[u][center][h3]Marianne Delacroix[/h3][/center][/u]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Jr0Uu63.png?1[/img][/center]

Having prior separated themselves from Sir Eadwig's main force to move into position, her and the men she commanded lay in wait at the edge of the dense brush and vegetation of the forest. Looking on, watching and observing as the other forces were well into their work. Waiting for the moment for when they would begin their assault on the bandit camp. Keeping her expression as blank and stoic as possible, her grip tightened on the reins of her palfrey. Turning her head, her eyes took in the faces of the knights who had yet to lower their helmet visors. Looking each of the valiant men in the eyes and committing their faces to memory, with each giving her a respectful nod of the head or similar honorable gesture. Quietly sighing, she turned to face forward. Truth be told...

She was scared.

Scared of coming so close to Death's visage only to stare into the hollowed sockets of his eyes. Inhale the rancid stench of his breath and take it into her body. The scents of blood, viscera, and other human filth. She was scared of losing any of her men, though she hardly knew them as people they were still held dear to her heart. It was inevitable, she knew this. But, it didn't make it any more comforting or the burden easy to deal with. She was scared of getting hurt herself, terrified at the idea of possibly shedding her own blood and seeing it. Nervousness, anxiety, doubt, and similar emotions taunted her. Pulling at her heartstrings and testing her faith, to which she replied with by internally forcing them into a compact sphere to cast against the ground and stamp beneath her heel.

Now was no time for such feelings. Reminding herself of who she was, of the noble blood that coursed through her veins, and of her whole reason for being, she steeled her resolve. Her jaw setting as her eyebrows came together, her eyes burned fiercely with an intense passion as she decided that action would suffice to silence her doubts. Mustering her confidence and inner strength, she projected her voice as best she can over the chaos taking place behind those palisades. Her voice coming out clear and firm.

[b]"Men! With me!"[/b]
Raising her arm, she waved it forward and willed her palfrey to do the same.
As they moved together with pikemen at the front, Marianne thought to state the obvious and make her intentions known.
But, when she thought about it more it would be rather pointless. Sir Eadwig gave her experienced knights to command, they already knew what the plan was and what to do. They were merely allowing her the courtesy to issue the commands they already knew they would be following. So, instead she took after Sir Eadwig's simple commands as they neared the palisade wall.
[b]"Ropes!"[/b]
As they were commanded, the five pikemen tossed their ropes onto the palisades and began to heave, slowly pulling them down.
[b]"Ready bows!"[/b]
In near unison, her and her 12 cavalry readied their bows.
Marianne's eyes flitted from the pikemen and the sagging palisades.
[b]"Draw!"[/b]
They all nocked their arrows. Any moment now and Marianne would be greeted to the full view of combat.
[i]"Do not falter. Steady your hand. Steel your heart."[/i] Marianne told herself.
She could hear the wood and string of her bow straining, creaking audibly as she held her draw form.
Down the palisades came, the wood crashing to the ground with little fanfare. The sight that lay beyond nearly stole her breath from her, but she fought to keep control of herself.
[b]"Fire!"[/b] She shouted at the top of her lungs, letting her bowstring loose as her first arrow shot through the air and found its home in the neck of a shocked bandit. Unexpecting that the walls of their little world came down so suddenly all around them.

After her first shot, a volley of arrows followed behind it. Immediately clearing an uncounted score of bandits, dropping them instantly as their aim was true and found their intended targets with ease. There was some poetic beauty to it, Marianne would later find. Having felt the gentle brush of her arrow's fletching through her white gloved hands. [b]"Maintain fire! Pikes! Advance and clear the entrance for our horses!"[/b] Marianne continued to shout with as much volume as she could summon, already nocking her next arrow shot. The experienced men she had at her side did as they were told, continually loosing arrow after arrow following her example. The pike advanced with relative ease, bashing aside bandits with their shields and executing them their pikes until they failed and drew their other weapons. Within seconds the path was clear.

Slinging her bow behind her, Marianne took the reins of her palfrey and broke forward as fast as the horse could manage. [b]"Cavalry! With me! Follow along the perimeter to your right until we link with Sir Tiral's forces! Pikemen, continue after us to reinforce Sir Tiral's flank!"[/b] Leaping over the fallen walls, Marianne was thrust headlong into what felt as if it were the infernal belly of some demonic beast. Shaking her head, she shoved the scene out of her mind and refocused. [b]"Cavalry! Continue to hound them with arrow fire! Do not allow any bandit forces to break through Sir Tiral's flank! Force them back to the center of the camp, but do not give chase to those who flee!"[/b] Allowing her horse to continue forward without her guidance, Marianne prepared her bow and nocked another arrow to fire. When..

[b]"Dame Marianne!"[/b] One of her men shouted at her, desperation in his voice.
She turned toward the voice that called out to her only to turn back 'round in the opposite direction too little, too late.

She didn't know what had hit her. Possibly some crude blunt weapon? All she knew was that she had no time to even gasp before her world quite literally came crashing down on top of her. The wind was forced out of her lungs and a severe dull pain radiated from her stomach. Her back and head ached with a similar pain as she slowly opened her eyes to stare up at the darkening sky, sitting up to cough weakly. Her head pulsed painfully, vision swimming. She felt like vomiting but swallowed down the rising bile, reaching out for the reins of her horse when she realized she no longer sat on her horse. She had been dismounted, her palfrey nowhere to be seen. Just as she came to this realization, the culprit that had forced her off her steed threw himself on top of her to lock her into a grappling match.

Panting as she quickly broke out in a fearful sweat, she struggled against the strength of the larger man, essentially pinned by his size and weight. She began to pathetically whimper as she strained and fought, looking around desperately for someone. Anyone, to come aide her. To save her. But from all that she could see within the fires and bloodshed, was that all her men were embroiled in fierce battle with a group of bandits that had been able to somewhat organize. Unable to reach her in time as she faced Death in the eyes of this bandit atop her. A sinister dagger in his hand, begging to be sunk into her neck. Tears welling up in her eyes, she cried out. Pleading and begging that someone help. As she stared into the eyes of the bandit, she saw the crude and animalistic desire in the man's eyes. Wanting nothing more but to bleed her dry, to kill her. He was even grinning, frothing at the mouth as his spittle fell to Marianne's face. Horror overcame her, taking her.

This was it. Her very first mission and she would die here, just as quickly as any other knight.
[i]"I'm going to die!"[/i]
She thought of her brothers.
[i]"He's going to kill me!"[/i]
Her mother and father.
[i]"This is my end!..."[/i]
She shut her eyes and half wanted to just embrace Death, still managing to keep the man at bay and from doing any serious harm to her yet.
[i]"Goddess Reon, I'm sorry! Please, forgive me!"[/i]
Her strength slowly giving out, the bandit's dagger came ever closer to her neck.
[i]"Captain Fanilly! Iron Roses!"[/i]
Panting hard, her lungs and muscles burned, still some fight left in her as the dagger's tip came within an inch of her carotid artery.
[b]"You're going to die tonight! Sweet thing, you!"[/b]
The bandit snarled, his breath reeking of meats and alcohol raided from other innocents.

There was something in those words. When said aloud by the bandit after her life, it woke something within Marianne. Blinking, a moment of clarity passed over her. Was her death such a certainty at the hands of this meager foe? Was Marianne seriously going to just accept defeat so easily? The heiress to the throne of the proud Delacroix noble family? The 'lightning princess' that would join the Iron Roses, proud and confident? No. This was not her. But, this moment was what she needed to come to terms with herself. She had yet to let go of a part of herself that dragged her down and prevented her from becoming truly great. She was to change that, this very moment.

Finding strength, she gritted her teeth and growled. Her expression growing fierce and severe, she allowed herself to become enraged.
[i]"No! This will NOT become my grave, my deathbed!"[/i] Losing herself in her rage, her mana became unstable and seeped from her body. Manifesting in vicious arcs of electricity crackling up and down her body, her long raven hair starting to levitate. The bandit was startled at the sudden sparks that lightly shocked him, and that was all Marianne needed. Recalling her training, she attacked his hold on his dagger and stole it away from him. Freeing her hands in the process, she crossed her fist across the bandit's face. The strike had hardly any strength behind it to do any real damage, the bandit returning the gesture in kind by striking Marianne across her own face.

She tasted blood, but ignored it and collected it to instead spit in the bandit's eyes. The bandit cried out in more annoyance than anything, but the distraction continued to work in Marianne's favor. Bucking her weight and hips up and forward, she threw the bandit off balance and with a few swift movements freed herself from under the man. Not stopping there, she reversed the situation and flipped the man onto his own back. Quickly straddling him, she took the dagger she stole from him and immediately buried it deep into his eye socket with a loud scream. Pushing with all her might as deeply as she could until she could feel something pop and the bandit lay still underneath her, dead. Arcs of electricity still sparked over her body, her hair still magically levitating and floating as she panted heavily. With a yank, she removed the bloodied dagger and stared down at her work just as her men came up to her.

[b]"Dame Marianne! Are you alright?"[/b] A pikemen asked, concerned for her wellbeing as the rest of them surrounded her to form a protective circle.
Wordlessly, she cast aside the dagger and got to her feet.
They all looked to her, fending off the bandits that dared come close.
Drawing her sword, she shouted at them.
[b]"What are you doing?! Continue with the mission! I'm fine, damn it!"[/b]
Looking to each other and then to see the fire that burned within Marianne, they understood.
Regrouping and reorganizing as quickly as they could, they prepared themselves.
With horse or not, Marianne would continue. Not nearly as fast as her palfrey, she broke off into a sprint towards Sir Tiral's flanks. Swiftly and gracefully dancing between charging bandits, near surgical sword swings cutting deeply enough into their necks to kill them. Her blade near invisible with the speed at which she thrust and swung it, save for a telltale flash of light reflected off of the metal. Deflecting telegraphed and amateur weapon attacks with the buckler on her left forearm to follow up with a beautiful riposte.

She carried on with her plan. After all she was a grown woman, no longer a child. A proud woman at that! Marianne Delacroix of the Iron Roses! Her pikemen followed close behind her though struggled to keep up. Her cavalry circling around them to continue their arrow assault. Not a soul would be allowed to infiltrate Sir Tiral's ranks. Not if the Lightning princess had anything to do about it.