Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-19164168-20170720113953/@comment-24736819-20170816152656

"Save your magicka for the teleport!", Ash replied, "And as I said, stay behind me and teleport me when possible...those 3 dozens are about to be butchered."

Some devilish glint could be seen in the redguard's eyes as he begun to work their way through the falmer. He was methodical and accurate, never once making a move that did not ended up with a pale corpse in his path. Ash'Shabar was a painter with the scimitar, a dancer as he swiftly moved through their ranks parrying and slashing. The falmer's blood was his paint and the ground beneath their feet, his canvas.

The redguard seemed to be lost in a battle trance, making shor work of the falmer, chaurus and dwemer animunculi that dared cross his path. Knowingly, he was cutting his way towards the Centurion and consequently to the very core of the falmer's forces. The creature prevented him from tiring, but he'd feel its effects later. In a matter of seconds, half of those pale and deformed creatures that stood between Edwin and the Centurion were nothing more than lifeless vessels across the ground.

Ash hoped that they were far enough, because if he kept going something bad could happen, such as lose the element of surprise against the big, steam-blowing animunculi.