Graakt watched as the Knights poured in, and immediately turned his back away from them, keeping his eyes on them. He watched his winged companions flutter up to safety, as he brought his heavy fists up. Many people drew their weapons and fought the Knights in direct combat, but that was bound to lead to their deaths. Knights needed fought from the shadows. Graakt looked over his shoulder and saw a doorway in the back. He slowly crept back, watching the knights cut people down like the mass of weapons and armor they were. 

Several knights with heavy crossbows entered, and with a shout, they noticed Cole over the doorway, though Cecielle had picked a more ideal hiding spot. The swarm of knights fought their way to the center of the hall, with more outside the front door, cutting down any that may attempt to escape that way. Graakt hustled back through the rear door way, into a storage room, presumably for the goods. He watched the knights rush the stage and set up the crossbowmen. More and more of the gang members rushed in from the back and the entire place turned into a bloody mess. But the crossbowmen were the deciding factor as bolt after bolt was loosed into the crowd and rafters. Graakt ran down the long storage room to the opposite door that led to the stage. It was locked, and heavy, and he doubted he could break it down. 

His eyes fell on the hinges. They were rusted and old. He looked around the storage room, and found a set of heavy chained manacles. He picked them up, and hefted their weight, swinging them, testing them. It took many attempts but he managed to smash the upper hinges off. He lowered his shoulder and bashed his weigh through the weakened door. The lower hinge calved off, and the door fell hard onto the stage, Graakt atop it. From his prone position he threw his chain at the nearest of the three crossbowmen. It struck the main in his unarmored hands, breaking several bones. Graakt was up on his feet as he charged toward the other two, clearly distracted by the large orc. He threw a sloppy right hook at the injured man, catching him in the side of the face, throwing him to the ground, sending pain up his hand and wrist. He kept his momentum as he reached down and picked up his chain, turning swiftly to one side as he swung it, catching the second in the crossbow, knocking it heavily from his hands. Graakt kept charging as he tackled into the man, knocking him into the third. 

They fell into a pile and Graak took that time to rain blows of fist and chains upon the men's faces. His hands hurt something fierce as he stood, more knights heading toward him, swords drawn.