With a deep, guttural growl, she swings.

Tovolar catches the head of the mace.

"Why would I ever want to join you?" she snarls. More and more of her weight she presses into the mace, but he holds it with little trouble.

"You did once," he answers. He pushes the mace back, throwing her off balance. "That was your place."

"You don't get to decide my place," she says. Another swing of the mace finds him catching it by the haft and tearing it from her hands. As it falls, it clatters against the shield of a fallen guard, but Tovolar takes no notice.

***

EPISODE 4: HARVESTIDE