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Amidst the horde of darkness, alone and surrounded by foul creatures, a golden blur carves through their ranks.
"DEATH TO THE SPAWN OF THE ABYSS!"
Tancred whirls the golden sword through the air, all trace of thought lost in the urge to fight and survive. Abandoned by those who fought with him, there is nothing left to fight for. Nightmares and worse slash at his armour, pull at his arms and try to drag him down; but the Paladin has the favour of his God. Drawing upon the holy powers of the priesthood of Helm sustains him. It cannot - will not - last forever, but while it does, banishment is all that awaits any creature that approaches Tancred.
"DUCK! CUT LEFT! SWING RIGHT! BEHIND YOU!"
Karnas, the mage trapped within a golden sword, can do naught but direct his wielder. This is, in a way, what he exists for; he is not a man, but a sword. As a weapon, he serves his bearer as well as he can. Channelling energies unseen to the normal eye, the soul of the trapped mage throws himself into shielding the Paladin from the ghastly spells of death and horror directed at the pair - for Karnas knows a sword, too, can die.
"I HOPE YOU'VE GOT A PLAN FOR GETTING OUT OF THIS ONE!"
"YAAAAAAAAGH! DEATH! DEATH IN THE NAME OF HELM!"
"I'LL TAKE THAT AS A NO!"
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