Marsden ran forward a few steps and lowered his top half, and tried to keep the whole picture by watching Winston notch and fire arrows. Then turning and watching where the arrows hit.
Marsden had a certain amount of satisfaction seeing the man that hit him in the back being taken out with an arrow through the neck.
Winston would have usually taken out any soldier in due time, but he was having to concentrate on the second line of archers that had appeared. Stan began to draw his short sword, and Marsden shouted as he charged at the grunt that was attacking Stan.
Marsden barreled into the man shield first and knocked him on his side to the ground.
The unexpected slam threw his blade from his hand, he was reaching for it and beginning to get up until Marsden’s blade pierced his side. He went flaccid and Marsden yanked his sword out. Marsden was already beside Winston and told him what he had encountered thus far.
He made a snide comment about how his arrows would find their mark despite any dark magic because Yassym had blessed them.
“Great, how about blessing my sorry a—?” Marsden was interrupted before he could finish his jeer.
“Sir Marsden!” My commander was just behind him, mounted atop his mighty steed, Red Steel, “Report!”
“Lord Christos!” Marsden responded, “It appears Grom has escaped, his men are all that are left!”
Arrows cut the air between them, while Marsden dared not take his eyes off of the oncoming enemy soldiers. But Marsden could not help but take in Christos’s magnificence as he sat upon his grand, deep red stallion.
His polished slate grey, steel armor shined in the bright sun, but Marsden could not see his face, his famous helmet, which had the face of a lion and the lion’s mane flowed into the rear.
It was indeed a fearsome sight for any enemy to see such a manner of being charging toward it. Not only that but the three and a half foot double axe he carried in one hand were also terribly menacing. Red Steel also wore thin plated armor on its forehead, neck and chest, ensuring that any arrows would be stopped, short of armor pierced arrowheads.
“We will not be able to take any prisoners this time,” Christos said with a bit of sadness in his voice.
“Understood,” Marsden nodded, he too was saddened, even though sometimes, he felt like those that had fallen to the sway of the Dark Behemoth’s lies deserved to die, but he continued, “Shall we begin our final assault?”