Frankie
Tharn Skorn
Burgh

Flail in hand, Tharn ripped across the battlefield like an animal. Anyone that stood in his way was thrown aside, adrenaline allowing him to toss men into the air like rag dolls. He did not, however, waste any time on actually engaging them. Instead, it was mostly evasive or, at most, defense to incapacitate just long enough for him to advance forward. He had eyes only for one man.

He seemed to pick up speed with every blow, roaring mightily as he ran faster and faster, barreling towards John like a freight train. And with a sea of men in his wake, getting a good shot at him, particularly in all the confusion, was virtually impossible. 

Now more like a lion than a wolf, Tharn leapt past the plunging, frightened Solymr. The crazed man sent both John's mount and the other horses into even more of a fuss, and horses reared and plunged around both him and John, hooves coming dangerously close to making contact with their bodies. 

In mere moments after John's fall, Tharn pounced, swinging the flail with an absolutely inhuman amount of force. He was, however, somewhat unskilled with it, and in the confusion and in John's haste away from him, the flail came down in a glancing blow, rather than making direct contact. Nevertheless, it certainly did damage, the spikes slicing down the left side of John's face, ripping open tender flesh and plunging into his eye.

The scream that followed filled Tharn with renewed energy, and he advanced again, blows raining down mercilessly. He was unaware of anything else going on around him now. There was no one else to worry about. No one else to consider. No one else to fight. He knew he would die here, but it would be worth it if he could take John with him, and in doing so, free Northwind.

And then... The blade plunged into his back. He roared, lurching forward, agonizing pain ripping through his body. The blow knocked him forward on top of John, pinning the old man to the ground beneath someone who was at least three times his size. 

Tharn struggled, gasping and fighting, blood pouring into his lungs. Not much time left...

With shaking hands and a face that was quickly draining in color, Tharn's hands snaked forward, grappling at John's neck. He could break it...
Carol
Levi Cortez
Northwind

Levi's dagger found its mark. He watched as Tharn savagely ripped John's face open, and falling on him as Levi's dagger buried itself in his back. Levi ran forward, crossing the distance between them as fast as he could. 

"D... Die." Tharn muttered, reaching his hands forward around John's neck. Levi's face twitched, before kicking Tharn over. 

"Look. At. Me." Levi said, as Tharn started breathing his last breaths. Levi took the flail Tharn had dropped, and looked down at Tharn. 

"This is better than you deserve." Levi said, before bringing the flail downwards. He swung again, again, and again, blood splattering left and right. One final swing cracked Tharn's skull, and Levi fell to his knees over the body.

"Roryk, wherever you are, this was for you." He said softly, before looking over at John. 

"Oh fuck." He said, standing up and walking over. 

"You alive, old man?" Levi asked, checking his pulse.
John
Cornelius
The Sun Gate

He nodded to the guardsman who he honestly felt bad for, having been very cold since coming up here. He wondered for a moment why the *He assumed* Younger brother would request him instead of the sister, but he was in no place to question it given his lack of employment at this period in time. While he was here, however, he would do as best he could to learn about the people he'd be engaging with.

"Would it be rude of me to ask about Lord Cyril and Lady Elaine? I was hoping that I might get some inkling of information before I meet them in person. You said Lady Elaine runs this garrison? Do you have an idea as to why Lord Cyril might request me to be here?"

He didn't have an understanding of the House de Lysse and was eager to learn what he could in the short span of time he had before he met whoever may be his future employer.