As the women gathered in the tent, the panic riddled elf showed no attempt in trying to calm herself, her eyes widened from sights she no doubt wish she saw, stricken with fear, fear for her life and the knowledge of knowing her inability to defend herself. She had to rely on these women...<br/><br/><span style="color: seagreen">“We have to go to Greenvale!! It might be safe, I don't know! But any place is safer than here! Please! Lets go already!” </span>She spat her words at them so quickly that the words themselves were tangled, repeated over and over as she tried to help each one of them with their clothing. The sooner they got out of here, the better!<br/><br/>Atashi would only see chaos beyond the tent, no promising paths of safety other than the gauntlet of flourishing blades and the death throes of dying men echoing throughout the night, one scream becoming more clearer as the others, bringing with it a splatter of crimson that stains her cheek.<br/><br/>–<br/><br/>With the deaths of the two giant men, brought by Aure and Lyle, the bandits morale and numbers began to break on the front lines. As the desperate cries of retreat were met with no answer, the fickle discipline that Argin's men had enforced so much into his army, crumbled to the realisation of their chance to flee. The roaring of opportunistic men hightened as more and more bandits peeled off the main horde and scattered throughout Greenvale and into the darkness, some were met by farmers steel, but it did little to keep the surviving bandits from fleeing. There was no honour amongst them as they abandoned their injured and dead to the villagers of Greenvale.<br/><br/>As the bandit horde began to dissipate into the veil of night, farmers alike raised their makeshift weapons and roared their victory out to the heavens. The Maker himself would have heard this day, along with the risen blades of Knight Captain Jaeron and Ser Katherine Anholde, and it was all the inspiration and resolve they all needed to gather their courage for the final command<span style="color: darkorange">“Hunt them down like animals! Rid them from our home!”</span><br/><br/>–<br/><br/>Argin laughed almost manicially as his blade finally drank in the blood of his prey, the cry of pain fuelling his sadistic pleasure for just grazing the man and watching a man of his build scurry from his following blow. The thought of embracing the void in his mind once more occurred to him as he looked down at his barbarian foe, but the blood fury coursed through him, and the pleasure was too great.. he needed to taste more...<br/><br/>The flourishing waves of his blade showed no relenting as each swing demanded more flesh from Cruran, his footing becoming outstretched at times to chance the attempt on injuring him, confidence brewed up within him.<span style="color: blue"><i> This is a dance I'm all too familiar with... </i></span>He thought to himself, the large grin making it too obvious.<br/><br/>“Get out of the way!” “Flee for your lives!” “All is lost!” “Screw Argin!”<br/><br/>His mind was suddenly filled with the cries of his men, as much as he tried to keep his focus, the man bellowed a menacing growl as he took his gaze off the barbarian to take that chance to observe his surroundings, and it was one that he surely began to regret.<br/><br/>The men no doubt kept their distance from the two titans, running around them to avoid any attempt of being dragged into another fight, or to be the victim of the blade that Argin had wielded. His men... were retreating... fleeing...<br/><br/><i><span style="color: blue">No.. this cannot be... The.. COWARDS!</span></i><br/><br/>His hands gripped tightly to the hilt of his blade, feeling the wrapped leather against rough flesh before turning towards his prey once more, lifting his blade for the inevitable final stand “If I am to die, you will die with me!”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>