[center][b]Rayvon Krayvitch - Town Square[/b][/center]

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Rayvon draws her blade from the ground, eyes surveying the battlefield. So far, it seemed like the spiders were well taken care of. The ghosts, she had no idea if her current weaponry would be of any effect. Instead, she joins in where she thought she would be of most use. She charges to Wayne's side, lashing out with a strike against the dagger wielding woman. Injury to his neck, bleeding, vampire or not, it was liable to be a great weakener.. The daggers, however, were likely to be futile against her superior armour without supernatural strength. She would draw the brunt of the attack, appearing far more aggressive and threatening than the vampire if need-be then. If anything, his superior speed and strength might allow him to slip in with a lethal blow against the cur assisting to terrorize innocent townsfolk.

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[center][b]Maevan Lucre - West Watch Tower[/b][/center]

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Maeven licks her lips after listening to all this nonsense. The sprite was stupid to go along with this plan. It made the odds more even, possibly stacked against them. They should have taken the chance to charge the girl and stick a dagger in her back. She was just a little girl, after all... How deadly could she be in a melee scrap. She cranes herself up on Fafnir's back as she surveys the battlefield, fingers clicking along her blunderbuss. The spirit stirs in agitation at her handling and she shudders at the vehement anger she experiences radiating off of it in intensive heat. She draws her goggles down and steadies the blunderbuss on a rack, locking it in place at Fafnir's neck meant to give her stability as he moves or she fires. "Raise those wings, Faf, it's time to charge, see if we can herd these puppies," she coos. Fafnir bristles and raises his metal wings as an impromptu shielding tent about Maeven though it would slow him down. For now, it was still in his best interests to protect the snake-tongued's kin. Having her there, though, needing to shield her, he would be fairly incapable of greater agility, but better to risk taking a few dents himself than enabling himself to be trapped in an inferior form as this. With a screeching metallic roar of "Skrreeeeeeeeeee!" Fafnir charges forward as Maeven tries to gauge the distance to catch the skeletons both in a blast of her flame, and would consequently end up forcing the little girl and her big, scary protector to move. If she could just get at the correct paces from them, she could potentially damage their bows and force them into melee to defend the girl. And, given Naream's observations of that book, perhaps she might be able to catch it in the fiery fallout if the girl was too slow or unskilled.