Paul had enough. He wasn’t going to stand around and watched some poor girl get raped! The—Hyadons—were busy looking inwards at the entertainment. There was one near the edge that strayed just a little too far back.
Okay, just like in the sprints. I can do this.
Exploding from behind the back of the tree, he charged towards the lone guard. He crossed the distance in seconds, smashing his fist deep into the gut of the man and practically lifting him off his feet into the brush. He started to fold, loosening his grip on the small war-axe he held. Paul noticed it in much the same manner as the motions; at high speed he moved normally while his opponents seemed to be moving through jelled air. He snagged the axe before it could fall away and left his crumpled opponent behind a bush.
To Dull Knife, it seemed as if a strange blur had come from the dark forest and swallowed one of his men. A startled shriek was all he heard before Prol’at vanished.
“What happened?” He barked. The others called out the same question or moved towards the spot, weapons out.
“Find him! Kill that…that blur!” His shout turned to a shriek of fear and amazement as the blur came again and bashed into another of his men, with a smaller blur at another. One vanished into the ground with the attacker while the other groaned and collapsed, a savage cut in the middle of his leather jerkin. All Dull Knife had seen of the attacker was an impression of a slender, feline form, gold and black.
“What is this?” he howled with rage, jerking the prisoner off the ground. She gasped and choked, her tiny fist beating ineffectually against his arm. He ignored her efforts and pulled back, arching her back painfully. She gave up and groaned in pain.
“Who did you send into the woods!” he shouted at her.
Whump! Whump! He jerked up just in time to see another two of his men collapse, struck senseless or dead, he wasn’t sure.
“What is happening?!” He growled in frustration, turning this way and that to even see his enemy before it struck. He drew his Warhammer and held it expertly, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Come on!” He roared, stepping onto the chest of the slave. He applied pressure to make her gasp and wheeze. “Face me! Or watch her die!
Written by Snore23 on 31 May 2017