Derik blinked his eyes open. The jaws of the spider positioned to end his life moments earlier had been repelled. He looked down and found his arms held close to his chest, gripping the halberd tightly.

"I guess the two years doing drills did have practical applications," he said.

The spider quickly regained its footing and charged headfirst at Derik taking rapid swipes. The haft of the halberd propelled its way to match each oncoming blow. Derik's arms were almost moving on their own to block incoming attacks; Instinct from getting hit by dull weapons fueled his movements as he defended from its assault.

He could feel the recoil from the spider's blows in his shoulders. While it wasn't too difficult to block the strikes, Derik knew he couldn't keep it up forever. His arms began to ache from the pressure of the blows, and he could hear a soft crunching in the wood handle of his halberd. The sharp claws of the spider were the most intimidating part, but the weight behind each of the strikes was the real danger. The sheer blunt force would inevitably cause his weapon to splinter. Or his bones, that too. He knew that if the flow of battle didn't change soon, it would be bad news. He would find himself transported to another place for a second time, likely underneath the ground.

The spider drew back and focused its two middle eyes on Derik. He took this brief lull in the spider's attacks to collect himself. He could try to use the range of his weapon to keep the spider at bay, but risking his only lifeline in this infested city getting knocked out of his grasp wasn't a particularly enticing idea.

"Wait a second," Derik thought. "Sure, the weight behind the attacks is giving them a lot of punch, but maybe I can use that same weight against it."

Derik stood at the ready. A tense few seconds passed, then he saw his chance. The spider leaned forward and struck down with both of its front claws, likely intending to strike the finishing blow.

"As good a plan as any," Derik reasoned. As soon as his halberd contacted the spider's claws, he shifted the weight and slipped over to the side. Using the spider's restricted movement in the alley and its unbalanced stance following its deflected attack, he transitioned the momentum from his move into an upwards thrust with his weapon. The tip of the halberd made a sticking squelch as it lodged itself directly into the forehead of the spider.

The spider lashed out in pain and backhanded Derik back across the alley. The gambeson seemed to have absorbed most of the blunt impact, but his breath was knocked from him as he hit the hard cobblestones. The screeches coming from the spider unnerved him as he stumbled back on his feet. He could see its puke-green blood slowly leak out through the gaps in the stones. He was too afraid to finish it off. The screeches slowly faded to a halt, and Derik leaned against the wall of the ally. He slid down the wall. Derik felt a tinge of triumph quickly overshadowed by the growing sense of hopelessness at his situation.

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After taking a moment to catch his breath, Derik tried to get back up and return to his original plan, getting out of this godforsaken city. He could hear the sounds of fighting in the distance getting closer. He had no time to lose. Derik began to move his leg. It vehemently disobeyed his orders and stood limp sprawled out by the alley. His hands were shaking, and he began to feel pain sprout all over his chest.

The melodies of battle edged closer. Closer. Closer. The exit to the alley had was once again cloaked in shadow. This time, however, it was one of a humanoid figure.

A man dressed in a navy blue brigandine approached and turned to look down the alley. A grey cloak draped down just below his knees. A plate tournament helmet obstructed the face of the person, but the relative quality of the armor signaled their identity. Only the captain of the guard has such a distinct look.

Derik's muscles tensed. His breaths became irregular. This is not at all the help he hoped for.

"There is no way. He really come all this way to deliver my punishment?"

The punishment for desertion is death. He heard the crunch of heavy boots against gravel.

"No, that's impossible. There is way too much going on right now."

The footsteps edged closer. Derik could tell Montag loomed over him now. He braced himself.

"Lift your head soldier."

Derik obeyed.

"Ah, hail Derik!" Montag boomed. "You are a model soldier, rushing to help the citizenry without a second thought, putting yourself directly on the front lines. I will ensure you are commended for your bravery after this battle."

Derik let out the breath he held in his lungs. He knew he had escaped punishment for the moment, yet in his heart, it didn't feel as if he had. All manner of monstrous creatures roamed the streets, and if the captain was here instead of leading—that certainly didn't bode well for the defense of the rest of the city.

"Can you move?"

Derik strained his body once more, but his legs were still unsteady.

"No."

"Alas, it is quite dangerous around here. Fortunately for you, I won't allow someone that has been graced by my presence knell over in my sight. It would absolutely ruin my reputation; hence, I have taken the liberty of getting you out of here."

"Well, thanks for your concern," Derik replied.

Derik had a few questions, but this seemed neither the time nor place to fulfill his sense of curiosity. They stood there in tense silence for seconds.

Montag knelt down, "I guess I'll just have to make good on my promise by carrying you."

Montag hoisted Derik over his shoulders.

"Your strength is commendable and all…" Derik said, "But can you put me down. I would like to be left with some amount of dignity."

"Oh yes, right."

Montag placed Derik down and slung his arm over his shoulder.

"Well, let's get out of here, post haste. The plaza should be clear enough for us to make our escape. Keep your guard up Derik. I will have trouble defending you as we are now."

"Duly noted. Let's get going then."