Warm blood began to soak into her clothing as the wound throbbed.
“Kat!” Finn shouted, realising what had happened. He did not have time to consider running back for his sister, however, as Edrick pulled a flail up from the weapon rack beside him and charged straight at the prince.
The spiked ball at the end of the flail came flying from overhead with enough force to easily break a skull.
Finn, luckily, heard Edrick charge and the rattling chain, and was able to react in time. He locked on to the spiked head coming straight for his face before leaping out of the way.
Edrick clumsily swung again, knocking over a plated suit of armour with a crash.
At the same time, Ser Arthus marched like an armoured troll on the other side of the table towards Trish. Sword drawn, he pointed it’s tip in her direction, resting the blade against his raised forearm in a defensive posture, ready for anything.
“Come with me, my lady. Let this end,” Arthus demanded, the clashing of swords nearly drowning him out.
Finn continued engaging Edrick, striking a clumsy blow towards the flail-wielding killer which the assailant easily dodged.
Finn regained his footing and straightened his posture, parrying several hits from the menacing flail. The prince refused to land a blow, however, waiting for the right opening to take Edrick down without killing him.
Trish took some steps back from the approaching High Sword before realising she needed another weapon. She looked to her side at the weapon rack, grabbing the closest thing she could reach- a shortsword.
“I don’t think that’s gonna do much damage to me, my lady,” Ser Arthus said, whacking his thick metal chest plate with his free fist. “Surrender now and I will spare you.”
Ser Arthus was only mere steps away from Trish. She smirked at Arthus, throwing the shortsword at his feet as if to yield, before reaching back and grabbing another weapon instead. This time she wielded an intimidating morning star with a long haft and spiked club at the end.
“How about this?” Trish asked sarcastically. “This’ll surely break that fancy armour.”
Trish lunged forward with a scream, swinging wildly with her morning star. Ser Arthus appeared to be an easy target for her, being much older and far larger than she. Yet the talented man simply side-stepped each crazed strike Trish made like it was nothing.
Katryna struggled up from her knees, pulling the dagger out from her bleeding shoulder. She winced at the pain shooting through her arm and chest.
Looking up, Katryna saw two separate melees, as Finn engaged Edrick, and Ser Arthus attempted to seize Trish.
Edrick made large swings with the flail. Finn was careful to keep his eye locked on that spiked ball and chain, lest he suffer a gruesome injury.
Finn held his sword pointed at Edrick. However, he did not risk getting it wrapped in the chain of the flail and being disarmed. Instead, Finn took his time to dodge each wild strike that Edrick made like his disciplined training had taught as a child.
Edrick brought the flail down yet again, this time smashing it into the floor. The spiked ball lodged into the wooden floorboards so hard that the planks shattered and cracked.
Finn took two steps forward, maintaining a defensive stance until he saw a good chance to strike.
As Edrick tried but failed to dislodge the flail’s spiked ball from the wood, Finn stabbed at him to Edrick’s surprise.
Finn was careful to not deliver a killing blow. The tip of the sword lodged into Edrick’s shin, ripping through his pants, and carving a large chunk of flesh from the bone.
Edrick screamed in agony at the wound, falling forwards and clutching at his bleeding leg as the strip of flesh dangled having nearly been severed. But the strike only seemed to anger him more.
Edrick huffed and screamed, ripping the spiked ball free from the floor, and rushing at Finn yet again with his hand raised, ready to swing. Finn took the opportunity to surprise Edrick, seeing his midsection was vulnerable.
Though instead of lunging at his attacker like he had just done, Finn launched forward and tackled Edrick before he could even bring the flail down. Edrick was swept off his feet and thrown backwards one of the weapon racks.
The wooden rack splintered and snapped, and the assortment of weapons crashed to the ground around the two brawling men in a mess of metal and debris.
Ser Arthus met another of Trish’s attacks with his sword, causing sparks to fly. She used both hands with the morning star as it was quite large for her small frame, but Arthus only required one hand for his sword.
He leant forward as their weapons met mid-air, punching Trish straight in the nose with his gauntleted fist. Trish stumbled backwards with a bleeding nose. Strands blonde hair dangling over her face grew red.
To Arthus’s surprise, she began to laugh, wiping her bloody nose with a hand and licking the red from her lips.
“You bastard. That all you got?”
Trish did not waiver. She attacked yet again, hitting the morning star’s spiked end against Arthus’s side. Luckily, his armour was thick enough to absorb most of the blow, however it was painful enough to cause him to groan and stagger.
Trish pulled the morning star back. Clear punctures had been left in the metal. She smashed it down again, but Arthus regained his composure and hit the haft with his sword as she came at him, causing Trish stumble.
Katryna stood against the table bleeding, unsure of what she could do to help. But after a moment of doubt, she realised there was nothing she could do- she had to let others help her for once.
Finn and Edrick scrambled through the pile of weapons on the floor on their
