All too late, Kestrel had heard the creaking of floorboards. She instead, was completely focused on the bloody carnage outside, a dark cavalryman rode through the streets, wreaking havoc on the unfortunate Eastborne soldiers. Turning to look back inside the ruined house, she was greeted by an almost ethereal white-robed figure, his hands moving in intricate patterns as foreign and unnatural words spilled from his lips. Stunned, she could only stare at this strange man. Chanting filled Kestrel’s ears and her vision swam before her, almost as if she was trying to look at the mage through a wall of water. His hands began to move more rapidly, before finishing the movements with a flourish in her direction and releasing a flash of stark white light that left Kestrel momentarily blinded.<br/><br/>“Oh fuck me-“ was all she managed to groan, before six luminescent arcane rings launched towards her, restraining her form as she hit the floorboards with a heavy thud. Kestrel felt spears of pain shoot up her injured arm as it slammed against the rough wood, splinters digging their way into the fresh wound with the promise of infection and blood poisoning. Attempting to ignore the pain, she struggled against the restraints, feeling the cold metal biting into her skin as she flexed and shifted, but failing to find even a hint of give in the magical rings.<br/><br/><i>Fucking mages. Fucking hell. Shit. Fuck.</i><br/><br/>Kestrel watched as the mage dropped his hands and ceased his muttering, his thin lips drawing into a slight grimace. Cold, grey eyes locked with hers. Outside she could still hear the sounds of battle continuing, could hear a horn shrieking in the distance and the battle cries of who she could only guess was the large half-orc she had seen earlier. The mage was approaching slowly, hand reaching inside his star-embellished robes. He knelt carefully beside her, methodically checking each of the metal loops while Kestrel continued to growl and hurl obscenities.<br/><br/>“First choking, now you’re tying me up.” Kestrel chuckled humorlessly, spitting some blood onto the pristine white robes, “You sure are a kinky lot aren’t ya?” Kestrel watched as the blood seemed to slide off the robe, leaving not a single stain on its surface and her face twisted into a dissatisfied snarl, fangs bared. The mage regarded the empty show of aggression with disinterest and rose from his knees, staring down at the broken form beneath him.<br/><br/>“All shall fall to their knees before our great God Merasheel,” the mage stated impassively, face expressionless as he drew the dagger above his head.<br/><br/>The last thing Kestrel felt was a jolt of pain flash behind her eyes as the jewelled pommel of the wizard’s dagger collided with her skull in a sickening crack.