Mawiyah ducked smoothly under an orc's blade her scimitar sending another arc of black blood splattering across the wet ground, her head scarf pulled off in the struggle to show the tattoos which marked her face. Her teeth gritted in fury as she was grabbed at by another orc, the much stockier stronger creature yanking her close with a dagger thrusting at her the crude iron scraping her lamellar armor; the leather catching it as it slipped between two of the layered steel plates. The blow bruising her ribs as she slung her head forwards the steel rim of her helmet smashing the orc's nasty deformed nose its blood splattering down her face and body; her scimitar dropping on the muddy ground as she shoved the creature down. Climbing ontop of the orc as it fell flat on its face pressing her knees into its shoulders as she pressed down on the back of the struggling beasts head; forcing it into the soft muddy earth. Its struggling slowly ceasing as it lost oxygen, stumbling back to her feet as she snatched up her scimitar sheathing it as the remaining orcs fled into the darkness. 

Mawiyah quickly ran over to a man bleeding from his gut coughing up blood, one of Darcyn's by the looks of him groaning as she knelt down to check on his wound; cutting his shirt open with her knife. The wound was a large deep gash all the way through a fatal wound for certain, as she looked at the dying man Mawiyah offered him wine from her skin which he eagerly accepted. As he finished drinking from the skin and handed it back to the Haradrim woman, the man looked into her eyes a rare time were her race didnt seem to matter. 

Mawiyah examined the wound as she man groaned again, speaking with a tired voice glancing around as the panic of the battle remained.
"Bad way to go, have you had enough?"

The man looked at the woman with obvious fear in his strained eyes, tears streaking his face as he nodded face scrunched in pain from the ripped flesh and punctured organs. Mawiyah held her knife down low by her thigh, down on one knee thrusting it smoothly and suddenly between his fourth and fifth rib on the left side of his chest severing the heart and putting and end to his suffering. Wiping her blade clean on the dead mans pants, closing his eyelids with two fingers as she stood up sheathing the knife; turning to see Darcyn already berating someone else again. Her feet squishing in the mud and blood as the rain tinked against the steel of her helm, aiming to step between Darcyn and Agarwaen

 [@LadyRunic] [@13Org]