Running away was obviously a good plan, and Fergus made no objections as he followed Axley, Cilia, and Snow. That said, running away without a plan was likely just postponing the inevitable. The shells kept falling. Buildings and people continued to be consumed and destroyed. The groans of the Juggernaut grew louder and louder. Then it happened. Fergus and the unlikely trio he was now fleeing with were retreating across the city and trying to avoid the deadly bombardment, but ground forces were less easy to evade. Three warriors with sickly grey-white skin and wicked curved blades crossed their path, along with a woman in heavy armor who wielded a flaming sword.

[COLOR=F02264][B]"Not far to the remnants of the grid, General. We'll mop up around here while you get it ready for his arrival."[/B][/COLOR] The woman gave no verbal response, and simply ran back toward the center of the city. The three men turned their attention to Fergus and the other survivors from the church, and began their approach. Fergus, while far from a warrior himself, had received his share of combat training from House Mnemon. He drew his short blade, but was visibly trembling. This was not training. If he fouled up here, he would be dead.

[COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Shit shit shit! What do we do?!"[/B][/COLOR] cried the barrister mere seconds before the men were upon them. One took a wide swing at Fergus, who barely stepped out of the way. Rather than lose his whole arm, the sleeve of his shirt was very crudely torn and he took a small cut on his bicep. The pain was not immediate, however. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. In retaliation, Fergus took a stab at the warrior. While his blade atually hit its mark in the foe's side, there was no blood. This caused Fergus to take another step back. Undead. That meant only one thing. Even a man who was not involved in the Scarlet War knew that undead were often a hallmark of a Deathlord. Wait. Could that mean... no. The monstrous roar. Was this going to be a repeat of what happened in Thorns?!

It may have seemed silly, but Fergus took a rock from one of his pouches and hurled it at his opponent's face. It smashed right into the undead's eye, causing him to yell out in anger and pain as the hefty rock did severe damage to his eye. [COLOR=FF8C00][B]"We need to leave! Now! Follow me! Please, I beg you trust me!"[/B][/COLOR] and with that, he fled toaward the northwest. Fergus knew he needed to tell the ruling class in Lord's Crossing about the impending invasion by the Deathlord. If they were informed of the sacking of the Imperial Ruins yet again, perhaps they might take action. But to ensure that, Fergus (and his new friends) needed to recount their tale of survival and escape to House Mnemon and the other noble houses.

They needed to survive. They needed to escape. They needed to live.