It was all he could do to keep the Draugr's claws from trying to tear chunks off of him. His armor would protect him from the brunt of it, but time wasn't on his side. The harsh, guttural screeching of the undead [i]thing[/i] filled Roland's ear, and he growled back, his eyes moving from the horrid zombified corpse to Iseldis in an even worse situation. 

With the strength of desperation, he shoved into the Draugr again, snapping one of its legs and causing its body to lurch over the table, spilling letters and an unlit candle onto the floor. His fingers closed tighter around the hilt of his blade, and stepping back, with the Draugr retching at him as it nearly tumbled off the table, he hacked into its chest. The blade hit gnarled flesh and bone, and he had to hack at the thing another time to sever the spinal cord and run through the ribcage. 

It collapsed into a heap, its head still screeching, albeit more quietly as the blue grew dimmer in its eyes. Roland wasn't sure if it was dying or simply weakened. He didn't give it much thought, instead rushing toward his partner to give aid. He hadn't known her for much more than a conversation, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to keep her alive. The Forged had a code of honor as every other Order did, and he'd see it upheld. 

He wished he could slay the thing in one fell sweep, but she was too tightly locked with the monster. He dropped his shield and half-sworded, holding onto the blade near the halfway point with his offhand, and he cut into the thing's arm, severing it. Unfortunately, the hand that had enclosed around Iseldis' throat still squeezed of its own accord, and the Draugr, now free, struck Roland in the face, cutting his cheek and sending him staggering.  

It was by instinct that he lashed out with his blade, cracking its left knee and sending it falling onto its face. He didn't question good fortune, and stabbed downward into its skull, cracking the bone but not quite getting his swordpoint through onto the floor. The creature died all the same, the light fading from its eyes, and the bony hand that held Isaeldis' neck let go, falling to the floor limply. 

Roland breathed heavily, reaching up to wipe the blood pouring down his cheek with his forearm. "Are you ok?" he asked her, feeling the warmth of the liquid drip down his neck a bit.