Dwarves were swarming the duo and Caleb could only keep his sword steadily pointed in their direction. Rainbow continued to slash his way through kneecaps whereas Ribbon could be heard barking from somewhere in the back. A quick glimpse into the frenzy revealed her to be somewhere in the distance. She could be heard viciously snarling as she snapped back one of the dwarves' arm. There was an outcry in response to a [i]crack![/i] that caused Caleb to temporarily freeze in place. "Stay focused, Caleb!" 

"Huh?!" A sword was quick to parry a ceremonial dagger that had been hidden beneath one of the pews. What kind of religion was this?! Surely one that had taken rejoice in slaughter and warfare. Why else would they have murdered Rainbow's fellow crew members and Ribbon's owner? It was the memory of his conversation with Rainbow from last night that guided a stab forward. One that was filled with anger, adrenaline, and maybe even hatred. "Get back!" 

Caleb wasn't sure if the stab was fatal or not, but he barely had the time to check. It wasn't long before he was ducking to avoid an arm that went swiping towards his head. The sword was pulled loose and he lightly kicked his victim away. There was a cry as the dwarf fell to the cold floor leaving behind a puddle of blood in his wake. The young boy was nimble on his feet as he leapt back from another clumsy punch that had been thrown in his direction. The grip on his sword tightened as he took a deep breath. One glance towards Ribbon was all it took before another head was sent flying across the floor. His fighting style had been accompanied by a nervous shake, but there no denying its refined manner. He was taught by a knight, by several knights, and all Rainbow could do was look on in awe as another dwarf was knocked off of its feet in the background. 

"Not bad, kid! We still have some of these earth-fondlers left though. Keep going!"

There was another deep breath before Caleb readied himself for another strike. Blood was pounding in his ears and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. He was practically covered from head-to-toe in crimson by now. In any other circumstance, he would have been mortified by his own actions and by how much blood he had spilled. These dwarves, evil as they were, were mostly unarmed. This was slaughter, but even still, he gripped his sword and pointed towards another approaching member of the cult. "R-Right! I. . I've got this!"