Grizzal had hardly landed a blow since scaling the bridge, he hadn't needed to. So far, the only harm that had befallen them had been from magic cast by the brace of Incantors below. Dodging the flashes and bolts as they streaked through the air, he tipped potions down throats and bandaged the continuously moving limbs of the still fighting green-skins. As he raced to aid Freemonte, he saw that the first of the imps were nearly upon them, one with its creepy little claw almost on Danz's leg.
“Danz,” he yelled into the melee, “watch your back”
“Fanks” he bawled in response, spinning round and taking out three of them with a single swipe of his mace. Grizzal was beginning to suspect that there was more of an in depth plan here than had been initially explained to the pinkies. Without anoth
