. She drove the dagger into the gap between the helmet and the chest, the first stab nearly crushing the chainmail through the blow, the second finding enough of a break that the tip drove into the twisted man's throat. Even with the enhancements, the throat proved to be a reliable target. 

A warning whispered in her ear as she immediately dove to the left, the deathly whistle of a longsword swinging right through the space she had previously occupied. She kicked up with her legs as the second blow came, the sole of her boot catching the pomel of the sword swing, buying precious seconds as she grabbed a flare off her belt and fired it point blank into the second knight's head. The bright light and searing hot flare forced the knight to stumble back, grabbing at the projectile as it burned mercilessly into his face. 

Taking the opportunity, she grabbed the arm that held the longsword. She could feel the gross, bulging Source-enhanced muscles under the chainmail and plate, the crackle of the enchanted longsword still but a few feet from her. However, the distraction caught the knight well off guard, and she twisted the arm around, quickly forcing the blade from his hand. She let go, caught the blade, and swung it around like a bat, slamming the flat part against his head as black and white lightning arced into the knight, his acursed enchantments frying him in his armor. 

Heaving heavy from exhaustion, she threw the blade haphazardly at a third knight charging to force him to parry, before sprinting back to the party line, seeing Barracker in his duels with an ogre and a knight. Groaning loudly with frustration, she forced herself into a sprint, wishing she hadn't just tossed that sword. With little choice but to expend another charge, she slid low and punched the piledriver into the knee of the knight, hardened steel stake shooting forward and punching through armor, then flesh, then bone, the tendons severing and forcing the hellish brute to one knee. 

But in her rushed attack, she had failed to account for what that thick muscle would do. As she went to withdraw the weapon, she found it stuck in the thick joint and armor of the enemy. The knight turned on her, reading a mighty elbow to bring down on her. 

Alison saw her mistake come barreling down towards her head.

[hr]

Kerensa swore as she watched the breach open, sprinting down the battlements. The nearby Thieves Guild members rushed in to desperately try to plug the gap, but this one proved too much for the patrol, soon themselves overwhelmed and torn to shreds by the incoming horde of undead. Kerensa gritted her teeth, tasting blood in her mouth as she bit her cheek in anger. 

She fell in line with some of the other squads rushing forward. A Lion had just fallen on two skeletons, when one suddenly struck out its shattered for arm like a spear, stabbing the man's leg and forcing him to the ground. Just as it grabbed his chest and yanked him down to finish the job, Kerensa's curved blade flicked out, cleaning and severing the jagged arm, then the head, bisecting the head, truly ending the beast. She propped the man up, grabbed a shortsword from a fallen soldier and a spear from another, handed it to the Lion, and nodded. He may not be able to stand properly right now, but he could fight. He returned the nod with a pained, but arrogant grin as he rose to his feet, using the spear as a brace, and limped forward to aid his comrades till he could fight no more. 

They were a foolhardy bunch, Kerensa surmised, but brave as the animal for their name. She moved forward again, curved blade glinting menacingly from beneath her cloak as she stalked towards the breach. Here she saw now the Lions and another squad, shields locked and bodies standing firm.

Step, swing, shove, repeat. The formation was well-disciplined, if exhausted like everyone else. Swords came down, shields shoved forward, and a step was taken, slowly but surely driving the undead back. The Lions, badly diminished as the ones who had to fight ferociously to hold off the initial tide, fell in line with their allies, spears and swords stabbing forward between friends' shields. 

They all knew what was at stake. Behind them, for many, were their families, their homes, and their lives. And for many more, that was in front of them, all ravaged by the damned army they now held back. With a fearsome smile, Kerensa stepped toward the line and walked along it, just behind the men. A spear of an undead would pry its way through the shields, only to be cut to pieces in a flash. A skeleton would rise to enact vengeance, only for its head to go sailing. 

The men, focused on the enemy ahead, could only feel the presence of a friendly ghost, gracefully weaving between them and protecting them from the enemies just out of their focus. 

Slowly, but surely, they worked together and began the fight to push them back. 

[@Saiyan][@Jay009]