Bianka head the odd, accented cry above the din of clangs and slams,  being fiercely outworked in her footing by a man with a dominating beard. The village girl had little sway against him,  his axe slamming into her chain covered arm and makig her gasp as a few links broke and her flesh bruised,  the wicked edge making her red blood stain her white tabard in crimson.<br/><br/>Quickly and desperately she kicked the man in the chest after feinting a sword blow before running towards thebcry with the norsemam on her heels.  Her claymore slammed down into the helmet of the man harrying Maxim,  making him stumble and curse and spit hp some blood. " Quick. Get up! Whoever you are. "<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>