The creatures began to panic, all too aware that now the odds were most definitely against them. Their leader desperately cried out to them to stay, bellowing such oaths that Dauphin was glad she didn't speak the tongue of Cardac.
For all his threats, they were beaten, fleeing into the trees and leaving their sergeant to face the woman and her faelan alone.
Dauphin smiled a litle smile, hoping to cover the fact that she was feeling pretty weak from the blow to her shoulder. Her sole remaining enemy was large, and in her present condition he might actually present a few problems. If possible, she'd prefer it if he were to run with the rest of his squad.
He was made of sterner stuff, however. He screamed a war cry as he charged heedlessly towards her, all his previous calm lost in mindless battle-lust. He fought with two curved scimitars, and it took all of her considerable skill to avoid being decapitated by his strikes.
Then she returned with attacks of her own, and he was hard pressed to fend her off. This was where he would learn what it truly meant to be a warrior. How long had he fought for, she wondered? She knew that they trained them young in Cardac, but she had been fighting all of her life, and her experiences were not drill practices. She had learned through life or death encounters every day since her birth, and no jumped up little soldier boy could beat her. He attacked more hastily and with less skill as the fight went on, doubtless seeing his death in the very near future. When her blade tore across the muscles of his right arm, tipping him to the ground, it semed as if this would indeed come to pass.
Dauphin levelled her bloodied sword at him where he lay. He dropped his second weapon, and looked up at her. There was fear in his eyes, and he was defenceless. She could let him go. But this was war, and there could be no prisoners taken. After what his kind had put her through over the years, did he really deserve mercy?
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