[color=8dc73f][b]Annabelle Goldsmith[/b][/color]

"HOLD!"

Those creatures crashed into their shield wall again, as they desperately stabbed at the things from behind their shields. 

The gatehouse, a small one leading into one of the inner partitions of the walls, was relatively out of the way and obscure, but still many of those monsters chanced upon it, whether lured by fleeing refuges or attracted to the sound of fighting. With some unfortunates still trying trickling in from hot zones in the city, and the local soldiers guarding the gate thinning in numbers, her group had decided to stay and fight, keeping the gate open and defended for as long as they could. 

Annabelle and those without large shields stood behind the shieldwall, taking down any that made it through. 

Even if they were killing a lot of the creatures, it was not without heavy losses on their side. The soldiers was tired, and the group of mercenaries, though motivated and relentless, were not true warriors by any stretch of the word. They were widowers, old men who lost their families, or maybe even just a teacher who watched her entire class ripped apart by those creatures. They were all men and women who lost something to the monsters; a ragtag band of normal people who had nothing left to live for, and more than enough reason to fight. 

Once again, she was helpless to prevent their slaughter as the sheer number of those monsters overwhelmed them.

She did not stop fighting however; the gatehouse was still standing, and she was still alive. It was not altruism, or some sort of belief that she must keep them from entering the inner parts of the city, or even any sort of honor that kept her fighting there. There was no fool that dared hold a gatehouse against such numbers alone after all. 

Annabelle stayed there and fought, because she had to.

It would be a disgrace to the fallen if she was to simply give up and run. It would also be futile to try and run, especially when she was alone. Any single one of those monsters could cut her down before she could turn and run. As long as one of them was still standing, their mission would be done. Was that not the motto of their mercenary group? Then, for as long as she still lived, not one of those monsters would pass.

[i]The May rain falls, and is it my tears or the mist that surround me?[/i]

Her breathing was growing ragged, as she retreated slowly towards the gatehouse, seeking a narrower space to fight in. Her cheap armor was already broken, having taken numerous strikes meant for her. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep swinging her arms. Monster after monster lunged at her, trying to find an opening, but each time she beat them back, until finally her sword broke. Almost instantaneously, the monsters that sensed she was helpless charged as one at her.

[i]Hototogisu, take my name and soar above the clouds.[/i]

She blinked.

No longer was she on the stone path, no longer was the gatehouse, no longer was the monsters. Instead, she was in a burning castle, wooden floor strewn with Japanese swords, each one unique. Where the monsters were, there was now soldiers, grim faced men wielding ancient weapons. There was a moment of hesitation, before she grabbed one of the swords. A fight was a fight after all, especially if her life was in danger.

[i]"Take my name brave one. Show them the strength of a human's will."[/i]

With a scream, she dashed towards her enemy, as the vision of the burning castle disappeared. The katana she held however, did not disappear, but instead seemed to grow more solid. Her grip on the sword switched, as knowledge from a long gone hero flooded into her mind. Changing her movements, she sliced across one of the monsters, sending it reeling back with a large gash across its body. 

There was no time for her to be amazed, no time to wonder about the Japanese armor that now enclosed her form, or a long gone hero's memories pouring inside her.

With sword in hand, she started swinging again with more vigor.