The knight falls.

[Harbor]

Rella felt her foot connect with relief, felt the shifting of muscles, bone and cartilage through the thin leather sole of her boot. She tried not to maim him permanently, but William was a soldier—his muscles and bones were inherently stronger than hers, so she didn’t have to expend as much effort as another man would have. She knew from observation how crotchety disabled knees could become in the following years.

She felt his shield drop, the muscle in his arm faltering for the barest of moments, but that was all she needed. She went to stomp on his foot again and gripped the edge of his shield, yanking it out and exposing the chest and arm beneath. As she hauled on the shield, she slashed for the bone of his forearm, avoiding the arteries in the wrist, and threw her weight and prayers behind a strike that might nick his lung but would miss all necessary organs if she’d delivered it properly. The chance of a lung infection, she believed, he would prefer to the likelihood of death, even if he thought he was dying already.

[Nandon]

William blinked as his shield was suddenly gone, Had he given her the opportunity to do such a thing? Yes. But had he expected her to rip his shield away? No. He was slashed upon the arm, And then stabbed in the chest, He winced heavily and swung his short sword at her, Trying to hit her in the side as she pulled away from the cut, It wouldnt cut her if it did hit because he had of course dulled the blade earlier, But the blunt force of such a blow would easily be able to break/Crack a rib or two.

[Harbor]

It had worked. Rella yanked her dagger out of him as quickly and as smoothly as she could, trying not to cut him any further with the return journey. They would have a hard enough time, she assumed, putting him back together when no one was looking than if his body had to suffer more injuries than it needed to complete the circulation of the drug and of the assumption of his demise. She watched attentively, body still alert for his return attack, waiting to see the numbness spread, which she would only be able to observe from the expression on his face as he realized what was happening.

William curved his arm and brought his heavier blade back around. She was too close to escape the swing entirely but just close enough that the blow shouldn't kill her. The angle of her blade made her suck in her breath in alarm--it was angled to cut, not to parry, and out of instinct she threw up both of her arms, daggers still fisted, to prevent the blade from taking her in the torso.

It connected evenly across her forearms, and as she felt the bones both fracture she realized also that her skin had remained unbroken. Sneaky William, for putting the wards on his blades. Those had come in handy, she admitted. Perhaps not all magic was to be outright feared. Either way the force of the blow threw her back and she skidded to one knee, folding her arms in to her chest and trying not to clench the muscles around the damaged bones. Righting herself, she watched William closely again. She couldn't fight him like this. She knew he wouldn't force the fight, but she was the only one she could trust to finish it--she prayed the drugs would make their way through him quickly, so he wouldn't have to worry again until he woke up and wondered what the hell kind of trickery she'd managed this time.

[Nandon]

William grunt and watched her fly, Perhaps he had hit her a bit harder than he had meant to, He slowly staggered to his feet, Alarm begining to fill him as he felt a numbness creeping into the tips of his fingers. "What the devil..." He muttered before shaking his head, He staggered back and took up a ready position incase she tried to rush him again.

[Harbor]

Rella's arms were throbbing as though they meant to implode, but she kept her distance and shook her head, pretending she could shake the pain out of her mind like the mud off a dog. She could see the confusion creeping through him now. "I'm sorry, William," she gasped. "I didn't want you to be in pain." When William forced himself back into position, she took another wary step back, just in case. She shook her head, chuckling weakly to herself. Her head was starting to fill with air. "What a sight this is, eh?" Perhaps that wasn't the politest way to make her observation, but she was in top form no longer. But two people staggering away from each other and neither capable of attacking the other anymore would be funny to them later, when everyone else understood the joke. For now they probably just looked tragic, because all Rella could do now was wait for it to look like William had died. And pray that neither Brenton nor Isrydia stepped forward to supposedly end his suffering.

[Nandon]

William blinked and ran his tongue over his lips, He was suddenly panting...And the numbness was begining to spread, He was finding it harder and harder to suck in air with each breath. So this is what death feels like. William thought to himself, The numbness by this point encompassed both his hands and was spreading up his arms and down into his legs, The sword dropped from his grip, He looked down briefly at the sword and reached down for it, But the numbness caused him to fall forward and down the bear went. He winced and rolled over. looking up at the sky.

[Harbor]

William's fingers loosened, letting his sword slip through to the grass, and Rella sighed. Finally. Poor man. She had hoped that the drug would be much faster than this. Things she didn't understand were what frightened Rella the most--she couldn't imagine what frightened a soldier, but she imagined he would have a fear that at least was similar. She hadn't wanted him to have time to be afraid. But he would understand later, and that comforted her.

When he finally dropped, ignoring the others, Rella hurried to his side, dropping her own daggers--someone would pick them up for her, or she would, when someone put her arms back to rights. She thumped to her knees at William's side and leaned down to whisper in his ear, praying that no unseen observers could hear. It didn't matter what Brenton, Isrydia and Arlyn heard now. "You aren't dying, William. You won't feel a thing and no one else will feel a pulse, but I promise you'll wake up. You'll see us again soon."

[Nandon]

William blinked at Rella as he saw her come to his side, He heard her words, But when he tried to respond he found himself unable, His eyes however would reveal a dim understanding, He blinked twice, The universal sign of Okay. His heartbeat was begining to slow from the poison and he slowly closed his eyes as he 'Died'

[Brenton]

Brenton watched the fight all the way through, his body aching in pain as he made sure to keep from going in after Rella. For awhile she was doing well, he could tell, but then something happened that not even the king had expected. William swung his sword and Rella was too close and unable to parry so she used her arms to block the blow coming toward her. It was maddening to have to watch in fear of his wife losing her arms to a blade but instead they snapped like dry twigs under foot.

As the sound of breaking bones reached his ears, Brenton growled in anger, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and keep him from running in to avenge her. It was all the king could do but successfully he was able to sit there and glower at the fight until what looked to be a killing blow finally took it's toll. As Rella finished checking for a pulse, Brenton stood up and walked slowly over to her. He took her arms in his and pleaded mentally for her to allow him to heal the bones.

[Quetzal]

The fight was a true one, or so Isrydia and Arlyn thought, each party fighting for their lives, although she knew William well enough to know he would not want to hurt Rella permanently. They watched in a state of high tension, as if there was even a glimmer of hope that William would walk away from this alive. They both knew that even if he did manage to force Rella into submission, Brenton was then ready to step in to end it for real. He was unlikely to fail. She didn't want to consider what happened if he did - the fight might then turn to her, and she was not prepared to fight her friend and former master to the death. Never.

She winced and gasped as the tide of the battle shifted. When William was stabbed, she let out an involuntary "No!" although it sounded small and distant to her, as if all the strength in her had sank with her heart. She could hardly bear to watch, yet at the same time she couldn't tear her eyes away. She began shaking slightly, and Arlyn stretched a wing around her and pulled her to his side. He held her close to him, and she pressed herself against his warm scaly flank, seeking comfort. He whined and she realised how upset this was making him feel as well. It was some kind of dragon equivalent of crying, based on the misery floating about his head. William down quite yet, still having enough in him to deliver such a blow to Rella's arms it made Isrydia cringe to see.

Then he was slowing and Rella was backing off. The job was done. He sank down as Isrydia stared with wide eyes. No, no, this couldn't be happening. Not William. Not her knight. She ran to him shortly after Rella did, Arlyn doing nothing to hold her back from leaving his version of an embrace. He plodded forlornly after his Rider, making another miserable whimpering whine, head low to the ground, eyes sad. Isrydia knelt beside William on the side not already taken up by Rella, though Brenton had already started to try interacting with her in some way. She felt angry at him for caring more about Rella's broken arms, something that would repair themselves, than William dying, but that was pushed to one side as her sadness overwhelmed her. She took William's wrist and for a moment froze in anticipation. There was a pulse. A faint one, but... no. It grew more and more faint. When it stopped altogether, she didn't let go, as if desperate for it to start up again. Tears made their way down her cheeks and this time she didn't care about anyone seeing. She hunched over William's lifeless body, looking at him carefully, half making sure his image would not leave her memory, half searching for any sign this was not really happening. She tried to speak, to say goodbye, but she was unable to say anything more than an unintelligible sob.

[Harbor]

Rella was concentrating hard on drawing the air around her all the way through her mouth, down her throat, into her belly and back out, so she wouldn’t let herself think too much about the twitching, tingling feeling in her arms that she noticed around the pain. Thank goodness William knew wards—perhaps her thoughts on magic could be revised to permit them at least. Brenton slid to his knees before her and gently took up her arms, and at his solemn expression felt a smile flickering dazedly around the corners of her lips. ”I’ll permit it this time,” she managed tightly. ”I may even appreciate it.”

She hadn’t expected to feel the magic working—she’d thought all of a sudden her arms would just be mended. Flinching involuntarily she paid close attention as she felt the musculature shifting away from the bones as they solidified again, the muscles filling back into their habitual wellness, bent and broken blood vessels fusing back together. When it was over with she sighed, relieved that she wouldn’t be stunted by her own incompetency for the next two months, and gave him a proper smile. ”Thank you.” There were spots of blood on his lip, so she reached up and brushed them away with her thumb.

But then to business. ”Arlyn,” she asked quietly, ”can you hear anyone in the vicinity of seeing or hearing us?” Are we alone? William’s heart had slowed enough that there was virtually no bleeding from the wounds she’d given him, but that wouldn’t last. She reached across the toppled soldier and tightly grasped Isrydia’s wrist, waiting until the tear-streaked woman looked up to smile secretly at her, in the way of women reassuring one another that their secrets would alleviate the other one’s pain, and they’d be let in on them soon.