The clash of metal echoed all around; soldiers on both sides fought for the upper hand, but neither would yield.
CLANG! CLANG!
A soldier from the Hall family raised his shield. The steel of the spear struck it once, twice, three times, each blow denting the metal, snapping the arm behind it, until the shield fell and the spear pierced his open mouth as he screamed, his cry turning into bubbles.
Beside him, the rest of the group had arrived.
A Migzar soldier, his visor shattered, wielded his two-handed axe as if he were chopping wood.
The first blow split a shield in half and continued until it lodged in the chest from behind. As he pulled back, he tore out broken ribs that hung from the blade for a moment before falling into the mud.
Another, the largest of them all, with no weapon other than a mace, swung it in short, devastating arcs. Each blow sent a mass of flesh crashing to the ground.
