[center][i]Jerod[/i][/center]

Jerod had been using as much showmanship with his sword and brazen yelling as he had doing real damage to keep the damn fanatics at bay. Meanwhile all the talking and fighting in the backranks showed that, not surprisingly, one man and a wounded horseman were not good line holding material in an open plain like this. Jerod would be having words with the lad after this, probably on better ways to imply to some that STAY PUT was as valid a way of telling someone to hold the line as anything else. The chatter on tactics and plans got a grunt from the mercenary, as he looked towards the best path to do just that, responding to the orders from the horseman.

[b]"Aye, y' got it 'orseman. Alright, y' gits, le's get t'is movin', sooner we git t'ere..."[/b]

Jerod never finished that sentenace the way he intended, a whistling arrow embedding itself firmly in his right shoulder, causing him to step backwards, or risk being toppled by the force of the arrow stopping in his shoulder. The mercenary looked at the arrow, and offending archer who was in their way anyways, as several more soldiers poured over to try and stop their suspected advance. Jerod knew better than to break the arrow off, which would not be easy anyways as arrows are built to not break like that, or rip it out, barbs might make that problematic. Best bet would be pushing it through, if the scale he was wearing would not have prevented that on the other side. No, it would wait to come out, and with all this thought in a split second, he glared at the offending enemies and started charging towards Jacob and his newfound harem, roaring in rage again at the first known wound to the group, his cloak and armor helping hide the second. Nothing intelligeable or even worded this time, just one constant roar of rage and hate carrying the wounded but unshaken mercenary into their ranks, the ones separating Jerod and company from Jacob and company, trusting the horseman to do his damn job.

Jerod punched through the, albeit far thinner, ranks and cut the archer's bow clean in two, leaving a rather nasty wound from shoulder to hip across the man as well as he collapsed to the ground. Turning to his left, he fought the two on that side as he left the right flank to Marius, as was the plan. A straight kick sent the axe wielding warrior stumbling to the ground, out of wind, and he left that for the crazy dark mage girl to deal with. He locked blades with the other soldier, before twisting and headbutting the man, shattering his nose and followed up with a clean cut that left his throat open to the bone. A fatal injury, indeed, and he turned to aid Marius if he needed it before leading the group to Jacob, a grin on his face despite the injuries he had sustained, and once he saw Niya tending to the wounded woman he began laughing.

[b]"Lad, w'ere in th' 'ell did ye dig yer up from? An' th' Crimson 'ound no less a' well, yer reputation precedes ye' lass! An' th' rest o' yer grand army, reportin' fer th' line breakin' push, savvy?"[/b]

[center][i]Niya[/i][/center]

Niya sat upon her horse, scanning her surroundings when she promptly ducked, an arrow narrowly missing the group and its intended target as it embedded itself in the dirt several feet behind Solanne, having missed Niya and Abra as well. Solanne's reply to her own small comment got a soft shrug before responding, speaking rather quietly as was her want.

[b]"Quite, a tad bit on the soft side though. Mind the arrows."[/b]

Niya watched the fighting and struggle going on around her between friendly and not so friendly forces, the Feroxians seemed to be holding the Longfort still, catching glimpses of an old man in their ranks that she did not recognize as one of their own. Probably on loan from this group that were relieving the Feroxians, then, as she continued trotting after Jacob as he fought, noting his swordsmanship was, at worse, on par with his magic, which had proven sufficient so far. She noted that, after cutting the woman and her two friends down, promptly took concern for her being injured, and Niya sighed as she raised the healing staff, stabilizing the woman despite her better judgement. Orders were orders, after all, and after the emergency stabilizing, she hopped off her horse to further examine the injured woman, sighing quietly at the sound of that familiar mercenary bellowing across the field of battle once more.

[b]"She is stable, although survival is not guaranteed right now. Jerod, I would say welcome home, but we're still far too south for that. Khan might not be pleased to see you here, one of them at any rate."[/b]