But then he still needed to pry a hole past them. Another step in, and his short spear finally found its range. Three swift thrusts to the solar plexus of three men, and they dropped. Firyr's men came streamlining in just after, widening the hole that had so accurately created, and tossing men into the air with the same vigour that could be seen on the left.
That trickling of men still left in the centre of Cormrant's formation hurried to reinforce where they could, at the Vice-Commanders hurried orders, but it was an effort carried out in vain.
The battle was over, that much was clear, but neither Judas nor Firyr would be satisfied until they'd stomped Cormrant down to prove it. For all Cormrant's flaws, he seemed to accept that fate with an honour that one wouldn't expect to be prescribed to a mock battle.
Judas closed in on him from the left, and Firyr from the right. Cormrant clutched his padded sword valiantly and prepared to face them.
