She was confused. Her eyes swum around in her skull, and her pupils were wide and unfocused, and her breathing was slow, almost nonexistent.

  "-ead?"

  "Le- eck."

  She felt something stab into her, midway down her body. Her breath caught, and she spasmed.

  "-hit, it's ali-"

  More stabs in more places. She felt nothing but agony as she writhed. She grabbed one of the things stabbing her and pulled, hard. She thought she heard a yell, but everything was muffled, dizzy. She- she had to-

  As the voice was pulled, she desperately pulled at her helmet. The faceplate rose up, and she heaved. She vomited, hard, convulsing as she instinctively twisted away from a jabbing tip. She batted it away with one of her gauntleted hands and looked around.

  4 men, human. They wore steel pot helms, chain and gambeson. They held spears, sidearms and knives. One was stumbling towards me, as another had his spear pushed out of position. The two others were drawing knives and rushing me.

  Her scales pailed, and my breathing increased in volume and rate. This was a nightmare scenario for anyone in armor. Brigandine or full plate, when you were on the ground, things got nasty fast.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Steel encased her arms, with a layer of mail at the joints. Underneath was a thick gambeson. All of that would mean nothing if they swarmed her.

  She desperately closed her helmet, and launched herself at the stumbling man. It was agony. Her body had about 3-4 deep holes in it from the two spear wielding men. But that didn't stop her from launching herself at the man, sending him to his back. She raised her fists as she stared the man in the eyes. Both were wide and panic ridden.

  She slammed her fists down onto his head. She crushed his nose and cheeks in in instant. He began to scream inhumanly as she raised her fists again, she slammed them home again, then again.

  She fell sideways deliberately and grabbed at her belt. Her hand landed on her knight's dagger, and desperately drew it. She twisted around and saw what she had expected. The last spear wielder had tried to stab her exposed body, and had come too close.

  In a reverse grip, she stabbed down into his boot, and through his foot. He screamed and dropped to his knee, and she scrambled up as best she could and decked him. He crumpled like a clay pot, and didn't get up.

  She twisted to look at the two final humans as she drew her normal long knife. They had turned to flank her, but were hesitating. She slowly slithered back, fighting back a scream all the way, as the two's resolves seemed to firm. Just as they approached, and she white knocked her knife, a voice sounded out.

  "STOP!"

  The two hesitated, and she turned her helmet to glance at the new person.

  A knight approached, a war hammer in his hand. She grimaced and tried to back up further. Before she could do something likely to result in her maiming, at best, the knight spoke again.

  "The battle is over, your side has lost. The Barron is dead, and his son is captured. Yield, warrior. It is over." He said. Strangely, he didn't seem to be lording it over her... he almost seemed kind.

  "Wh-" She coughed violently, hunching over as she did. "What about my life?" She said sibilantly.

  "Yield, and on my honor, you will be safe. I swear it so, on my, and my lords honor."

  She hesitated, but slowly reshiethed her knife. She took the time to unhook her helmet, and took it off. With deliberate slowness, she put it on the ground, her scaled features bowing slightly in recognition.

  "I... I Yield, honorable knight. I yield." She said, and slowly collapsed back in exhaustion.