The slith were nothing if not persistent. The three who had caught up to them hesitated just past the doorway, rose a few inches taller upon their snakelike appendages and parted their toothy maws with a shrill hiss to try and intimidate the mercenary. Onora in response spat upon the ground in front of them and this seemed to conclude the brief squaring amongst the opposing sides as the beasts charged. They were not wise enough to attack all at once and this gave the warrior a chance to hack at each opponent individually, which resulted in a partially severed head and two cases of disemboweling, but more were already coming. The grueling stand continued as more slithering shapes found their way into the room and began to circle around the woman.<br/><br/>The floor was steadily growing slick with blood that was pooling around her. When the next creature sprang at her from the side, those stubby nubs that served for arms raised and teeth bared, the swordswoman pivoted to parry and felt her foot slip on the crimson puddle. Her heart lurched in a sudden moment of panic and within an instant she found herself on her back, doing all that she could to keep the blond<i>thing</i>away from her neck by pushing back against the creature that wanted nothing more then to tear into her throat and rip at it. The struggle continued for a while longer, but it was becoming obvious that Onora was fighting a losing battle as more creatures slithered in, taking advantage of the situation to try and get their own chance at a swipe. Her arms were straining against the monster with whatever fighting spirit she had left, spurred by the simple desire to continue living, but her strength was waning quickly and more slith inched ever closer.<br/><br/>When the woman felt her muscles fail and despair set it something strange happened. It felt like a warm breeze that wafted by her, originating from the hole that Medaurus crawled through and expanding ever outwards. No sooner had it passed by her chin then the monster which was so intent on partaking in her flesh gave a piercing scream, slid backwards, and caught on fire. Whatever beasts had already entered the rooms surrounding the sanctuary followed the same fate and for the next few minutes the air was lit up with moving, writing shapes. After everything was quite still, and no more reinforcements could be seen or heard coming.<br/><br/>The mercenary would have looked was rather surprised as she pulled herself to her feet wearily, one side completely covered in blood that was not her own and her grey eyes wide with relief at the stroke of luck that had saved her life just in time.<i>Luck.</i>The woman’s fingers compulsively closed around a ring that was suspended from a thin, black cord around her neck.<br/><br/>A shaky snort by way of a reply is all that the mage would receive for his generous raise before the man collapsed upon the dried grass and fell into a deep, undisturbed slumber. No matter how exhausted the mercenary might have felt, she was amazed at the ease with which the Skinwalker now dozed, not at all bothered by their location or the host of enemies just past the newly erected barrier.<br/><br/>While Medaurus slept without a care in the world the woman could not rest until she scoured out every inch of the sanctuary. She took this time to meticulously examine their setting and ensure that their fortification was adequate and made certain that they would not be beset by some horrifying beast while they were at their most vulnerable. They were in a spacious garden of some sort with white walls lining the far edges of the square enclosure and a high glass ceiling that protected them from the elements but allowed natural light to flood in. Off to one side there was a small but picturesque waterfall that collected into a pool of fresh, drinkable water and exited the garden in another location by disappearing into a grate beneath one of the walls. Before Onora made her own entrance by bashing a hole in the wall, there had only been one entry in the form of a tall and majestic archway that ended a long hallway that was decorated with pillars on both sides. Where it led to the mercenary was not curious enough to explore just then and for now it would remain a mystery.<br/><br/>Once she was positive that they were secure in this sanctuary the woman did whatever she could to make herself comfortable. Blood and gore was washed from her skin, hair and clothes and her blade was cleaned and sharpened. The wound on the mage’s shoulder was also cleaned and rebandaged while he rested since the sellsword figured if she had any hope of seeing that jade figurine and a mountain of gold it was supposed to fetch her, she had best keep her employer alive long enough to hand it over. His head was propped up onto her folded leather tunic, although the reason for that gesture would be a little harder to explain.<br/><br/>After all tasks had been tended to, the woman decided it was time to seek some rest herself. Dressed only in a simple linen undershirt and soft leather pants she settled with her back against the wall and left her sword unsheathed and stretched across her lap. Only then did she trust her heavy eyelids to fall closed and a light sleep to claim her.