Stunned by the sight, she wasn't aware of things toppling above her. The earlier wave that had shaken the ground managed to crack and ruin the adjacent building's supports. It started to fall, a threatening shadow cast over the child and all she could do was look up to her death. She didn't even have the time to scream.
Deidre would have been crushed, if it wasn't for the timely appearance of the templar.
He broke through thick war-fog, his face grimy and streaked with soot. His pale, blond hair hung over his head in sweaty clumps. Blood spattered his armor, and he held his sword and shield on one hand each. At the sight of her and her predicament, however, he was forced to throw the latter aside, and hooked his arm over her torso and bodily spirited her away before chunks of the building could fall on her. Without his helm, she recognized him, and she clung onto his arm in relief, her legs hanging above the ground as she was carried to safety.
"Andy!" she shouted joyously. For the first time since the attack started, she smiled.
"Maker's Breath, Dee!" Andreus exclaimed. "What are you doing away from the others?! You could have been killed!"
"I had to go back!" she replied. "The scrolls... the ones the Warden gave her... Sister Justine would weep if we lost them!"
"You mad girl!" he groaned. "She would weep harder if she lost you!"
The templar continued to run, his free arm closed over the child with him. Without looking back, the two vanished into the chaos.
(OOC Note: This is the entire first half of this narrative.)