Along with his trusty shield, it had not let him down yet and Marsden had a reserve sword pushed further toward his back, still about his waist. Of course having them crafted by the experts of steel and weapon making didn’t hurt the fact.
Marsden was extremely glad Ramwolf was on his side right now. He had killed a Lupine before and therefore knew the weak spot. Marsden was alive enough, at the time, to see his strike and knew the weak spot as well.
But as mentioned earlier, it was striking the weak spot that presented the problem in defeating them in a hasty manner, which was what was needed at the moment. For if Grom escaped once more, then the information about the Dark Behemoth would leave with him. This battle was the most decisive yet against the rising evil that was the Dark Behemoth.
The thunderous crushing of armor and everything inside it could only mean that Douglas had entered the battle as well. Once Marsden saw the mangled body come rolling beside him, his intuition was confirmed.
Douglas was a mountain of a man, not unlike Lord Christos himself. Douglas stood nearly seven foot tall, and weighed almost as much as Red Steel, Lord Christos’s mount. It was as if the gods themselves carved Douglas’s body out of the granite of the earth. His body and muscles were immaculate.
Marsden had no fear of Douglas personally, because Marsden knew of his good hearted nature off the battlefield. They had spent many a long night in the local taverns, making jokes and getting drunk as pixies thirsting off maple syrup.
Douglas was so large in fact, that he could only move certain parts of his body fast. Right now, it was the upper part, as he swung his mighty flail about, destroying soldiers left and right, literally. As he swung the flail, his long red hair flowed to and fro, as did his braided beard, with tiny animal bones holding the ends only added to his fearsome demeanor which he put on when he faced any opposition.