“I don’t know who to pity more!,” Regn called over her shield. She stepped in and swiped at the foe before her with her sword. Then returned to the safety of her shield. “The dead or us.”
“Has anyone bothered to ask them their thoughts,” replied Wevyn, who stood with her staff pining a skeleton against the wall and her back to Regn. The creature fought and cursed and clacked at her, but was held at bay. Wevyn’s staff push the thing’s breastplate and the draugr within to the wall and held it there, while Wevyn herself kept her hands on the opposite end.
Regn’s shield shot forward. It caught the skeleton in the jaw, scattering it and teeth across the stone floor. The skeleton didn’t seem to notice. And the jaw kept quivering and chattering away. Regn followed up with a swing of the broadside of her blade to the knee. At this the skeleton jumped back. Only to try to stab at Regn with its spear.
She turned the thrust aside and said over her shoulder, “They don’t exactly give you time to parley.”
“Then maybe they’re not looking to talk, or attack,” offered Wevyn, “but are asking for the true death.”
“That my dear, I am more than happy to provide,” sang Regn. She swung her shield aside, casting the skeleton’s spear away. Spun in and chopped off the creature’s head. Then danced back and drove her sword into the other’s skull. Regn withdrew her sword and sheathed it before the remains of either skeleton had time to hit the floor.
Wevyn let the thing on the end of her staff slip to the floor and said, “What’s there to pity about us?”
Regn smiled and clapped her friend on the shoulder, “Nothing, once we have this treasure.” And with that she kicked aside the still chittering jaw bone and set off further into the barrow.
Today’s art is courtesy of Adrian Smith from Edinburgh, Scotland.