"Once you are on the field of battle, there are only two outcomes. Either you are a survivor, or you are a casualty of war." - Huang Ren-Gui, weapons instructor working directly for the Bone Lord, circa 40 VA.

Cressida Ulire was one of the youngest Death Guards. She was the descendant of Antemeian slaves, and the slight greenish tint to her skin, as well as the small tusks that jutted slightly outside her mouth hinted at the heritage of an orc somewhere up her family tree.

From a family of simple farmers, she had enrolled in the armed forces out of a desire to be more, to do more for her home country. Her parents used to tell stories of how orcs and their descendants were treated worse than other slaves in Antemeia, simply for the reason that the Spirit Servant, who used to rule over Junora, were usually of either orc or goblin descent, and their poor treatment was meant to be a slight against him.

She had excelled in her training, and when the chance was offered to be a member of the newly raised Death Guard, serving directly under the second son of the templar order's head, she had jumped at the chance, and earned her position through hard work and mettle.

Now at her first real battle, she realized just how much harder it was to fight people who truly intended to kill her compared to spars. To her credit, she had already slain four elves on that day, yet the fifth, older elf she faced gave her serious troubles.

Her older, but far more nimble opponent danced away from the strikes of her metal cudgel, while she struggled to to defend herself from his long and short blades that he wielded with much expertise and skill.

Cressida already bled from a multitude of cuts he had landed on her body, always aiming for the weak points between the joints of her armor, or at exposed areas, and she felt herself weaken slowly but surely.

One powerful swing from her cudgel was ducked under by the elf, and before she could recover from the swing, she felt the pain in her abdomen where the elf had stabbed her. The pain intensified when the blade was jerked out from her side, and she went down to her knees from the pain, cradling her innards that threatened to spill out from the tear in her stomach.

She coughed blood and looked up to see the elf staring down at her with a grin filled by sadistic satisfaction as he raised his longer blade up, about to deliver a blow that would end her life then and there.

A blow that never came because a staff suddenly slammed into the elf's left eye. The blow burst the older man's eyeball and cracked the socket, but had lacked the momentum to go further as it was a hasty strike right at the edge of its range.

Before Cressida's eye the metal staff was drawn out from the face of the elf just as he clutched his eye, whirled around, and came back down in a vertical swing. She finally got a good look at it and saw that it looked like a pole flail, yet had three sections to it.

This time the blow was far more forceful and carried plenty of momentum, and shattered the elf's head apart much like a ripe watermelon. Blood and bits of brain splattered Cressida's face, but she ignored them, and tried harder to hold her wound closed, even if she knew it would likely be futile.

At least that was her thought until a hand gently held the side of her neck and she felt warmth flush all over her injured body. The pain she felt vanished one by one, and after a while, while she still felt slightly weak, she was certain she would be able to fight some more.

"Are you all right now?" Asked a voice from beside her. Cressida turned to see Aideen's face next to her, one of her slender hands at the side of her neck, the other holding a heavy-looking three sectioned staff made of metal. One end of the staff still dripped with fresh blood from the old elf she had just killed when she saved Cressida.

"Yes, milady!" She said as she hastily saluted with one hand. She was surprised that the commander's younger sister - of whom circulated stories that she had already died before, and had since risen into unlife - actually came to the frontlines. Cressida had thought she would have stayed at the back with other healers.

But then again, the way Aideen had just killed the old elf was imprinted in the young Death Guard's mind, and she acknowledged that the young lady definitely knew how to take care of herself on the front lines.

"Can you still fight?" Asked Aideen as she stood up, having made sure that no injuries remained on the young woman's body. As for the blood she lost, there was not that much she could do about it, as regenerating them, which was once easily done with Life magic, was now much more difficult to do. All she could do was stimulate the organs that produced blood in the woman's body so they worked to replace the blood she lost faster.

To answer the question, Cressida grabbed her fallen cudgel, and stood up, first to one knee, then straightened herself up. She still felt a bit weak, a little wobbly, but after what the young lady just did for her, there was no way she'd back down from her duty, regardless of the cost.

"As long as I still have life in me, milady, I shall fight on," she said with conviction and determination in her voice.

"Very good," Aideen said with a satisfied nod, as she looked towards the still ongoing battle around them. "Then follow me. There is still much to be done today, before we can rest."

With their weapons firmly gripped in hand, the two women took off and rushed towards the nearest battle being fought, and again risked life and limb, all in order to do what was needed of them.