[center][h2][sub][i][color=salmon]Fiona[/color][/i][/sub][/h2][/center]
[sub][sub][h3][i]Unknown Location - [color=green]500 HP[/color] - 5/6 Stamina[/i][/h3][/sub][/sub]
[hr]
	The sounds of battle erupted around Fiona, clashing of steel on steel, weapons whooshing and whistling through the air, grunts of effort, boots digging for purchase against the cracked earth. Fiona's well-practiced opening attack ended with a dull clang of her enchanted blade against her opponent's club, rebounding her weapon backwards harmlessly away from him. It was a simple instrument her enemy wielded, but also a dangerous one given its weight. Her layer of mail would do little to protect her from it, should she take a direct hit.

	Thankfully, her footwork and her decision not to overly commit to the offensive enabled her time enough to react to the faceless brute's retaliation. His club came down swiftly towards her face, and rather than try to block or deflect such a heavy swing, Fiona darted sideways a step, feeling the rush of air that the club through next to her before it thudded heavily into the ground.

	Given a bit of space from the fight, she was able to at least partially observe the other events taking place. Ezheia's shout of no had given her pause, and perhaps subconsciously made her second-guess her attack, but it was too late now, with battle already joined. Nicholas was holding up well beside her. Remarkably, the supposed God Eater had impaled his target, but it seemed unaffected, even offering a fierce blow in return. At the same time, the one who'd called herself Senua had managed to kill one of them by beheading it. Fiona took this as evidence that attacks targeting the body were not worth making.

	Their faceless enemies were even more unnerving up close, with their gurgles and unnatural moans, and the way they seemed to radiate their excitement. For what, Fiona couldn't say. For violence, the prospect of a fight? For mere existence? Perhaps they believed their opponents hopelessly outmatched, soon to end broken upon the ground? Fiona's curiosity was almost enough to halt her aggression, but only almost. For better or worse, she'd thrown herself into a fight, and would now need to see it to its conclusion, or forfeit her life instead. Despite the startling new environment she found herself in, caught in her first battle against real supernatural horrors, there was a definite sort of familiarity to it all. At its core, this was just what she'd practiced for years: martial combat between two individuals with physical weapons, making judgements, striking, and withdrawing in order to gain the upper hand. When she ignored their grotesque features, she could almost place herself back in the temple, sparring against the other Disciples.

	With vigor, she stepped back in towards her club-wielding enemy, taking her blade into both hands and making a strong overhand strike, attacking diagonally downwards at the faceless head before her.