A long and loud stream of dwarven curses ran from Thothen’s mouth. His short legs carried him into the fight behind his half-elf and human companions. A crossbow bolt ricocheted off of his stony arms as his axe hammered upon an Ildonian archer. Blood splattered from the axe embedded in the human’s chest. Thothen continued his stream of cursing and placed a foot on his fallen enemy to dislodge the weapon.
Ildonians swarmed the half-elf as he fought deeper into the heart of the village. Jarik’s rapier flashed to and fro as he dodged sword blades from the circle of fighters around him. Blood flew as his sword landed time and again. His youthful ambition and elvish speed ground down the Ildonians. Miirik and Firae’s cast spells in support of the half-elf against the soldiers.
Blondie had a knife to the queen’s neck. A thin trickle of blood dripped from the blade. His eyes darted across the battlefield in search of the invisible prince. “Come on out you little bastard or the queen dies.”
“You harm mother and you will wish I would kill you,” Arlin’s voice rang across the battlefield.
“The queen is our priority. Get her out of this battlefield.” Gaston parried blows between words.
Thothen growled at his opponent and swung his axe in a sweeping blow. The heavy blade caught the defender’s leg as his sword struck the dwarf’s side. Before the Ildonian hit the ground the dwarf rushed towards Blondie. Blood drained from his wounded side as he ran. A string of dwarven streamed from his lips. A large stone hand emerged from the earth. It grasped the blonde Ildonian, pulled him off the queen, and pinned him to the ground.
Bewildered, Queen Heather staggered away from the pinned Ildonian. Arlin’s invisible hand grabbed the queen’s. “Come with me mother. We must get you away from here.” The queen nodded and stumbled along behind her invisible son.
“Jarik. Leave. Now.” Gaston stood beside Thothen and provided a defensive line for their retreating companions. The royalty had been freed and had to be extracted from the fighting. Once safe the young men would return and assist the rest of the fighting captives.
Jarik trusted his rapier into one last Ildonian which swarmed him, as quick as the blade landed home the half-elf back flipped away from the fight. He weaved through the fighting combatants towards his companions and escaping elves. No blows landed upon the man as he ran.