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Barbarian's honor - "Battle!" Kolath exclaimed. It was as if he, as a boy, recieved that battle sword he wanted so dearly on his birthday. The very thought of a good fight made his heart beat faster with excitement. A pretty girl with untamed hair and firey eyes playfully punched him in the shoulder. She was the sort of woman who you could fantasize about, but if you told her those fantasies, you might end up with more then a broken leg or two. "Oh, brother," She chuckled, flipping her hair back. She wasn't using the overused statement 'oh, brother,' but in fact she was Kolath's sister. Which is obvious because if anyone punched him in the shoulder besides close family, you might have wished you told his sister about those fantasies. "Don't get too blood thirsty, we still haven't yet won the war." Kolath laughed in arrogance and mock. "Hah, Sikari, you think those Buyans still even have a chance? Well, with the way you were punching, they just might!" -- That got a laugh from a few of the men. To say Sikari punched like a girl would not only be an insult, but it would make you rethink about how hard girls could actually hit. Nobody insulted her strength and got away with it, even if it was playful banter. Sikari walked over to one of the chuckling men and punched him in the face. Hard. "Settle down, sister, settle down. Let's save it for the real fight," Kolath said, though his face still hinted a grin. "We think the Buyans will attack at the west, so we will flank them. Tomorrow blood will be spilled, and we will make townie scum think again then to invade our Wilderness!" the following day's battle. None of them thought there was a chance in you-know-where that they would lose. Perhaps they would win though, but not without sacrifice. <b> ~ Drums awoke Sikari, drums of battle and honor. Her clever eyes opened to the rising sun. "A good omen," She said, staring at it unblinkingly. The pack headed out to their destination in an uncerimoniously silent fashion. If they were to surprise their enemy, battle roars and stomping around wouldn't have been a good way to do it. But more unbarbarian like then their actions was getting hoodwinked on the way. Battle cries echoed in the air, both from the Buyans and the surprised Barbarians. The pack was surrounded, flanked from all sides, and chaos ensued. Clashes of metal, streaks of crimson, and cries of pain filled the air. Sikari stepped over the body of her cousin, his eyes open and empty on the ground. She bit her lip, wanting to cry out in despair and anguish for her dead relative, but instead picked up her War axe and slashed away at soldiers. She had sent more then her share to the spirit world before she actually opened her eyes to the scene and realise they were winning. Before a grin could form on her face, in the corner of her eye she saw an archer, aiming at the pack leader. Her scream to warn her brother was lost amidst the battle, and with a twang, the arrow flew towards Kolath's chest. Sikari jumped out in front of her brother, and Kolath was hit not by the arrow, but a shock of surprise as the trifling Buyan weapon hit his dear sister. <b> "Nooo!" Kolath screamed, his rage echoed and heard among <b> all on the field. He dropped to his knees, wanting to aid his fallen sister. Her eyes look glazed, on the verge of passing, before she uttered his name. She passed away in his arms, bleeding from the wound. Kolath pounded the ground uselessly in anger. The archer's head was disected from a throwing axe, but not before he could do damage to the hord. They had lost a great warrior, a leader, a beloved friend. The battle was won, but not without sacrifice. But Sikari's name grew into legend amongst the Barbarian's. She never really died on that fateful day, but lived among them all in memory. *Corsten* | |