Crow crouched behind a bush at the border between Younis and Brerra, his gaze locked on the distant battle. He fidgeted with the daggers in his hands, filled with nervous energy as he waited for any knights to come his way. It was hard to see what was happening from where he was hiding, but it looked like the Brerratic forces were slowly pulling back towards the village. It was only a matter of time before they got close enough to become a threat to the peasants.

He didn’t have to wait long for his prophesy to come true. After a while of waiting, he spotted a flash of movement up ahead. A couple of Younisian knights had broken away from the fighting and were barreling through the foliage towards Whitebridge. He tensed, watching them coldly from behind the bush. In their eagerness to strike deeper into their enemies’ territory, they didn’t seem to notice the thief that they were headed right towards. He smirked to himself. Their distraction would be their downfall.

As the knights got nearer to his hiding place, Crow leaped out at them, swinging the dagger in his left hand at the closest Younisian. The blade made contact with the man’s side, cutting cleanly through his flesh before he had a chance to react. The knight cried out in pain, dropping to the ground and clutching at his wound to keep his innards from spilling out. Meanwhile, Crow turned on the second knight, who had raised his sword to defend himself, eyes wide with shock at the unexpected attacker.

Without giving him a chance to strike first, the thief lunged at the Younisian. They engaged in a brief clash of blades before he managed to break through the man’s defenses and deliver a sharp stab to his chest. The knight collapsed beside his comrade with a groan, unable to continue the fight due to the injury.

Finished with them now, Crow stepped away and turned back to the battlefield, his eyes sweeping calculatingly over the battalions of knights. They had drawn back even closer to the border now, so it was time for him to pull back a bit as well. He was just about to do so, when he caught sight of something else that made him stop: Another group of Younisian knights had pulled away from the main battle and were headed towards the village, but this time, there were a lot more of them. He clicked his tongue. He could take out at least two of them with the element of surprise, but after that, he was too outnumbered to do anything about them on his own. He just hoped the other thieves were close enough to see them and join in as well.

Crow made his way over to the group, moving stealthily through the trees as he took advantage of the low morning light. As he had done with the first two knights, he jumped out from hiding the instant the Younisians had come close enough that he could strike down a couple of them before they noticed his presence. However, instead of going on to attack any of the others this time, he drew back from killing two knights and watched the others warily as they began to turn on him.

He was just about to call for aid when two other figures leaped out of the forest on the other side of the knights, blades swinging viciously as they cut into their enemies. Crow felt a wave of relief as he watched Alistair and Simon join in the battle. With his companions at his side, he felt much more confident.

“Took you both long enough,” he grinned at the thieves as they backed up to stand on either side of him.

“The hero always shows up at the last moment,” Alistair smirked at him.

“I’ve never known a hero who gets drunk as often as you,” Crow rolled his eyes in return.

“Whatever,” Alistair snorted. “I fight better drunk anyway!” He charged back into the fight, crossing swords with one of the closest Younisians.

Crow and Simon followed his lead, picking out their own targets and attacking with equal tenacity. Despite their efforts, there were still too many knights for the three of them to handle on their own and they were forced to fall back to the edge of Whitebridge. At this point, the remaining villagers were beginning to join in as well. Crow felt a surge of anger as he watched the knights take down a few peasant boys who couldn’t have been older than fifteen.

To make matters worse, it appeared that some of the Brerratic knights had taken notice of the Younisians and fallen back to fight them in the village as well. They fought ruthlessly with little care for the villagers in their paths.

Crow yanked his dagger back out of a man that he had just stabbed and slipped away to help the people of Whitebridge, who were now in danger of being attacked by both Younisian and Brerratic knights. Momentarily forgotten, he managed to catch one knight from Brerra by surprise, delivering a deep cut to the man’s thigh and forcing him to the ground. Having immobilized his first target, he moved on to strike a Younisian who was in an unfair fight with another peasant boy, dropping him as well after a short clash of blades that left him with a cut on his own arm.

The thief stood back from the fighting for a moment as he panted to catch his breath. However, he didn’t have long to rest before another Brerratic knight came at him with his sword raised. He quickly lifted one of his daggers up to block the attack and followed the motion by bringing his other blade around to deliver a swift stab to the man’s torso. The knight cried out and fell down at Crow’s feet, clutching at the wound the same way his first enemy had.

Still breathing hard, Crow looked around at the knights, thieves—Rikki had appeared at some point as well—and peasants, all locked in combat. Even though he had faced identical battles countless times over the past year, the sight still made him feel sick. Even worse was the fact that the main battle had drawn close enough to Whitebridge that there was now a sea of knights outnumbering the villagers.

[i]Is this ever going to end?[/i] Crow thought tiredly as he ran to join in the fighting again.