Reckonings (Chap III)

[Dozus]

Aerex pushed the bar doors open, eyes darting furtively for any sign of trouble outside.  "I am indeed from Jantir, Sir Kyrian.  Sadly, all the city doesn't shine as the Dynast's marble steps.  I served in the constabulary for years as an inspector.  Investigator Aerex Matare, at your service," he said with a nod as they strode watchfully down the lane.  "Former Investigator by now, I expect.  I uncovered a potential scandal, a line of corruption from beat constables to the Dynast's advisors.  When I reported my findings to the Captain of the Guard, I was silenced and demoted."  Aerex gave the slightest hint of a smirk.  "It seems I have a knack for ending up on the business side of civil service corruption."  Strange, he thought.  A few slight months ago, Aerex would have cringed at the thought of calling Jantir anything less than the finest city this side of the pale.  Now, he was cracking jokes about the crushing failure of his life's work.  Whether it was the druidic magic or his own change, Aerex couldn't tell.  "If you wish to help us, Sir Kyrian, we'd welcome it."  Well, Talia might not, he thought to himself.  But she'll appreciate the results.  I hope.

[Ria Hawk]

Talia gritted her teeth as her two friends invited the knight to go with them.  Great.  Just great.  Like we needed this.  But she didn't say anything.  The damage was done, and she might as well have the man where she could keep an eye on him.  As they left the bar and started making their way towards the barracks, she handed Aerex the wanted poster she'd taken.  "Have you seen that?" she asked quietly.  "We're in for it, in this town, I expect."

[Dozus]

Aerex blinked in surprise as he read the poster.  He had seen hundreds like it in his career, and written more than a few himself.  Seeing his own name on the paper sharpened the reality of the situation.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but snicker at the series of lies and half-truths.  "Well, he's certainly creative," Aerex murmured.  "And fifty gold pieces!  No small change."  Noting the description of "barely five and a half feet" (actually slightly generous, he noted) and wearing "a hat of the empire," Aerex pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and slipped off the hat.  It wasn't much of an improvement, but anything would help, he figured.

[EchoMirage]

"Ha, fifty gold?" Kyrian chuckled. "Sir, you are a villan not worth smiting!" Shaking his head, he strolled along them. "Everybody knows that the bounty for an adventurer starts at a hundred and one gold pieces ... all bards tell it that way. Why, back in the day when... ah, back in the day, lord Jevyan put up up a bonty of a hundred and fifty for... ah, nevermind."

[Murometz]

City Guard Compound

The wind picked up and blew cold and hard, as the ostentatious knight, and the once proud but now reflective lawman made their way down Ganse’s empty streets heading for the City Guard barracks compound.

Talia meanwhile had also exited the tavern, beckoning Vorodon to join her.  Both the Bladedancer and the Half-ogre were in foul moods. Voro eyes kept bulging periodically, threatening to burst forth from their cavities, a sure sign the half-ogre meant to deliver physical harm…to someone.


The streets were near empty, and despite the winter chill and late hour the alleys of Ganse seemed even more forlorn than usual.

All, except for Kyrian who remained somewhat irreverent, could feel a sense of foreboding, as the four companions made their way. Steam rose in short, rapid bursts from the four companions as they walked in the cold, their feet sloshing through dirty snow.

After what seemed an eternity, the gated compound of the Gansian City Guard could be seen.

It was Voro who first paused, as he spied a familiar and disturbing site. The companions were still over a hundred feet away, yet the Doglord and his bear-like hounds were unmistakable in the distance. Ort Baslo and his ‘Dwarven Brawlers’, Becca and Hannah. They had the watch this late hour. They stood vigil at the gate.

Pausing now behind the same shop canopy he had last time the half-ogre found himself in this situation, Vorodon scratched his helmed head in consternation. For a moment, a moment only, his bloodlust subsided. Perhaps they would need a plan. Perhaps someone could read that note for Voro, so he could ‘figure things out’…maybe the Insector should come up with a plan.

Kyrian frowned at the delay. He was not yet sure what caused the companions to pause in this unpleasant night chill. Then he saw Ort Baslo’s dogs.

Talia stood silent. If she was cold, she didn’t show it. Instead she had what looked like a permanently etched grimace on her face.

Aerex began to hop foot to foot to stay warm. The companions thought of their situation...What now?

[Dozus]

"D*mn dogs," Aerex sighed.  "Baslow probably won't be as easily distracted this time around.  Sir Kyrian, I think you're the only one among us without an arrest warrant.  Perhaps you could distract them..." Aerex paused in mid-thought.  Wait, a friend at the gate.  He drew in breath sharply.  "I think Ort might be on our side.  He's a good man; if there's a rebel among these guards, he's it."  He glanced at the others.  "C'mon.  Let's go say hi."

Aerex stood, hood still tight against his head, and stepped out of the alley.  He gave a small salute to Ort Baslow.  "Hey there, Dog Lord," he said in a hushed greeting.  At the sight of the smallish investigator, the dogs tugged forward on their chains and let our low warning growls.  "Fine evening, isn't it?"  Ort peered at him, seeming to recognize it was Aerex.  "I believe my friends and I have... an appointment."

[Murometz]

Becca and Hannah indeed tensed at Aerex Matare's approach, but Ort Baslo kept a tight hold on their thick leashes.

For his part, the Doglord had a strange, detached look on his normally expressive, heavily-jowled face. A brief glint of recognition at seeing the diminutive lawman and the hulking warrior over his shoulder, was quickly replaced by a stoic stare.

In lieu of speaking, Ort Baslo simply stepped to the side, dragging his dogs with him, and allowing the companions a direct view of the barracks building. The gate in front of them was slightly ajar now, and only the low, fearsome growling of Becca and Hannah could be heard in the cold, darkening night.

A big glop of tobacco and phlegm flew suddenly from the Baslo's lips, landing twenty yards distant in the snow.

"Nine. Top Floor...no guards" he quickly muttered and then looked away again, staring out into the snowy streets, as if the companions were not standing a few feet in front of him. It was almost if the Doglord felt guilty at his own changing loyalties, Aerex noticed. Ort Baslo seemed to be struggling with his own thoughts.

It didnt seem like the Doglord had anything else to say.

Looking again, through and past the iron gate, Aerex could see the same white-washed walls he had scaled and then slid down, less than a month previously. The courtyard, or more precisely, the sixty feet of open ground, between the gate and the barracks, was empty and windswept.


No one was around.

Matare tensed, then swatted at his own shoulder, feeling a tickle on his neck. It was no mosquito or fly however, it was the heavy breathing of Voro standing directly behind the Insector. The half-ogre was tense and angry.

Several feet behind them, stood the irreverant Kyrian, eyeing the the canine beasts, straining at their leashes. Farther back, with a gruesome scowl etched upon her face, stood Talia, her cloak wrapped tightly around her body.

[Dozus]

He is a good man, Aerex pondered as Baslow sauntered off.  His eyes locked on the barracks.  "Alright," he said, turning his head back toward his companions.  "Let's make this quick.  I'll do the talking, I know how connies think.  Be on guard, though; it could still be a trap."  Tightening the cloak around his head just a bit more, Aerex walked quickly through the gate and into the barracks.  Top floor, no guards, he thought, looking for the stairs.

[EchoMirage]

"Well, I, myself, hope for an ambush or some resistance - if they just threw down their weapons, or didn't have any save a beer keg or a sweaty pillow - albeit unsavoury and unpleasant - they'd hardly amount to a challenge, and certainly not a bard's tale."
Sword in hand, Kyrian was restless on his feet, itching for a fight. Adrenaline rushing, he examined the darkened barracks entrance. "In we go, but caeful there."

As the building swallowed them, and wrapped them in its musky darkness, Kyrian placed his hand upon the inspector's shoulder. "While wanted, you're still the most inconspicious of us, sir. We should know the forces aligned against us, and their placement - would you mind a swift recon, executed by you, for the benefit of all? We will be close, should any ill befall you. Once our knowledge is ample, we shall strike with great vengeance and fury. And a jolly laughter!"

[Wulfhere]

Shambling quietly past his allies, Vorodon silently drew a dart from his quiver as he entered the decrepit barracks building.  Kyrian's advice was sound, but the hill warrior refused to allow another friend to risk himself.  Perhaps a trap was planned by the lying Leftenant, but the treacherous dog would discover that a Volgottir on his guard was not so easily slain!

In the dim light of Baslo's small watch fire, Vorodon could barely make out the faded coat of arms painted above the entrance, now stained and discolored from the original colors.  A wide hallway ran along the axis of the building, dark and silent.  The Half-Ogre's inhuman vision adapted to the gloom in moments, revealing solid-looking doors along its length and a pair of badly-executed statues in niches near the midpoint of the structure.  To the left, a flight of wooden stairs led steeply upward, their utilitarian woodwork showing the signs of numerous slipshod repairs over the years.

The hill warrior began his ascent, his heavy footsteps echoing in the stairwell, his eyes darting back and forth uneasily as he anticipated an ambush at any time.  The stairwell opened up to an unoccupied barracks chamber, where Vorodon paused while his companions, more stealthy than he, caught up to him. 

The small party continued upward, passing another hallway, and then the stairs ended at the building’s top floor.  Sounds of laughter and the squealing of women could be heard ahead.  Steeling himself to rush forward, Vorodon heard Aerex’s urgent whisper.

“Remember, we want as little bloodshed as possible!  The main goal is to take out Hepple Farax.”

A few paces along the hall, firelight spilled from an open pair of double doors.  A faded tapestry could be seen across from the opening, but the interior of the room was hidden from the hill warrior’s gaze.  As a voice within called out, “Fives!  Pay Up!” Vorodon strode forward, crouched low to avoid striking his head against the ceiling’s beams.  The elfen knight stepped up beside him, the two of them filling the double doorway.

Vorodon cocked his arm back, prepared to throw one of his grim-looking darts as his low voice rumbled like a falling mountain.  “Leftenant!  Perty Overr!”

[Ria Hawk]

Talia sighed irritably.  Announcing their presence wasn't exactly a good idea, but it was too late, and anyway, given their luck with attempting to take their enemies by surprise, maybe a head on assault was best.  She stood just to the side of Voro, where she wasn't quite visible, but where she could get into the room easily.  She snapped a fan open, and got ready to move.

[Dozus]

Aerex's hands gripped tightly his rapier and dagger in their scabbards, ready to pounce like a cat extending its claws.  He nodded grimly as Vorodon made his guttural warning.  Good, Aerex thought.  Given the general nature of Ganse's constabulary, he expected very few to be willing to lay down their lives for Hepple Farax.  The mere sound of the Volgottir might send a few of them unsure of their comraderie with the lieutenant; the sight of him might cause a few to turn tail.  Well, with any luck, he thought grimly.  The fewer that die today, the better.

[Murometz]

“Look boys, the circus is back in town!” was the first thing Voro heard as he appeared in the doorway next to the smiling Kyrian, with Aerex and Talia tensing in the wings. Hepple Farax and his cronies conveniently called this room the  “Play Den”, and once a week, Hepple and his chosen posse, spent nights here in debauchery, and on some nights…even depravity.

This was one such night.

Voro could not tell which of the nine men (he quickly counted) insulted him, though it was hard to blame the drunken bloke, who upon seeing a half-ogre and a cat-like elf appear out of nowhere, briefly assumed the carnival had returned to Ganse.

Aerex and Talia quickly gauged the situation.

The room was the size of a small mess hall, but designed and decorated with pleasure and downtime in mind. Centering the room was a large round table, surrounded by a dozen chairs. Six of the chairs were currently occupied by six guards engaged in a rousing game of [Knuckle Roller]. It was immediately obvious that most, if not all of the guards were drunk.

To one side of the room was an empty space and two heavily scarred dartboards, where one lone guard was firing the tiny missiles at the wall, a bored look on his face. On the other side of the room was a long, plush purple divan, which looked horribly out of place in a guard’s barracks, but would look right at home in some wizard’s tower. Fourteen feet long, the divan currently sported two men (on opposite sides) engaged in carnal pleasure with two seeming courtesans, though ‘courtesans’, may have been a generous choice of titles for the giggling women. One rode a guard (both naked from the waist down), as he sat there, while the other harlot was doing a lazy dance, fully nude, for the other divan seated guard….Lieutenant Hepple Farax himself.

Upon seeing the intruders, Farax shoved the whore away, and quickly rose, while simultaneously pulling up his breeches, and checking the wall for the closest weapon within his reach (since several shields and poorly made blades hung on hooks haphazardly along the room’s walls.)

“How the hell did you get in here?” Hepple managed to blurt out dumbly…then spied Aerex, whose own weapon grips tightened upon meeting the Lieutenants gaze.

“You!” Hepple seethed.

The six men at the table merely stared agape for a moment, unsure of what exactly it was they were seeing, and what exactly was supposed to happen next. It was obvious, these men were not used to being surprised in their own sanctum by strangers.

Strangely, the second man on the divan, continued fuggering his damsel, oblivious as they both were to this poorly timed intrusion.

Stranger still, the lone young man playing darts turned and stared as well, but only at Talia…with a peculiar bewilderment.

(His particular angle allowed him to see Talia in the doorway. Other guards can only make out the three so far--Voro, Aerex, Kyrian).

<OOC>Round 1 initiative goes to you folks. Proceed. If you choose to attack, I will PM each of you a set of rolls (your actions and your adversaries’ actions…hits, misses and damage and such…several rounds at once. This way we can smoothly flow through combat, and you can post your own results IC) This is an experiment.</OOC>

[Wulfhere]

“Liar Heffle Farax!” intoned the wrathful Half-Ogre, beginning the traditional challenge of the rustic hills of his homeland.  “Vorodon clam Holmgone Shellange for to bad man Heffle Farax! 

The massive warrior’s thunderous voice grew even louder. “Heffle Farax lie like woman, say Insector take moneys!  Insector NO take moneys!  Heffle Farax say Insector friend for to bandit! Insector NO friend for to bandit!  Vorodon shellange name Heffle Farax liar!”

Hardly pausing, the stentorian tirade continued.  “HEFFLE FARAX no fight bandit!  Heffle Farax friend for to bandit; no stoff for to make harm!  Vorodon shellange name Heffle Farax bandit friender!

“Heffle Farax attack rape Bross wife lady! Heffle Farax attack good guard Volgotoi Bross for to take Bross wife lady!  Then no kill good guard Volgotoi Bross, Farax speak Bross for to go Immerial Dignittery to greet cliff!  Vorodon shellange name Heffle Farax attack raper!  Name Heffle Farax stab backer!”

“Vorodon see coward, Leftenant!  Answer Shellange, coward liar!”

[Dozus]

Just before Vorodon made his challenge, Aerex immidiately set to work.  In a single motion, he pulled his weapons from their holdings and dashed toward the gamblers.  They posed no real threat, he reasoned, and would hopefully not interfere.  The glint of his rapier flashed as he aimed a pommel smash at the forehead of one of the drunken guards.  Aerex observed that, oddly, the attacks seemed to be coming on their own; his real attention was focused on Hepple Farax as he glared seethingly at the constable ranger.

Vorodon's beot apparently took them both by surprise.  Farax's narrowed eyes jerked to the Volgottir and Aerex's bludgenoning attempt missed, only grazing the drunk lightly across the forehead.  The guard blinked furiously and slapped his hand stupidly against his brow as though swatting a fly.  The rest of the guards directed what attention they could to Vorodon.

[EchoMirage]

While his voice was nowhere near Vorodon's bellow, Kyrian stepped forward to Aerex's side, catching the glint of the torches along the length of the Carmine Rose, giving it a flickering ... carmine ... sheen.
"Okay, this baby here says that the first one to do anything stupid loses the part responsible to it. And you, Aerex, stop it. These men may go. This confrontation is between higher justice, and the villain by name of Farrax. Defend yourself with word and sword, your choice!"

[Murometz]

Reckoning

“Arm yourselves!” screamed Farax, spittle flying, while grabbing a blade from the wall...a tarnished broadsword, which had seen much better days.

The men, still in shock, took their time rising from the table, and just then a whirl flashed by, running from the doorway directly toward the gamblers.

Aerex miscalculated slightly, and glanced the pommel of his dagger against a man’s forehead. The guard seated in that particular chair, had little choice but to act, rising swiftly, and bashing the chair into smithereens against the awkward form of Inspector Matare. Aerex went sprawling, and after a roll, landed only a few feet from Hepple Farax, who raised his own blade to finish the ranger-rogue off.

Farax could not help but leer as he swung…

Meanwhile Kyrian rushed in and spoke vociferously, and as the remaining five guards at the table jolted from their chairs, as swiftly and as best as drunken men could, they momentarily paused to listen to the shining knight.

That pause helped Talia’s whizzing fan find a home in one of the men’s temples, burying itself inside his skull, and slaying him instantly. Slumping, the guard managed to let out a quiet groan before expiring.

That seemed to finally wash the fog away from the remaining guards, though they all did still show signs of inebriation.

(The sixth guard had hit Aerex with his chair, the seventh, at the dart board, has not yet acted still staring at Talia confused, and the carnal one just now finally stops fornicating, and throws the trollop off him, looking to Farax for direction.)

Farax’ blade meanwhile, hit home as well, and as Aerex struggled to rise swiftly, a searing pressure and great pain, makes tears well up in his eyes unbidden.

Farax’ rusty blade had struck against his chest and side, and blood flowed freely.

Raising his sword once more, Farax was about to say something when some heavy missile pierced his arm, just beneath his shoulder, lacerating his tricep muscle, with impressive force. Farax howled, and dropped his sword momentarily. Another dart whizzed by, burying itself a half-foot into the wall behind the plush divan.

Another whizzing steel fan came flying then, and barely missing another guard’s head instead struck one of the trollops in the midsection. A woman’s shriek rang out, and the woman fell. The other whore leapt onto and over the divan, scurrying and ducking behind it.

“Twenty gold, and ten days off duty, to any man who downs that giant freak!” Farax suddenly shouted again, and bent to raise his sword once more, looking down on the badly wounded Aerex, with the intention of finishing him off…though now he had a new problem. Kyrian the Elven Chevalier had Hepple Farax in his sights now, and was only a dozen feet away.

Voro plodded into the room, grabbing two more deadly darts from his pouch. The guards, having heard Farax’s offer, steeled themselves as best they could and rushed the half-ogre with screams of
“Up the Gansian Guard!”

Five men were coming at him now, as he thundered into the room. Some had weapons, some forgot to grab them. One charged with a shield, using it as a battering ram.

The young guard alone, by the dart board, finally got over his shock at seeing Talia’s silver-platinum mane, and backed up into a corner, grabbing a dagger from his belt, and crouching in a defensive posture.

<OOC> that was about 1.5-2 rounds, sort of…kinda. Aerex’ bumrush threw me off a bit. Kyrian, Aerex and Talia can act now, then guards and Farax act, then Voro again, then intiative. If anyone wants several rolls sent to them via PM and post several rounds of action, let me now…otherwise we’ll go with the “your turn, their turn” method. Aerex has suffered approximately 55% of his HP total in damage (rolled max damage for Farax sword…and chair hurt). Kyrian, the guards may have listened if allowed to, but the PM’d standing orders from your fellows, called for ‘attack’. In general, only Farax has attacked really, and one other guard (chair) because I figured it took them a "round" to get their bearings, and try to grab some weapons. Ok let me know if I missed anything please.</OOC>

[Dozus]

Stupid, stupid, stupid! a voice shouted in Aerex's head as Hepple's oxidized sword sliced through his leather armor.  The thought escaped his throat as something like "Wrraugh!"  He had not the luxury, though, of further machinations of woe; Farax, despite a nasty looking wound courtesey of Vorodon, was wielding again his rusted blade.  He knew he couldn't take the lieutenant alone, but Kyrian and Voro had to break through the line of blitzing guards.  Damage could still be done, however.  Matare rolled to the side, rose, and thrust through his injury to attack the guard he had first missed.  Gritting his teeth against the splitting pain, he thrust at the guard with his rapier and spun around with his dagger in a reverse grip to slash at his gut.
(rolls: Success!)
The guard gasped as Aerex's rapier pierced a lung, fastening him like a collector's pin through a butterfly.  Matare tore the rapier from his chest as he stepped forward and swung with the dagger, catching the skin of the guard's stomach through his cheap uniform.  The guard's whole body cringed as he grasped at his gut where entrails poured out.  He collapsed dead onto the ground, gripping his own intestines.  As he fell, Aerex grimly wondered how close his own viscera were to falling out.

[Ria Hawk]

Talia snarled silently.  She'd meant to stay in the back and watch for reinforcements; it wasn't her revenge.  But she'd have to have words with Aerex later about thinking before trying to kill someone.  Her other fan came out and made a threatening snap as she opened it.  "You might want to reconsider, you drunken sods.  You get in our way, we'll kill you."  With that, she lunged forward, blades flashing.

(OOC: Attacking nearest guard going for one of our guys, or alternatively nearest armed guard.)

[EchoMirage]

"The folly of men is the path to their demise" Kyrian let the guards know before letting the Rose spring to life. Knight or not, battle was a passion. The cheering of crowds, red-strteaked white sand sipping up every droplet of the precious carmine to sate its neverending thirst, the cheering of the crowd palpable, a singularity of purpose, certainty focused into a sole knot in the threads of fate.

While the fools reached for their weapons, Kyrian sought to strike true at their rotten heart - the Lieutenant, once dead, would cease pumping bile into their minds, replacing it with a flow of sanity.

Having no charge to keep safe, he focused his thoughts on the offense, striking diagonally once from left and right to where the neck joins the shoulders, followed by an overhead swing to send his foe into death's careless embrace.

[Murometz]

And just like that the tide of battle turned, with the ignoble and untimely demise of one…Lieutenant Hepple Farax. Kyrian had crisscrossed the villain’s torso and head with his razor-honed blade, cutting through leather and flesh indiscriminately.

Farax could only stare in futile defiance at the Elvin knight, as he slumped to his knees, clutching his own blood-spouting shoulder in vain. The guard closest to the dying Farax, the one who was consumed with lust only seconds earlier, had witnessed Kyrian effortlessly cutting down his boss. It was if a symphony only the elf could ear echoed through the chamber as Kyrian danced and lunged, blade in hand, like a leopard striking its prey. Bauer, Farax right hand man was brutish, but not stupid. He dropped his own short sword and held up his hands, in the universal sign for mercy, as he stared at the shinning avenger.

Meanwhile, five guards engaged Vorodon…and Vorodon engaged them in turn…(ooc--to be posted by Wulf—multiple die rolls provided per request--ooc)

Talia waded into the room as well, trying to pick off some of the men rushing at the huge target the half-ogre provided, while at the same time, offering them one last chance at life. It was too late, the guards attacked with a sense of desperation now. She struck another guard, who went down clutching his le, as the steel blade severed a tendon. One less for Voro to worry aboout.


Aerex was in considerable pain, but was now safe from immediate attack of any kind, as he looked up from his downed target.

[Wulfhere]

Vorodon strode into the room, kicking aside a chair that had been knocked over in the struggle.  He could see the guardsmen grabbing weapons and moving towards him, their leader’s promises conflicting with their natural cowardice.  One came forward with a viciously-spiked targe, while another had armed himself with a cumbersome pike.  A pair from the table had kept their short swords handy, and the last had grabbed a clumsy three-headed flail from a shelf. 

The Volgottir warrior briefly hoped that their courage would fail them, but that hope vanished as the dregs of Ganse’s Guard moved in on him.  Drunken malice filled their eyes as the five guardsmen converged on the massive half-breed.  He leapt clear of a clumsy swing of the flail wielder, but wasn’t agile enough to dodge the ruddy-faced shieldman beside him.  In a powerful rush, the man brutally slammed his targe into the half-ogre, knocking the dart from his hand as he was rocked backwards by its impact.  The vicious guardsman cursed foully as he realized that Vorodon’s armor had held fast, turning the shield’s spike aside.

Smoothly drawing another dart from his quiver, the massive hill warrior raised his arm and plunged the projectile down into the shieldman’s shoulder as far as its leather vanes.  Solidly grasping the impaling weapon, Vorodon’s deep voice roared through the room.  “I Vorodon Volgottir!  Evil liars I KILL!” he shouted, as he heaved the dying guardsman onto the blades of two more, slamming them back against the wall.  A look of utter horror filled one guard’s eyes as he realized that his shortsword had impaled his dying comrade. 

As the massive hill warrior struggled with the other guardsmen, the pikeman swung wide, moving his lengthy weapon clear of his beleaguered allies.  Seeing his opening, he thrust savagely at the half-ogre’s vulnerable leg, just above his greaves.  The weapon’s rusty tip sank deep into the exposed flesh, tearing a massive gouge.  Encouraged, the man drew back for another thrust.

[EchoMirage]

"Throw a coin in *that* fountain!" Kyrian laughed as Farax tried to prove that nay, a human body holds more than a gallon of blood.
"You just sit on the couch, and you'll be safe" he added to the terrified Bauer as he swivelled towards the quintet engaging Vorodon. "But as for those fools... pick on someone your own size!" the knight called as his sword slammed into the exposed back of the pikeman.

[Ria Hawk]

Talia lunged for her other fan, yanking out of the corpse she'd planted it in only a few seconds ago.  She dropped into a fighting stance, both fans open.  "You're all really, really stupid.  I tried to give you a chance to not get killed, and you insisted on getting in our way.  You might want to rethink that."  Then she danced forward, blades flashing.

(OOC:  Going for one of the ones attacking Voro, not necessarily aiming to kill if simply disabling is easier or faster.)

[Dozus]

Aerex grunted as he turned to see the remaining guards charge for Vorodon.  The pain in his side was splitting, but it would have to be ignored for the time being.  Sheathing his blades, Aerex drew his bow, knocked an arrow, and aimed for one of the charging guards, aiming to miss the more vital organs.  With a flick of his fingers, the arrow sprang out into the air.

(OOC: Same deal, want to hurt 'im but not kill)