Naysein took the stone stairs to the battlements two at a time, her feet making no sound as they sped over the white/black stone that muffled the roar of the army beyond. Arrows flickered overhead through the smoky air, a hissing sound marking their passage when they came to close before clattering down into the courtyard beyond. Soldiers ducked back as they loosed arrows and she noted that more than a few had been fallen in return by Orcish weapons. One young soldier, she doubted he was more than two score seasons, lay dead with a look of surprise on his face and an arrow that had driven up under his chin. A trickle of blood ran down his chin and already she could see the bruising around the throat that suggested heavy internal bleeding.

She gained the top of the stairs just in time to see the Prince flinch back from an arrow that spun crazily away after striking his shoulder pauldron. As he ducked back behind a crenellation, she heard him call out to the Drow, Zatana. A brief glance registered the presence of the skilled fighter and Naysein dismissed her at once, she was more than capable of handling herself and no one expected Naysein to keep her alive.

Soldiers were already rushing to do the Princes bidding and she steel flashed as they hacked through the ropes. Some of the more devious waited until the ugly heads appeared at the edge of the parapet before hacking down. The wails of the falling creatures brought a smile to her face. For her own part she drew a single blade and then, with the grace of her kind, she began to kill those orcs who could still make it to the top of their rope, a single thrust into the eye, and they would tumble away to join the growing pile at the bottom of the wall.

She had missed this.