Major Interactions:  [@Hokum][@Polaris North]

The sight of the undead boar barreling towards them froze Ren in his tracks as he ushered the children to safety.  The relentless hail of arrows falling all around them only added to the spilling anxiety while the children screamed in their dire efforts to flee to the western gates.  Some of the surviving monks accompanied the children as they charged beneath the barrage, causing a few of his brethren to fall in a noble attempt to save the children.  Frantic steps crushed against the grass as they made their way out of the church grounds.  For a brief moment, Ren spotted the last leaf laying on the ground, crushed and destroyed under the heels of panic.  As a sudden good soul faced the boar, Ren took one last look behind him to check for Devlin and any other stragglers.

Kiya, one of the orphans, released a shout as her feet failed her as the young girl tumbled to the ground with a thud.  The cohort of skeletal marksmen accompanying the boar locked their sights on the child as their boney recurves lifted into the air before they nocked fatal arrows of blight and shadow which soon shot into the air with deadly accuracy.  The arrows rained all around Kiya as Ren rushed towards her.  He scooped her into his arms before turning her away from the wave of arrows.  Sharp, hellish pains wracked through Ren as two arrows pierced his body, but the lad shook it off in favor of trudging to his feet and carrying the girl to safety behind a row of houses.  Soon, the pain became too much to bear as Ren sank to his knees and helped Kiya to her feet.  Brother Adenard, one of the surviving monks, sprinted to Ren's side as he left Kiya to his care.  The two sped towards the western gate, leaving Ren alone with his wounds as he took cover behind one of the sundered walls, awaiting Devlin's arrival to his side.

With the arrows embedded into his system, probably cutting a vein or two, Ren breathed hard as a silent prayer escaped his lips.  It was like moving a muscle, something already memorized from years of experience.  A part in his brain twitched before a legion of cells flooded into his body.  Trembling hands reached upon the arrows, excruciatingly pulling them out of his flesh.  Ren threw his head back, blood pouring from the wounds as he forcibly extracted the wooden projectiles from his body before throwing them to the ground.  His hands fell to the floor in exhaustion, his head drooping as the nasty incisions on his chest and side began to sew together as if an invisible suture threaded them shut.  A healthy shade of pink returned to Ren's face as his muscles bulged from the excess cells developing his body to inhuman levels.

He rose to his feet, knees wobbling in the process.  His eyes soon caught the sight of a golem and two men battling with the boar.  They were sure to lose with a growing number of undead looming over the horizon.  The church stood like a solemn lighthouse of hope among the tidal waves of destruction circling around it like wolves with prey.  For decades, the church had remained standing even through the earthquakes and the calamities which struck Nadska.  It was a sanctuary for the lost, but as the undead began to scale its stone parapets, Ren saw visions of a Nadska overrun with no chance of fighting back.

They had to save as much fighting force as possible.  There was no point in wasting a precious life to a never-ending spawn of hell.  Noticing Devlin, he raised his hands to her.  How he wanted to express his gratitude to her, and for a moment, he felt the urge to wrap his arms around her, but these feelings could wait.  What was more important was to save the lives that could still be wrenched from the jaws of magics beyond men.

'We need to escape with them.  No point to fight without chance of win.'  He gestured to the three entities clashing with the army sieging the church.  'Worry not about me.  I cannot be killed easy.  Worry for them.  We help them escape.'

Ren dashed towards one of the men loosing arrows upon the skeletons.  The mute lad flailed his arms to catch his attention, hoping to Heren that this guy could understand him.  He began to sign, communicating with them to start retreating as all the kids had already fled from the church.  No glory could be wrought from salvaging a hollow temple whose only denizens were stone-cold gods and flickering candles.  They could not win today, but there was still hope tomorrow.

All they could do was to gather their strength together and rage against the dying of the light.