As the Cursed duo rushed them, Elayra went for her saber, and Drust met the woman head-on. He gripped the woman’s arms easily, holding them out, making her thrash and kick wildly. Compared to him, she looked like little more than frail doll throwing a tantrum.
	Behind him, the forgen was faster than Elayra’s draw. She reached to shove Ghent aside, but she didn’t get the chance.
	Ghent’s terrified shriek made Elayra’s ear ring, startling her. Catching his movement, she instinctively ducked.
	With a hefty [i[thwak[/i], Ghent’s sword hit the forgen. The creature squealed—a sound more fit for a pig than a human as it tumbled sideways. A claw of one of the paws on the shirt caught on a strand of her hair as it flew past.
	Without so much as a glance their way, Drust tossed the Forsaken into the airborne path of the forgen.
	The Cursed duo collided. They tangled together in a cacophony of screeches and garbled words as they tumbled and skid over the loose gravel.
	“That would’ve been impressive if not for the scream, Featherhead!” Elayra said, as she at last had time to draw her blue-bladed sword. She turned her head to Ghent with a wobbly grin, but even that faded at the sight of the alleyway’s entrance.
	The first of the other Forsaken lumbered into the alleyway, a massive, bald man riddled with scars and half-dragging a rusted shovel. 
	“Run!” Elayra reached for Ghent’s wrist to tug him along with her as she ran deeper into the alley. Hoping he’d stay close, she released him to free her hand.
	Drust glanced at the alley’s opening. His neck twitched, scowling at the newcomers. “First right!” he barked, following his charges.
	“[i]St-k-iiiig!”[/i] The Forsaken untangled herself from the youth just enough to lurch for Elayra as she passed, expression rabid.
	Teeth grit, she met the woman with a thrust from her sword. The woman screeched as the blade drove into her arm. The sound cut short as Elayra’s boot slammed into her face. The Forsaken sprawled backward.
	The forgen hissed and scuttled away, abandoning its elder to lope back into the building it had originally come from.
	Undaunted, face twisted in insanity and pain, the Forsaken lunged yet again at the nearest of the trio.
	This time, quick as a blink, Drust snatched the woman by her matted hair before she could reach her target. Without breaking stride, he wrenched her screeching, writhing from into him, then savagely twisted her neck.
	His own neck twitched, revulsion and a satisfied grin fighting for dominance on his face. 
	He tossed the woman’s limp body aside, leaving the new corpse to rot, nameless, with its fellows.