The only warning the Ceronians had was an empty barrel thundering down the hallway.

As one, they wordlessly rose, closed ranks, leveled spears, and shut the gate of adamantium. This did not even count as a clever trick; this was a tired training exercise. Entire Olympic events were built around shield walls resisting ever-larger, ever-heavier impacts. The hollow wooden barrel disintegrated into firewood on impact, and did not move them back an inch.

Which was when two figures leapt from the blind spot behind the ruined barrel. Dolce slid beneath the outstretched spears, and with a quick slash knocked them off-target. In the breath before they brought them to bear again, Vasilia thrust her glaive at the heart of their formation, the space around its tip seemed to warp, and-

[i]-wrrrrrkBOOM-[/i]

The enemy scattered like tenpins, their shields crumpled. 

[Rolling to Overcome: 4 + 6 + 2 - 1 = [b]11[/b]]