Ana herself takes up a short sword, her calloused fingers gripping the hilt in a familiar fashion. She stays close to Lauralana, though her experiance has told her to ensure the elf woman has room to manuever as well.<br/><br/>The elf straightens her spine, her eyes narrowing as the fortifications came into view. "I will depend on your swords to keep the ..riff raff off me my friend." This is said to Garreth, and as much as any elf can show fondness for those not their kind, her eyes do soften slightly before she turns back.<br/><br/>Once the boat drew near, a flood of orcs and a few ogres crashed through the foilage, wielding axes and hammers, screaming in their gutteral tones. A few of the attendants parry blows, one ogre taking a mighty swing at the prince, Lauralana does not spare these her attentions, confident in Garreth and even Tristan to take care of these first front runners.<br/><br/>No her green eyes search, using more then just her vision to seek out that which is not natural to Nayearth, that which is an abomination to the gods that had created the world that she lives.