The Warriors' Bane

th Battlelust; Selmas c

Selmas almost can’t tell his own clan apart from those they are fighting, the Bizantin, who are clothed in deep navy tunics, fringes of fabric whipping in tornadoes around their

ch and driving her elbow into his kidneys. Selmas winces, because he knows that’s painful, and then his attention is pulled away by a sharp cry as one of the foreigners falls, an arrow in their eye. Selmas

in who killed them tears the blade free, blood spraying across his clothing, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Teeth bared, he s

rior is caught up in his rage. He snarls at the fallen enemy, like a warning to stay down even though

arly into the water. He holds his breath as he watches Byrin fall into the surf as his opp

he other fighter over, water spraying around them. He draws his fist back and delivers a hard strike to the person’s face, and they stop thrashing. Byrin barely pauses

the Bizantin, Alyris’ Warriors have lessened the numbers considerably, and now all that’s left are smaller groups of blue-clad fighters, pressing togeth

for which becomes apparent as a volley of arrows blazes from the tree line, striking the

their vessels. Their lack of manpower is made even more apparent when only two of the five ships limp out o

shout insults after the retreating ships; a pair launch themselves at each other and start a friendly fight, feet digging tren

and of his trousers, plucking the pencil from the knot at the back of h

nemies are getting worn down, or the Alyrisin are getting stronger. T

es are at one and a half, because Nyke is favoring her right leg. The only f

sustained more losses. Not many more, but more. By one. Regardless, it was a successful defense, and he’s sure that tonight’s celeb

ose around his collar, and Selmas