Their charge started quicker and more unexpectedly than she thought. Instead of spreading apart and retreating to find more of their number, they stood and fought. Sagax rushed ahead, bypassing two screaming mer and slicing one across the thigh, the bowman. She rolled her eyes, was this really what he wanted to do after making such a show? Cut a man's leg? Why not chop into his neck? There were still the two chargers to worry about. One broke off and she did not care about their fate.
Before she could dart forward and spike the mer in his throat and watch the idiot choke on his own blood, his friend's loud roar took her attention away. The sword he held skidded off her shield like oil off ice, leaving him delightfully open for a counterattack. She cracked a wolf-toothed grin at the mer's helplessness, wishing he'd look at her one last time and realize his grave mistake. Instead of ending him by poking her spear through his neck next to his jugular, she booted him in the shoulder, sending him toppling to the ground. “Wait!” She advanced on him, but she only bit her lip as each step brought her closer. “I can tell you where my friends are!”
Her grin fell when she saw the crossbowman fire a bolt that hit Sadri. Those weapons were made to bite right through plate, they'd make a quick meal of chainmail links. She swallowed, trying to stuff a hoarse scream back down her throat, but before she could spring after the crossbowman, smashing her heel into the foolish swordsman on his arse at her feet in the process, Karth was right there. Her eyes narrowed as they settled once more on the mer, clutching at what ribs she now knew she'd cracked on him. The world was nothing around her and the elf. A scream about hurting someone's friend could be heard miles away.
“No need, little brother. I know where they are too,” She changed her grip on her spear to an overhand one, “Rotting in whatever shithole afterlife you lot go to.” She growled low as she stuck the spear just above his groin. The mer's cry was silent, only the faintest squeal as the veins in his neck stood out and his red eyes went wide. While his face was still a picture of agony, she twisted the head of her spear in him and stepped forward, bringing the rim of her shield down on his neck. A sickening crack of bone and choking mer was heard and he was dead. The battle-lust slithered from her veins as quick as it had come on and her quick feet carried her to Sadri's side.
She grasped at his shoulder, her wide eyes scanning him, “Where did it hit?” She asked, wishing she'd had her thread and some ingredients for a poultice on her. Or at least a healer that wasn't at knifepoint. She expected there to be more blood, or for Sadri to be whimpering and his breathing to be quick sips of air. It slowly dawned on her that it might not be that bad a wound, “Where did it hit?” Her voice now less panic and more curiosity.
