[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/5bec6ce2-25a4-4fe3-b84c-218426acddf5.png[/img][hr][h3][color=fff200]H        O        L        G        A        R        T        H[/color][/h3][/center][hr]
Holgarth was adressed by two people; the strange tall woman and the half-orc man. His eyes narrowed at the womans words. She spoke like a sorceror, not plain but in riddles. He remembered she had also seemed on good terms with the Witch, which did not bode well. Whatever it was she held in her hand looked dangerous, too. He would have to watch it with that one, but decided to answer her as best he could. [color=fff200]I do not fully understand your words[/color], he said, [color=fff200]But I am no butcher of children. I am a slayer of men and beasts. What are you?[/color]

As he finished speaking, the half-orc man took his turn. Holgarth listened to his words intently. He was a scout, and a damned good one at that. There was always the possibility that the man was a fool, but Holgarth decided against this - he had an air of competence and command about him, unlike fools who usually stank of a false sense of self. This man, the Frail, he could be useful, Holgarth decided. He would keep him close, for the time being. Close and alive. Then, suddenly, the man seemed to notice something. A moment later, Holgarth heard it too, faint on the wind. The rumble of hooves. Someone was coming.

He turned and saw movement on the horizon. He couldn't tell their exact number, but they were many. A score or more, from what he could gather. They could be easterling barbarians, in which case Holgarth and the others were lucky. They might be savages, but they were manageable enough and would sometimes agree to duels of honor, in which case Holgarth had no fear of losing or dying. His hopes were quickly dashed, however, as he saw another shadow on the horizon. Trouble was, this shadow was [i]above[/i] the horizon, suspended in the air. By now, he was beginning to see the horned helmets of the Sulfreyan knights, too.

[color=fff200]Wyverns[/color], he growled, drawing the Underblade from its sheath, [color=fff200]Tricky. You, Frail, stay close to me. Take the weapon from the first foe I fell, and watch my back. This will be a hard fight.[/color]