Dumhuvud simply stared at Sagax in disbelief. Normally, dozens of curses would already be departing his lips. But the Cat-Kicker only gazed at the young Imperial and raised one eyebrow, the only one he still had. Perhaps he was still in pain, or perhaps he couldn't comprehend how this thin, lame-looking kid managed to not only survive, but also knock an enemy out. 

One of his lackeys, Korkad Trollface, probably the ugliest man you'll never want to see, scampered to the Cat-Kicker's side. He stopped and examined the Imperial, laughing in utter surprise. “Haha! He lived, you owe me ten septims boss.”

Dumhuvud looked at his “housecarl” and back at Sagax. His sight, which was only provided by one-half of the visual feed, darted between. “Tie him up and bring him back.” He fumed, gritting his teeth. 

“And will one of you imbeciles put out that damn fire?” Turning away from Sagax and his prisoner, Dumhuvud shouted to nobody in particular. Well, it was mostly for the sake of shouting.  

“You were that one on the walls.” Korkad flashed a roll of dirty brown teeth. His breath smelled like horse shit, enough to make a weak stomach retch its content. “Never thought you had it in you.”

On the way back, Dumhuvud marched a good distance ahead. He was surprisingly mellow, having only scolded various mercenaries a few times. For most of journey, he was quiet. Behind him though, Korkad and Dumhuvud's other sidekick, Skitprat the Salty, shoved the prisoner and taunted him the whole way. One of them spat in the Reachman's face, while the other constantly tripped the prisoner over and over. Korkad and Skitprat even took the chance to urinate on the Reachman, and other mercenaries certainly wished to join in. But Dumhuvud halted them in the last second, saying, “you pull your dick out and I'll cut it off.”

The prisoner no longer resisted, he could not bring his urine soaked head up to face the sheer humiliation. The battle was bloody and merciless, so it only made since many survivors would want to add as much insult as possible to his injury. Many were hurt and some lost new found friends just hour ago, many more hated the fact this batch of gold had to be done for an absurd amount of hardship. All of their woes, present from their time here, and past in their tumultuous lives, all vented out on the prisoner.

Dumhuvud was having none of it. He ordered the prisoner to be brought in a small tent. Skitprat was assigned to guard the prisoner. While Dumhuvud went change his bandage, loud strikes could be heard from the tent. By the time Dumhuvud came back, he had no more than a corpse to dispose of. 

Did he actually haul this Reachman back for interrogation? Or did Dumhuvud know that it would only serve as angry men's punching bag? The battle was over, so what was there to interrogate about? If one had the impossible talent of peering inside Dumhuvud's mind, they would sense conflict. But on the outside, the Cat-Kicker was just his usual frowning self.
[hr]
“I will.” Lucex said soon after Sadri finished. Wrecked with guilt for missing his shot, and the feeling of irrelevance as always the archer in the back, this was Lucex's time to redeem himself. Dangerous, yes, but also an opportunity to demonstrate his courage. This is it, Lucex thought, it is time to take lead and show Sadri and Edith he was just as willing to do his part as everyone else.

The door exploded.

If Lucex had seen Orakh's subordinate topside, he would have been much more respectful of the charge's backblast. Alas, in the tight quarters of the exit and his own lack of urgency, Lucex was thrown back by explosive forces. The front of his fur armor was charred, and he landed with the wind knocked out of him. But courtesy to the layer of fur between him and the blast, his body suffered no major damage.

On the other side, a Forsworn leaning near the door was blown to smithereens. Another one in close proximity caught sharp pieces of wood splinters in his midsection, ruining a great number of vital organs. The last pair of Reachmen stood further away. Although they were unharmed by the explosion, their stunned postures was testament to the charge's psychological effects. 
 
The blast expanded outward, and it shook the roof of the cave. Sadri's worries was not fully realized. The ceiling shook and specks of dirt showered on him and his companions.  The tunnel held, it did not collapse. Before the smoke cleared, Edith helped Lucex to the side, where he could get up without standing straight in the Forsworns' line of sight. Lucex climbed back on his feet after a couple of moment, he needed to catch his breath but otherwise still capable of combat.

Edith told Sadri to take point, as her shield arm was of questionable use after the encounter with Smokey. She pointed the Dunmer to the further enemy, an archer recovering from shock. Edith herself took on a closer one, she continued thrusting her sword into her target's torso until he no longer moved. When Lucex stumbled outside, all four guards outside had been eliminated. But he saw another group of Reachmen approaching, many of them barely armed and all them fleeing through the rear gate of the redoubt. There was a fire somewhere inside the palisades, and judging by the panicking cries of Forsworn fighters, their focus changed from defence to escape.

Lucex shot dead one runner with an arrow. He aimed towards the subsequent individual, but his shot was halted by the human shield in front of the Forsworn. A Nord man, old in his late forties, was clasped between two hulking arms of a Forsworn. After his missed shot earlier, Lucex dared not risking someone else's life on his accuracy again.

“Lord Borni?” Edith exclaimed in surprise. She raised her sword and carefully trudged in Borni's direction. She knew this man, lord Borni of Markarth, who was an associate of hers and also one of her supply deliverers.

“If you value his life, you'll lower your weapon and let us go.” The Forsworn warned. To prove his point, a dagger pressed against Borni's neck. “Come any closer and his head rolls.”

At this point, Sadri had maneuvered closer to the hostage situation. Edith stood down, she waited for the Dunmer to make the first move. 

“By Talos, cut these dog humpers down. Cut through me if you have to!” Borni struggled  to no avail. However, Sadri chose Borni's life over the Forsworns'. Edith saw the Dunmer disengaging, and the Reachman threw Borni forward before dashing away with his comrades.

“It's over.” Edith sighed in relief. The sun was rising from the east, the early fog started to dissipate, sunlight graced the Reach after a series of cloudy days and one long evening. For the next few minutes, no more Reachmen came out of the back gates. Remaining survivors were either killed, or surrendered. The redoubt was theirs, but even when metal no longer clashed, the fire caused by Vurwe still burned with hateful intensity. 

Edith would take Borni back, and asking for stretchers when she met returning mercenaries on the way. By the time she returned, most of the main assault was there before her. Actually, about half of them were absent. Her heart sunk in dread when she realized they would never be coming back. She suppose, as a soldier of fortune, she should be joyful at the prospect of less division of profit. But she felt quite the opposite. Like many others, her expression was one of tiredness and emptiness. Fatigue was only part of it, though no small part, a larger portion of her bitterness questioned the purpose of this attack. What was the point?

When the stretchers came back with a half-conscious Tennant and a semi-broken down Relmyna, Edith finally stopped pacing and sat down near a healer. There were few men and women of medical or restorative expertise, and the assault took the lives of many valuable healers. So it wasn't much surprise that she found herself alongside Sevine, who just received treatment. Looking on the bright side, her friend was still there.

She allowed Sevine to speak first, and when the huntress asked how her mission went. She waved to another healer checking Tennant's skull. 

“We killed a bear.”