The battle was certainly going lopsided in favor of squad Quinque, Heike observed from a distance. Was the element of surprise really so vital for their strategy? Could his squad have beaten them back this easily if they hadn't been caught off guard? The thought, frankly, pissed him off. Having freed his hands, and spotting no immediate rescue forthcoming, he prepared himself to make his way towards the squad when he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes.

He ducked under the grab of the bandit who snuck up behind him, and slammed his head upwards, smashing it into the brute's nose. Oh yes, he was pissed off.

"Son of- you BITCH I'll fucking cut your guts out for that!"

With blood pouring out of his nose, and tears in his eyes, the bandit gripped his axe and prepared to swing, but an enraged Heike lunged at his throat instead. The axe flew wide as the two lost balance and began tumbling down the slope, each trying to strangle the other, towards the raging battle below.

*****

Emboldened by their leader, the bandits charged forward in spite of their recent losses. They were out for blood now, and Tybalt's attempts at getting their attention had paid dividends. One bandit threw a hand axe at him right as the companion of the one he burned earlier, filled with rage, charged him from the side. Another of the axe users was trying to use his size to break through Diana's guard, willing to take a hit to take her out in one swing. For now, they ignored the Wyvern rider who had caused them so much trouble while she was preoccupied with her latest kill.

The flanking maneuver may have been a mistake after all, it effectively evened the playing field of the current battlefield, and allowed the bandits to retain their momentum in spite of the losses.

Things were not going well, even though t:he plan had gone exactly as Mikhail had hoped. Not only did he manage to get a hold on the knight, but he was even able to keep his grip after the impact. And yet here he was, on his way to give the ground a big old kiss, all because the freak of nature stood still. No cunning counter, no artful dodge, just being a stubborn jack ass that refused to be moved.

Needless to say, the cavalier's breath was unceremoniously knocked out of him upon hitting the ground. But the sight of the axe about to fall on him made it quite clear that there would be time to catch his breath. By some strike of luck, or perhaps it was merely a consolation for his titanic failure, his spear had ended up right next to him.

The axe started to sail downwards. If he had the time and oxygen to spare, Mikhail had a number of rude things he wanted to follow up the smug jack ass's comment with. But alas, it was not meant to be. Instead, he mustered what strength he had left and barrel rolled out of the axe's way, grabbing his spear mid-roll.

The axe fighter was already committed to his swing. Assuming he was human, which truthfully Mikhail was beginning to doubt, the axe fighter would take a moment to recover from such a heavy impact. And in that precise moment, Mikhail planned to make a thrust at the knight's exposed outer neck. Seeing as the cavalier's attack would be made with him on his back, the strike itself would be severely lacking in force, but it should still be strong enough pierce skin if his aim was true.

Now don't kill the bastard, just send him a message, the cavalier reminded himself, grimacing from both the pain and his overall distaste for his current situation. And that damn horse is certainly taking its sweet time.

The Manakete could only watch as the bandits continued to attack his teammates with vigor. He had followed Pauline all the way to the steep mountain and finally arrived at the perfect position to start their attack. He watched, his anger growing slowly but surely. The bandits were really confident that they would be able to wipe out these people who just went through some hardcore training with the resident maid. He looked at his ninja companion and smiled, "Just shout if you need a lift." He said before swiftly taking out his dragonstone and the familiar light enveloped him.

He quickly flew up, his eyes on the battlefield. No one heard him transform nor did he let out a shout, giving him the element of surprise as he shot a fire ball at one of the axemen, successfully burning the poor barbarian. There was a moment of surprise in the group but it only lasted for about a fraction of a second but Hyakuya did not let this go. He swooped down and took one of the bandits and flew up high. His claws dug into him making him let go of his favored weapon. He didn't stop there however as he quickly descended from the skies and then let go of the bandit at a high speed, making him go... splat on the ground. It wasn't a pretty sight but it was certainly a victory. He then flew up once more, eyeing the bandits and seeing what they would do next. Would they aim for him or would they go after their original target?

Tybalt turned his attention to the man screaming at the top of the hill, judging by the silver weapon in his hand and the boisterous tone, this was very clearly the leader of this band. The man’s pointed words were punctuated by the tip of his blade pointed at Tybalt, the man had assessed the mage as the biggest threat, and was rallying the group to,move on him to attempt to fool his plans.

Perfect, his strategy was working, and it did not take it long for their initial rally to immediately falter when the manakete suddenly revealed himself behind the enemy lines. Once more the bandits were thrown into disarray, now being attacked by both the wyvern rider and Manakete from their midst, while he, Diana, and Hiro would be able to push forward.

“Hmn...maybe I over thought this attack…” Tybalt murmured to himself, tossing another ball of flame into the midst of the barbarians. He could see now that even among their rally, the Manakete’s appearance had synced the inevitable victory for them. However, even with the overwhelming offensive they had completed, there was still one outlier that needed to be addressed.

The bandit’s female captive.

Glancing to where he had last spotted her, the mage’s eyes popped as he saw the woman tackle a current assailant and go tumbling down the mountain, towards them. If that was not a clear sign the woman was not on the side of the bandits, Tybalt did not know what was. With that in mind, Tybalt knew what he had to do next.

“Diana, I’m going to make my way towards the captive, if you or Hiro cold cover me, we could save--”

His words were cut off when the sound of a whirling hand axe cut him off, spiraling towards his face. Luckily, the mage had enough reaction time to sway to the side of the flying weapon, the item spiraling behind him.

Unfortunately, it was enough of a distraction for the suppressing fire to be halted just long enough for an axeman to rush him. With a wicked cleave, Tybalt let out a shriek of pain as an axe buried into his side.

“GAUGH!” Came from his throat, the sneering bandit trying to wiggle the weapon deeper into his body. However, the bandit’s initial glee from success turned to a wide-eyed pale panic when he realized the enraged spellcaster was not going down.

“You....brutish bastard!” Tybalt growled, fire wreathing his hand. With a twist of his hips, he pulled the bandit closer to him, before shoving the flaming hand into the axman’s face. There was a brief screaming as the bandit’s head was engulfed in flame, but it did not last long as the Arcfire’s explosive punchline cause the bandit’s head to immediately vaporize and disintegrate, leaving a headless, smouldering corpse to collapse in front of the mage.

Tybalt winced as he yanked the axe from his body, throwing the poor quality metal to the ground. He weakly fired another fireball at the advancing squad, though they could probably see that he had been wounded. Blood was staining his robes now, though it was unknown the amount of damage Tybalt had received from the axe swing, the only thing Tybalt did know was that letting up now could spell his end.

“Y..y’know what? I might just stay back and keep suppressing, if someone else could grab the lady.” He called out weakly, but still having the gumption to blast another advancing axeman with an inferno of fire, forcing the man back towards cover “And -ungh!- while I’m making requests, Lady Joan? Could you come and lend a hand, please?”

The mercenary grinned. As expected, these ones were different fom the others.

Perhaps it was the excitement of finally having a worthy opponent after so many flukes before squad Quinque, but Muroo couldn't help but grin like a maniac, even as his forces were being obliterated.

If they were breaking hard on his forces, then he wouldn't linger any longer as the king on top of the hill. It was nice looking down on everyone in his rocky throne, but he was now aching for some action himself.

The man approached the edge of the rocky hill he was in, spotting Alexandria and her wyvern.

"Let's start with misus 'I am better than you'." He whispered to himself, and then took a deep breath.

He nodded, turned on his heel and put some distance between the ledge and himself. If anyone saw him at the time, when he squatted down for a crouching start with extra power in his legs, one could see that there was certainly some training drilled into the man's body. Military, perhaps.

His accent might have also reminded Tybalt a bit of his homeland, Alistaf.

After that, the man dashed forward, lifting a cloud of dust behind him. His steps were powerful as he gained even more speed with each stride, finally achieving the speed he was looking for before he jumped off the cliff on Alexandra's direction.

A crazy tactic, perhaps crazy was common place between mercenaries, but one he was certain would pay off. He needed to be rid of their aerial support, and perhaps take the wyvern for himself. Ride it to finish off the manakete.

"I'm sorry, lady, but this wyvern is being hijacked!" He shouted as he was crash-landed on the wyvern.

He aimed to dropkick Alexandria out of the way and towards the floor, but if that failed, then he would jam his sword into the wyvern's tough skin. His objective was to take out the aerial support of squad quinque, not use the wyvern, after all. That was a bonus he could or could not get.

Alexandria would find it quite hard to shake off the man from her wyvern, or at all. He was steadfast, not to mention absurdly strong. He held to the wyvern's neck as if it were his own life hanging from the thing's neck, because it was of course.

Probably a tome would've helped her in this ordeal, but with Tybalt hurt and in need of being healed, he was sure he didn't need to worry about it in a while at least. And firing a tome towards them right not could also hurt Alexandra. Best strategy ever.

"Better brace yourself, cause this ain't gonna be pretty for either of us." He smiled at Alexandria, again, with the smile of a battle-frenzied maniac.

Joan, in the meanwhile, watched everything from below. As it should be expected, that was the best she could, at least for now.

She bit her own lip, cursing her powerlessness, and then Tybalt called for her.

"A-Ah, yes! Right away!" She used the reins to make her horse hurry onward and when she was near enough Tybalt, she jumped off the horse.

She hurriedly approached Tybalt and lifted his shirt to take a better look at the man's wound. There was some damage to his ribs, but no broken bones, as far as Joan could tell.

"All right... Merin, please don't let the bandits reach us! I'll have you fixed in a jiffy." She nodded, while trying to ignore the bloodied corpse centimeters away from them.

She put her staff near Tybalt and chanted, "Healing light... recover!" The moon-shaped end of the staff glowed as it quickly healed the man's wound.

About half a minute later, the wound was healed. It was good to bring that staff into the battlefield, after all. It healed people almost to perfection, and it was fast about it too.

"That should be done. Can you stand, sire Tybalt?" The woman clad in pink nodded and then stood up, before offering Tybalt a single hand to support himself up.

---

@NeutralNexus@Katakon

---

Hiro looked around as the bandits had come out of no where, it had been a well placed ambush this entire time and he had to applaud them for managing to accomplish that. However, this as squad Quinque, they had some of the best teamwork that he had ever seen and this certainly would do nothing to dissuade that. The sniper then watched as their leader showed himself, then hearing Tybalt's orders being given out before he had gotten injured. Hiro did notice, however, that Tybalt was in no true danger after that scream of pain. He then proceeded to take a pot shot at a charging raider, landing an arrow straight into the knee of the man. That would hopefully incapacitate the raider before he could truly do anything to harm the squad. Hiro ran back to Tybalt and asked [/b]"Is everything under control over here?"[/b]

Chunks of dirt and grass shot into the air as the axe blade buried itself into the earth, luckily without Mikhail in the way as he rolled to the side towards his lance. Not so much struggling as taking his sweet time, the warrior delayed on removing his weapon from the ground to instead observe his foe's next action. Unfortunately for him, his choice to wait was the wrong choice, as the tip of Mikhail's lance punctured the side of his throat. An attempt at a cry of war and pain came out silent.

What!? An attack from such a vulnerable position!? How could he have thought that would work!?

No matter the likelihood, it was undeniable that the warrior had in fact been struck. He clasped his right hand over the wound and doubled back. However, instead of calling the fight, he reached down and picked up the massive axe with his left hand and lifted it onto his shoulder, ready to retaliate against Mikhail's next move.

Mikhail knew full well that there had been a good deal of luck involved in his strike actually hitting his mark. Normally he would have counted all of his one lucky stars, but he had to move. The axe fighter backing up gave the lancer time to roll over and rest on one knee. He’s off balance. Good, let’s keep it that way.

His breath was ragged, his lungs on fire, but the cavalier knew what he had to do. ”I grew up with an older brother that was much bigger and more experienced than me,” his voice was hoarse and labored. The royal guard’s bewildered look and defensive stance told Mikhail that he had his full attention. “Whenever we got into a scuffle, I never won by fighting fairly. No, I had to be unexpected and lucky.” His grip on the spear was tenuous at best. He could only hope that the adrenaline coursing through the axe fighter would be enough to muffle the sounds of the horse that was approaching from behind the man. At least until it was too late, at which point Mikhail would be able to strike at him again if he were to turn around to face Rollo, who was well on his way to run him into the ground, quite literally.

From the outset of his journey, Kalim made it a point to not question the flow of time. Even if the seconds blended into years, he kept his eyes forward and his feet moving on the road. It wasn't without it's hardship; having to defend himself from wayward brigands, finding places to sleep during the nights, and working at random townships for food and supplies. Overall, he made a modest sum, or at least enough to keep him on his path. There were two things that he did stop to make time for: patching his armor and sharpening his blade. As his adoptive father taught him, 'A warrior without a weapon is a fool, and one without armor is inviting death to his door.' Words that continued to echo in his mind as he stripped and salvaged what he could to keep his equipment in order.

The trek wasn't all trials and woes, some courteous merchants and caravans offer to carry the man a way... However, many dismissed him at the nearest town. His quiet demeanor and intense stare were enough to disturb lesser men, finding Kalim waking up to nothing but wagon trails and horse tracks. Still, he never turned down the ride nor did he forget where he was going. In time, he found himself on the home stretch: the road to Jotenvarr. Already the scenery was much different from his homeland; vast stretching deserts with sparse oasis dabbed across the monochrome canvas turned into lush green grass field and forests dense and lush with foliage. However, even the new and unusual sites were but a momentary distract for the man. Onward he's push, with no hesitation in his step.

After an indeterminate amount of time, there stood the great city of Jotenvarr upon the horizon. Just this site alone steeled the man as he continued his stride, but he began to notice something... It's true the war had ended some time ago, but the stigma of his garb and his skin were obvious. As he had made his way further into the interior, he noticed some people recoiling or moving quickly out of his way. Once a woman snatched her child from his path and proceeded to hug the boy tight to her form while staring up at Kalim. True, his recent ventures gave him the complexion and look of a brigand, but he never raised his sword to anyone that had not tried to do him wrong initially. Now he was encroaching on the interior of the capital, and all the while guards would eye him over while keeping their hands upon their weapons. This continued all the way to the palace until a duo of guards stood before the vagabond.

"Hold!" The older one spoke, hand on sword as he stood erect at his post, "What business have you in the palace?" Eyes narrowed, tone strict, posturing, but his grip on his blade is weak. All these factors Kalim took in at first glance, though it seemed like his eyes never waivered from the guards.

"I seek employment." Kalim's reply was short, though he kept both arms at his sides and his hands away from the sword and pouches on his side. Last thing he wanted was a confrontation in the place he intended to call home. Though he did his best to keep his agitation of his voice, he felt it creep through slightly.

Seems the guard caught wind of it as well, eyeing over Kalim with a slight sneer, "Then help the merchants or brandish your sword as a bouncer for an Inn."

Kalim gave and audible sigh, closing his eyes slightly as he attempted to retain his composure. 'Step forward. Grab sword hand and trip. Draw blade and strike down. Stab through heart quickly and ready for next combatant. If unable to withdraw blade, retrieve opponent's and retreat to cover. Familiarize yourself with the weight and length. Let your opponent make the first mistake and then-' It was at this point the guard before him cleared his throat, snapping out the man out of his trance as his eyes focused ahead once more.

"I represent former general Musaludin. He plans to settle here in Jotenvarr. I'm here as a sort of... Good-will ambassador." Kalim replied, attempting to put on his most courteous tone. His gaze however remained pointed and directed at the older man before him. After a moment of silence the man before him motioned with his head to the guard behind him. In an instant, the younger man nodded before slipping inside the palace.

"We'll see what General Davos says about all this. IF you wish to serve Jotenvarr's guard, it will be his call."

@Light

A battle of strength was not one Heike was suited to fighting. He could feel his grip weaken, lying on top of the bandit at the bottom of the slope, his own air long ago cut off by the man's hands around his throat. This whole fucking day had been one long kick in the face after the other to Heike, and he was too pissed off to let it kill him at this point. He thrashed out, desperately, letting go of the man's throat just as his knee connected with the bandit's crotch.

With a howl of pain the grip on his neck was loosened, and fresh lungs brought renewed energy to Heike. He seized the brief opening his blow caused and dove forward with a snarl, shoving his thumbs into the man's eyes until blood began flowing and howls of pain turned to screams. Then... pain, as steel entered Heike's side, the man had stabbed him with a knife.

Heike quickly scrambled away, leaving a trail of blood as the blind man screamed incoherently, waving the knife furiously all around him. The ex-priest wanted nothing more than to deliver the finishing blow to him, but without a weapon it would be a pointless danger. That, and blood had begun pouring of of his mouth, the dagger must have entered his lungs.

Fighting pain and panic, he began stumbling his way over to squad Quinque. He knew they had a healer with them, having seen her from the top of the slope. The thought of being healed by a staff made him want to vomit, but he knew that anything less would be too risky, and at this point he just wanted to live through the day. As if to punctuate the thought, he coughed up more blood, struggling to breathe.
Still, he knew the body as well as any other healer would, he would have a few minutes yet before blood loss or suffocation took him.

Surely that was plenty of time...

As the Baroness was catching her breath from her last attackers assult on her, she looked towards the nearby cliffs as muted sounds of steps could be heard. Suddenly to Alexandria a man jumped off the cliff right on top of the pair, the man tried to dropkick Alexandria, but her grip onto the  straps kept her on the Wyvern's back but the trio were losing altitude quickly as Vivienne tried to support the suddenly weight of them all including the man's rough landing.

When the man smirked saying they will have a rough landing, Alexandria glared daggers on to the man.

 "Agreed. But will you be stupid enough to hold on to us while we do, THIS!" Alexandria responded sharply as she pulled on Vivienne's reins as the pair started to fall quickly, Alexandria demanded Vivienne to nosedive off the cliff while spinning down quickly. If they were lucky the bandit would let go and the pair could fly back up but other wise they would die together if he hangs on but at least they died in their usual glamorous way.

The Manakete chuckled in his mind. It was a small scale battle and he managed to... splatter one on the ground. It was something less than pleasurable to him. He wouldn't deny if he said that he wanted more action, more people to kill, but he had to stay his hand and quietly transform back into a human. Although that thought was cut off when he saw Tybalt get hurt from an axe swing. But he did hear what he was saying. To the woman, he says, the female captive.

Hyakuya flew up once more and then turned his attention to the woman and bandit fighting. He started to head towards him and he was more or less shocked when he saw the female captive shove her fingers into the bandit's eyesockets. Somewhere inside his mind, he was thinking how utterly disgusting it was for a woman to do but everyone was fully capable of that if they didn't have any weapon to protect one's self with. That was something he learned when he was with his previous teammates back in the war. Even he would be forced to do such an act if his dragonstone was not within reach.

Going back to reality, he flew towards her. She was already struggling to head towards Lady Joan who was their resident healer and saw her cough up more blood. Then there was the matter of the blind bandit swinging his knife around like a madman. With one fireball, he finally went down, Or well, he started screaming and howling in pain as the heat got to him and then dropped down on the ground but that was besides the point.

He would pick Heike up gently as to not harm her any further. He said nothing, however, as he headed towards Joan and then placed Heike beside their troubadour. "It seems their captive is injured and would most likely need immediate attention." He told Joan before gesturing to the bleeding woman. His attention would once more divert to another battle. It was Lady Alexandria and her beloved wyvern. It seems the boss has latched on and now the two were nosediving towards the cliff. This would not end well if they would land. He was itching to help but he knew that he couldn't do anything about it so he just landed on the ground and transformed back, thinking that everything was done.

@Snagglepuss89@GrafRoy Zeppeli

Pauline nodded to Hyakuya and stepped back as the Manakete transformed and rushed into battle. The fight became incredibly fierce, and even though Pauline knew she could help her teammates, she was too scared to join. She covered her face with her hands, muttering to herself.

A dragon's shriek got her attention, and it was not Hyakuya. Alexandra was definitely in some trouble, and the manevour she was trying to perform to knock the bandits' leader off was incredibly dangerous. If it worked, though... Pauline rushed to the cliff the pair was diving from. Going in a straight line. Great. She grabbed her kunai blade, and, thanking Hirotsuka, threw it downwards, aiming at the leader's blue coat. If she hit Alexandra or Vivienne, there'll always be time to apologise later.

The look on the warrior's face told Mikhail that he had some sort of response he'd very much like to express, but the blood tricking out from between his fingers expressed that he was unable to speak due to the neck injury. Instead of retaliating with a smug remark, he only began to march towards the still kneeling Mikhail as he lowered his axe to the ground with a thud, dragging it along the unfortunate earth. As he approached, Mikhail's lance rose into position, stopping the warrior at the tip of its outstretched range. Both knew it was a stalemate; whomever budged first would be stabbed or cleaved by the other. Seeing this as undeniable, the warrior dropped his axe to the ground and rose his free hand high above himself, so that all would see. After holding it there for several seconds, he lowered his arm towards Mikahil, offering him a handshake.

An insurmountable amount of relief washed through Mikhail as he saw the royal guard stretch out his hand. Before taking it though, a short, sharp whistle escaped his lips, signalling Rollo to slow the hell down and not trample the knight. Then he took the man's hand and used it to pull himself up before returning the gesture. Despite his worse nature, the cavalier found he was developing a sense of respect for the axe-fighter.

"You have reached a level of stubbornness that I can only dream of reaching," he said with a smirk. "I'm Mikhail Faust and I hope to someday take your place. I'd ask for your name but-," he paused, motioning with a slight jerk of his head to the knight's wound, "It seems I'll have to wait on that."

Rollo pranced up to the emerald lancer like the smug jack ass that he was and nudged his face with an all too wet snout, his eyes gleaming as if to say, "Look, I helped!"

A bow of the head was the warrior's response as he returned to the line of Royal Guards. He released his neck, exposing the wound for the magician to heal in the same fashion as the assassin. After a moment of incantations and a roll of the head, Mikhail's opponent looked as if the duel never happened. The same couldn't be said for him, with dirt coating his armor and bruises covering his skin. As he too made way back to Trignita, one other guardsman stepped forward, ready to take his turn.

The lancer scanned each of the recruits with intense scrutiny before tapping the butt his spear on the ground several times, and pointing the tip towards Azi.

"I don't see a weapon on you, that clearly isn't a mage's tome," he pointed out the music book that Azi carried. "Do you fight?" he asked the bard with genuine curiosity.

A quick scan of the battlefield. Most of the bandits were dead, the captive had been freed, albeit with a bloody wound, but nothing the healer couldn't fix. These bandits hadn't been so tough after all, they must've taken the other squad by surprise. Unforunate, but it meant her own chances of being selected for the royal guard were better. The only remaining threat was the wyvern, rider, and bandit plummeting downwards. Diana ran forward towards the base of the cliff they descended from, led by the twinkling kunai of Pauline, below the wyvern. Perhaps the bandit would die. Perhaps not, better to be there with a spear ready for him than risk him living and causing more damage. After all she'd only gotten to kill one person today and that didn't feel like enough. She had to prove she was contributing!

Azi watched the duels intently, wanting to help, but knowing that doing so would likely cause trouble. Following Mikhail's fight, the lancer caught his attention by tapping his weapon on the ground. Simply from the tone of his question, Azi could tell that the man doubted whether he actually had the ability to fight. "If necessary, I can," he replied, putting on a gentle smile. "I do prefer to avoid killing, though." Azi took a stance, holding his quarterstaff at waist-level. He kept his grip much shorter than normal, but that style was well-tuned for precision and made it easier for him to disarm his opponents. "Pardon me," he said as he dashed in.

Azi figured that, if he ran in, the lancer would be surprised and attack. However, since it would be sudden, his opponent's attack would be predictable and easy to counter. From there, if he succeeded, he would be able to disarm him, or at least dodge and knock him down by hitting the back of his knee. "It'd still be much easier if he didn't react," Azi thought to himself as he closed in.

“I am quite alright thanks to you Lady Joan,” The mage responded to her inquiry, taking her hand to get back to his feet, resting on her shoulder as she finished healing him. "I truly appreciate the assistance."

Tybalt had always appreciated the staff, and their wielders. The expedited healing Joan had given him certainly showed she was more than competent in the healing arts, making her a blessing to have on the battlefield. While he wanted to say more, Hyakuya had drifted in with the bandit hostage, showing she had been injured as well and asking for Joan to heal her. Joan's attention would most likely immediately go to that, so Tybalt hurried off towards the remainder of the conflict. He would have to remember to show his thanks to Joan later when they returned to camp.

As he returned to the battle, he grimaced as he felt the area which he had been struck, his skin as smooth as if he had never been hid at all, a testament to Joan’s healing power. However, this left his more important gripe; his outfit had been ruined in the course of the battle.

“Those miscreants! This was Jotenvarr satin!” He whined, “Do they have any idea how much this costs?”

He sighed, there was no point in continuing to complain when they had a fight to win, and this fight was very much in their favor. By his count, there were only two men left, and both were visible from his position.

He could see the bandit leader was far more talented than his brethren, leaping onto the wyvern and threatening Alexandra with a fair bit of confidence. They were going in a death spin now, driving themselves downward in an attempt to shake him off, or have the three of them slam into the ground.

“Oh gods...please don’t die, Alexandra.” Tybalt whispered, not wanting to see another squadmate be taken in these hellish trials. He wanted to help her, try and shoot the bandit off or somehow physically get up there himself to assist.

But he could do neither, the position the bandit had put them in had been one that made Tybalt entirely useless. Magic was not known for being precise, and blasting at the bandit leader would absolutely engulf the three of them, a sacrifice he could not risk. All he could do was pray that Alexandria knew what she was doing, and that one of his other party members would be able to help.

This did not mean there was nothing Tybalt could do, however, as there was one other player on the field. Hiro had laid an arrow into one of the last bandits, immediately halting his progress towards the party and rendering him immobile, and while Tybalt was more than happy to get revenge for his ruined petticoat, there was something more important than that.

He heard these men speak, their leader especially. They were all men of Alistaf, people from his country, all most likely driven to this state due to the loss of the war. Tybalt’s face drooped in sadness, though he tried to had it by hardening his gaze at the last advancing barrier.

“I’m going to ask you once. Surrender your weapons now, and your life will be spared.” He said, raising his hand to show another Arcfire blast ready to be unleashed. At this range, it would be nearly impossible for the man to sway out of the way of the raging inferno, leaving him little choice if he was a smart man.

The lancer was indeed taken back by Azi's sudden rush into battle right after claiming a preference towards pacifism, but the surprise was by no means enough to falter him. Azi's opponent stepped back and waved his lance before him like a quarterstaff, taking a defensive stance with the butt of the spear pointed at the bard, and the weaponized end resting flat against the outside of his right thigh. He maintained the reverse wield and began strafing to the right to circle around Azi's charge. If Azi continued forward, the lancer would end up due behind him.