Smoke drifted into the scorched air in lazy spirals, huddling like ravens over the bridge. Three more scavengers made it to the structure's far edge-- Black Talons, birds of prey attracted by their thirst for blood, riled by the thought that it would soon rain down into the canyon below. Kirian Varlos tasted his teeth, the tang of iron sharp against his thoughts. The entire day had been spent spreading a fine mist of dirt, sweat, blood, hate, fear into the air. For many, it tasted better than drink. It tasted better than food. Kirian tasted the chaos in the air, and narrowed his eyes on the gate looming ahead. He didn't even enjoy the feast; he'd had so much that all he could have was more.

Kirian's armor shod boots rattled lightly against the cobblestones as he strode alongside Phia and Gernev, impassively picking out details like a crow among men. From this distance, a stagecoach ahead looked to be about 12 meters away, with the gate another 25 or so meters beyond that, with various debris littered like so many corpses near the wreck of the coach. He rested his hand on the haft of his bec de corbin, and turned as Gernev ended the march with a signal to stop.

"They maybe taken cover behind this coach." He rumbled, "Phia, you stay behind, me and Kirian will go see if it is true. Is that good?"

"Sounds good to me." Phia voiced her affirmation, and took to the rear. Kirian offered a nod to her in response as she passed, and drew his bastard sword as he turned to face Gernev.

"Let's go. If they mean to take the coach, we'll draw them around to give Phia a clear shot.", he said, voice like iron, "If not, we'll secure, have her take point on top."

Kirian repositioned himself a good distance from the right lip of the bridge, close enough to Gernev that either of the mercenaries could freely engage in a melee with their comrade. Kirian primed himself for action, dismissing anything in his mind but the bare essentials in preparation for combat. He stood ready to move quickly at the edge of Gernev's sphere of influence, just far enough that any soldiers that got too brave with the Witch Knight would have to turn to see the other Talon, or be blindsided by a full grown orc. As soon as Gernev was ready, Kirian would stalk to the right, pacing himself to be a meter or two behind, keeping alert so that he could signal Phia of any changes.

Kirian's eyes narrowed again, unable to resist the sigil of the Silver Shields flying proudly alongside the carved insignia of Xoni above the palace gate. The entire day had been spent among similar banners torn to shreds, stained by men who were wrong in thinking they had the strength to hold it aloft. Kirian had spent the entire siege among broken shields and broken people, seen them starve in their walls, and their empty stomachs spread against their alleys. That would serve them just as well. Seeing those flags fly high and proud, Kirian looked forward to the next meal.