Serenity

"Serenity" Benneseph

The woman who has gone by the name Rode removed her helm. The heat of the day and effort of battle was making it hard to see and doubly difficult to manage with a helm donned. This made her nervous, leaving herself exposed, particularly against such a tall opponent. She had hoped against hope that the majority of the remaining Shaahesk warrior caste were slashlings. She had hoped most of the veterans had been cut down alongside Dro'Mek'Esh but then she recalled even if that had been the case -SHE- was deep behind enemy lines now, she and the other members of the multinational strike force tasked with killing the Voivode and to be certain the Voivode's retinue would not be composed of slashlings.

Fatigue and the strain of constant battle was wearing on her as it was on them all. Each face surrounding her was a person of nearly mythic skill and capacity and she felt pride in their company and would surge with strength from her sense of duty to nation and to comrade to feel justified in her place beside them. Even still, with such skill and preparation and morale so high that it soared above like the birds there was desperation, there was doubt.

It was revealed after they had encountered a vanguard of the Voivodes own guard, and bested them, that the enemy meant to swarm them and did have the means to do so. Great dragons with which they were allied had been breaking up their formations, keeping the enemy unable to manage more than a trickle against them. A familiar and immense Limestone dragon rose to address draconic threat, to make the shaahesk reserve guard effective again, to allow the wyverns to take flight and support them. Swiftly these dragons sought out their allies to join them in battle against the Limestone and off they went. Her entire command. Warmaster, Rangermaster, Woodmaster off to the skies gloriously on draconic mounts and now she had a problem.

The shaahesk reserve guard, the Voivodes own were bearing down on their position. All around her Kurathene Immortals, Vanoviel's Own Champions of O'Ma and M'Chekian heavy infantry pressed back to keep the sides of the enemy torrent from spilling through their ranks, encircling them and ending the mission of the strike team in disaster. The shaahesk would not stand quietly aside however and great waves of them would pour in after the strike team. Each person would be overwhelmed by numbers and obliged to withdraw to recover. Each person would be pursued then find some respite and seek to aid his comrades.

For her part she was no different. Her short stature as a half-nanshin would draw some in with overconfidence and her high guard stance would absorb much of the fury of their blows. In return her sword would be pulled down in mighty strokes into their armor and occasionally find purchase with devastating effect to which she had hoped would give the enemy pause. Make him quail. Some did, most couldn't notice anything special within the din of battle and so close a fight. She too would be obliged to withdraw, recover and rejoin her comrades.

These comrades, this was the point. She was no egoist, the presence of allies was the virtue that would win this day, she was sure of it. She kept her eyes on Jwol of Elysia having taken a draconic shape he was a stone the waves of shaahesk would break against, and the stubborn and acid tongued Blackguard Silver, her friend Brigadier Beign and her fellow Lenofaythen, Gurkz. Each of these and others as well delivering vicious pain and death upon the enemy in droves but in double droves the enemy pressed on, broke them apart and hunted them down singly while they sought respite to recover.

Finally she started to see how they were too eager to seek any contact, they had been swept in by the chaos of battle and it was probably too late to rally in order but she had an idea. With a wand she had bought to reduce the severity of the enemy blows she ran with hasted speed, breath tearing from her and began enchanting each of these heroes and herself as well. Somehow no one else had this enchantment. Somehow her meticulous sense of desperation in preparedness has paid off. She was cheered, this would turn this battle, she knew it! Diminished in offense the egoist, self important mass of individuals crumbled. Man for man the heroes of the south were their betters in every way and now they had the capacity to resist the enemies blows to boot.

Under the firm eyes of the M'Chekian leadership and the steel corded muscles of every southern hero present, a true and effective formation collected itself organically and each pocket of the hated enemy that opposed them was torn to pieces with furious determination and precision. They stood and caught their breath, mopping their brows and watched the Limestone finally begin to be forced down. A M'Chekian infantryman broke into a trot and was approaching, cradling a deeply gashed arm, she stopped him and applied some medicine, allowing him enough use of it to return to his duty in the short time that they had. She asked him if he was okay and when he replied that he was she responded with her old personal joke.

"Then I am Serene."

She thought to herself "There really is no further point in not sharing my full name with my comrades."