((This is Tyr dreaming. One note, I decided to work in a surprise for the first person to talk to Carnassus in the morning.))<br/><br/>((WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF A MEDIEVAL BATTLE SCENE. IF YOU'RE NORMALLY QUESY OR HAVE JUST EATEN, DON'T READ.))<br/><br/>The moon above shining bright so the world below cast in light to see the violence that befell the town. Wounded screaming, the dying unable to cry out. The Riders were fighting a losing battle; there was none who could match the skill of the Lycans as the tore through their ranks. More so, they were cavalry forced to fight on foot as the horses had fled.<br/><br/>Through all the commotion of the first real pulse of the battle, Martlin stood fearfully in the camp trying to assemble some defense as he forced a group of Lycans to rout back to their main group. He called out but his men were either cowering or fighting farther down the line and could not hear his cries for help over the sound of their hearts beating in their ears. There was a break in the conflict where Martlin was, he turned to join the majority of his men but was only just in time to see the Lycans crash through the formation. Decimated, the Riders retreated with no leader to call them back to the line.<br/><br/>In the chaos, Martlin bent down for only a moment and forced his sword to the ground. He recited a prayer on the blade, taking his time as he found it difficult to remember over the moans of the wounded who still hadn't bled out. A lycan spotted Martlin, and rushed over toward the knight with his sword flying through the air. He was just a few steps from killing Martlin when the knight sprang up and lopped off the lycan's head.