[I]Southern Hammerfell Coast, Harding’s Shipwreck…[/I]

“C’mon you bastards! Push them back!” Harding bellowed, having made it to the beach from the wreck. She joined her handful of mages and Hralvar as they advanced on the scorpion horde, flames emitting from every palm. The flame walls were enough to cover much of the beach, but there were still wide gaps in which the creatures were able to advance. It was here the fighters and archers took their stand, Marassa driving her blade through the thorax of one of the scorpions as it tried to pounce upon one of the crew members. The man looked at her with a mix of relief and fear as he muttered his gratitude before finding his footing and joining the fight once more. While Marassa didn’t doubt there was an end to the onslaught of arachnids, she didn’t see one. It was a question of whether or not her and the others would tire before the creatures were driven back or killed. Her attention was diverted momentarily by Cub’s shouting and the khajiit had to blink.

The orc was attempting to ride one of the scorpions. Whatever he was trying to accomplish was likely to get himself killed. 

A flicker of movement caught her attention and she moved her blade up to block, the edge of the Skyforge steel digging deep into the sting of the scorpion that had tried to impale her with its deadly toxins. Twisting the blade the rest of the way through, she angled the blade down across her body and drove it into the creature’s head, forcing the black-bodied creature to still instantly. 

In the distance, behind the main host of the scorpions came the sight of two more men fighting the creatures. Whether or not they were there by choice or were pulled in by the bad fortune trying to approach the wreck, they were not in a good position. With her night eye, Marassa saw the crumpled, prone form of a man on the ground next to his companions, one of whom appeared to be a mage, an altmer. “There’s someone else out there!” she called.

“And what in Oblivion are we supposed to do about that? We’re losing our own men!” Another voice called back. A scorpion near Marassa died as an arrow lodged between its eyes, another soon following suit. She cursed before yelling out to the strangers. “If you can make it, try to reach us!” the khajiit pressed forward, a few of the crew alongside her as they brought the fight to the scorpions. To the left, the smell of burning carcass began to fill the air as the mages were enjoying their own respite from the fighting.

Marassa soon realized that she was outpacing the pirates beside her. “Cub, Hralvar! Give me a hand here!” she yelled, casting stoneflesh upon herself to protect her exposed flesh.