Lance goggled at the horde pouring through the streets as Halm shoved the wagon back past the gate, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The new Outworlder lay flat in the wagon bed, her breathing shallow but steady. She would be safe in here, but not if they couldn't defend this point. The potential anguish that Hoplite and Michael would feel if she died strengthened her desire to protect this woman, though Lance didn’t know her. In truth, they could all die here… Oh who was she kidding?

Death would be a lucky outcome if they couldn’t hold off the Fiends.

Halm huffed and turned, slamming a fist into his open palm with a sneer. The sound was like a hammer hitting an anvil, indicating that, like Tuji, the Fiend possessed steel flesh. It was both a relief and a terror to have to fight beside this creature, if his pains became too great then Halm would turn against the party… yet he wouldn't be attacked by the incoming horde, as he was one of them, and even if he did, his steel flesh would protect him from their blows.

Despite that, they couldn’t rely on him to stop the horde from overrunning their position, the Fiends wouldn’t be drawn to attack him as they did Hoplite, and Halm wouldn’t be able to stop them all. The best thing to do would be to fight and hope they could last, and with her chains, she’d be able to hold her own.

She just needed to find out how they worked first.

Lance hopped down from the wagon, drawing her blades, her breathing shaky. She was nervous of course, facing a horde of fiends on the bridge was one thing, but an entire city's worth was a tad above her paygrade. She’d not run away now though, she’d not hide in the back and be a burden.

The rest of the party, save for Michael and Elum, quickly dismounted the wagon, forming a line in front of the vehicle. Lance herself ended up toward the middle, beside Twindil, the paladin’s massive greatsword drawn as she glared forward, a look of grim determination set on her face.

Lance’s blades felt heavier than they normally did, due to the extra weight clinging to her forearms. This would slow her significantly unless they unraveled to defend her, and she dearly hoped that was how they would work. As soon as she had the thought, the first of the Fiends staggered around the corner of the gate, roaring angrily as they charged directly for them. Halm batted them aside with his massive fists, their bones reduced to powder as they went flying across the cobbles, their flesh scraping off until they finally collided with one of the two open doors of the gate with a splat.

She readied herself as the crowd grew from tens, to hundreds, Halm unable to keep up the the sheer volume of creatures pouring through. He still battered away at the beasts wildly, sending them flying to collide with other bodies with wet crunches. A large glowing green ball then flew over her head, landing a dozen paces in front of the battle line with a splash. A green liquid sizzled where it had impacted, and every Fiend that stepped foot on it screamed in agony before falling directly into it, their skin melting off and blending into the flesh eating acid.

This toppled a dozen of the monsters, and still Elum hucked out more acid, forming a line between their group and the incoming horde. While that happened, Alistair chanted, summoning forth the angel Baomiel in a burst of Golden Flame. The creature cracked its human neck, its ape-like lower arms hurling it forward to crash directly into the nearest Fiends. It was like watching a gorilla smashing into a crowd of goblins.

The others began their shares of the fighting too, Michael taking shots from the wagon, Nolvi beside him staring at the horde with her strange version of Dok-ah, Alistair swinging his hammer, Kid’ka dodging and swiping as Lance herself did… Everyone fought, save for the new Outworlder and old Theopalu. He’d never been this useless when he was still on duty back in the Faewood, so why did he laze about this way now!?

Any negative thoughts toward her colleague was interrupted when finally a Fiend reached her, arms outstretched with palms wide open, its gnarled fingers seeking to rip the skin from her face. She steeled her nerves and waited for the chains to take effect, her terror briefly overtaken by her curiosity. Would they lash out? After the creature came within five paces, she found that they had left Lance to die on her own, apparently unwilling to do their damn purpose! She slashed through the creature's hands, parting the palms from the fingers and sending it into screeching agony.

It collapsed in front of her, weeping for its fresh agony. Quickly she stomped on its temple, the bone crunching inward and making the monster still. It didn’t kill it of course, but any body needed a brain to move, cursed or no. Despite the thought, the twitching corpse still undulated in her general direction. The sight was nearly enough to make her gag, but her time fighting with Hoplite had toughened her guts somewhat. Still, no brain should have meant no motion… right?

Then again, Michael seemed to function just fine without one, so who knew?

She shook her head. Wise cracks weren’t going to get these chains to work. If they didn’t work automatically, then perhaps she needed to will them to move? Lance focused, trying to make the metal links slither free from her arms… only for nothing to happen. They hadn’t moved at all during the entire time they’d been bonded to her, save for when they first crawled upon her limbs.

Twindil had suggested that it could seek to serve Lance differently then it did Tolak… but what else would these things be good for? She grunted as she cut down another few Fiends, the weight of the chains hindering her blows. Why wasn’t it working? They had ‘chosen’ her right? So why did they refuse to work!? It was almost enough to make her want to cry in frustration; of course as soon as a way to catch up with the others presents itself, it turns out to be useless.

Just like her.

Lance’s teeth grit as she dismissed the thought. Self-pity had no place on the battlefield. Her shoulders began to burn the further she fought, the muscles unused to the added weight of her swings. Soon she was huffing and puffing, face red with effort and frustration as she both struggled to stay alive and figure out how to use the chains. She found herself with her back to the wagon, leaving her space in the battle line blank. Twindil moved to fill the space as much as she could, her greatsword a whirlwind as she bisected every challenger. She barely looked fatigued at all, even fighting with that weighty blade and clad in plate-armor she was indefatigable.

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Relief flooded her as well as shame. She was safe and could take a short breather… yet that only made the burden on the other front-liners greater. She cursed at the chains as the horde grew ever larger, the sound of gunfire drowning out everything save her own thoughts. The ringing in her ears was a familiar sensation now, it didn’t bother her in the slightest. What did bother her was taking this impromptu break while everyone risked their lives! She never should have taken these stupid things, she was more a burden then ever with them, they were just dead-weight.

Just like-

Her face hardened and she stood tall, taking another breath before readying herself to dive into the fray. Before she could do that however, she saw something… flying overhead right over the horde. No one else looked up to see it, being too busy with the foe before them. At first, she didn’t know what she was looking at, but as it drew closer, terror and realization both filled her. There were Fiends that could fly!

The creature bore down on her, its feet seeming to strike the air to keep it aloft. Almost as if it were jumping on the air itself. It seemed more put together then its lesser comrades below, its movements more calculated. If she didn’t see the purplish skin, she’d almost think it wasn’t a Fiend. It’s gaze landed squarely on Lance, locking eyes with hers.

Now that it was closer it could she that it grinned, a nasty smile filled with yellowing teeth. She could read malevolence in its borderline-lucid eyes, that, and the pure desire in its gaze. It seemed that it had made her out to be an easy target. She gripped her blades tightly in her hands as it kicked off of nothing, catapulting itself toward her with furled fingers, ready to rend. It sped toward her like a bullet, air filling its cheeks and sending them flapping as it let out a shrill scream.

This was it, she needed to move now; if she couldn’t get her arms up in time, she was finished.

Instinct took over, and… somehow, the chains began to shift. Instead of moving to knock the creature out of the air however, they wrapped around the hilts of her daggers, holding them firmly in place. Without thought, she hurled the blades toward the beast, not with her arms, but with her will. The tips of both blades pierced the creature's shoulders, and its face went from victorious, to agonized. She focused her will again, but also grabbed onto the chains, yanking them down forcefully and bringing the Fiend plummeting down to the stones below.

Just before impact, the blades retracted from the things shoulders with a wet pop, and its head hit the ground right in front of her. The skull was pulverized into a gory paste, the force traveling up the neck and snapping it backward before the spine too gave way, cracking and forcing the body to fold in half. It fell over unceremoniously in the puddle of gore it had created, twitching.

She had expected to feel disgust at the mess she’d made of the Fiend… but in truth, she only felt one thing. A grin spread across her face as she moved toward the crowd, the chains firm around the hilts of her blades once again. She threw the blades forth again, impaling another Fiend before they retracted back to her hands.

She felt…

Twindil spared a glance behind her for an instant, her eyes going wide as she saw Lance’s face. The blades launched passed the paladin again, each one impaling a face before again they returned to her, and she lashed out again moving forward, into the battle-line. Here she could be more free to swing them about. She swung her arms horizontally, the chains whipping into the crowd of Fiends, the links clotheslining dozens of them as the blades parted the flesh of those at the end of its reach. Suddenly there was a massive gap now, about thirty paces worth… more room for her to experiment. She moved forward, past the battle-line. Twindil said something, as did some of the others but… Lance couldn’t understand them.

She felt… euphoric.

She swung more, harder, more intensely, the chains and blades clearing a valley between the wagon and the gate. The hundreds that had poured in were soon on the ground, with broken bones and severed limbs. Somehow, she was aware that her blades were changing too, though she knew not how or why. They whipped about her like a dervish, aided by her pulling the chains in the directions she desired. All was a blur of purple, red, and gray around her, bodies collapsing, flesh tearing, her weapons singing in sync with her heart, all while that smile never left her face.

“I can keep up now!” She laughed as a skull was bisected, “Won’t be a loose-leaf anymore!”

More of the jumping Fiends appeared, but those were handled much the same as the first, her blades cleaving them out of the air and making it rain dark blood around her. She swung, she killed, she laughed. Was this what Hoplite felt like fighting these things, knowing that no matter what they couldn’t hurt him? It was so invigorating! The fighting seemed to last forever, the chains finding fresh victims every time a new monster rounded the corner. Soon the battle-line was behind her, and empty…

She had taken on all the work with ease, now the others could take a break. They still tried to approach, likely to try and assist her with the fighting, but the whipping blades likely made them wary. She didn’t want to hurt anyone by accident… so it was for the best that they stay back. Eventually, the waves stopped pouring in from the open gate of Akan-Var, and Lance found herself heaving, drenched with sweat and covered head to toe in dark blood.

As the euphoria faded with the end of the fighting, she found herself shaking, her legs wobbling as they struggled to hold her aloft. The chains may have done the majority of the fighting, but she had still had to swing them by the ends of the chains. The exhaustion of the conflict had been completely suppressed by the joy she’d felt. Now that it was the end, she was made all too aware of how tired she was.

A pit was in her stomach, her throat ached for water, her muscles demanded rest, and her lungs burned as she sucked in as much air as was possible. Her vision started to narrow as a figure entered her view, towering over her.

“Lance?” Hoplite asked, his monotone carrying an undertone of concern.

“I did it.” She replied after a moment, “It didn’t take that long, huh?”

“It's been an hour.” He told her before she fell backward, her legs refusing to hold her upright any longer.

A massive hand caught her before she could collide with the stones, and Lance felt herself being hoisted upward.

Now two of those massive hands held her, and she heard him say “Are you injured?”

Lance smiled, “Not in the slightest, just tired.”

“Affirmative.” He replied, “I’ll take you back to the wagon and get you some water.”

“You’d make for a good butler, you know that?” She told him between ragged breaths, “Or maybe a knight? A knight who takes care of the ladies…ha”

“You’re delirious.” He replied, “You’ll need a drink and some calories, and I’ll ask Twindil to have a look at you.”

She smiled and leaned her head back in the crook of his elbow, content to let him dote on her.