With Ezekiel dead and them being outnumbered, it was already bad enough—but to top it all off, they still had that commander to deal with.
Talmir had an especially hard time now. He had to protect Teclos on his back while dodging the lightly injured Ba'hraka, who wore a wide grin on his face, as if he had just eaten a delicacy and was about to enjoy another.
Talmir had to move constantly, dodging left and right. Spikes formed where he would have landed had he not altered his course just at the right time. The spear whizzed past his head as the orc closed in on him, spikes flew toward him, pitfalls formed all around him.
It was a mental battle—staying ahead of the orc's tricks and traps. And of course, he had to do it cleanly, because his son was literally strapped to him, and he couldn't afford even the smallest mistake.
