Here we go again. Taria had decided to follow Aemon's group, her sword drawn as they entered. Once again she was at awe of the rest of the fighters. They all looked like scumbags at the moments; how were they able to differentiate from ally to enemy?
She'd had half a mind of staying behind, perhaps returning to the ship, one fight being enough for the day. However, it had not seem quite the Greyjoy thing to do, and besides that, she didn't want to be labeled the coward who stayed behind, especially when she had no injuries, unlike Ellion. Not just that, she did owe Arak for saving her life all those days back on the ship during the pirate attack. This was a lost battle for the pirates anyway; the least she could do was show her face there, sword in hand, even if it didn't exactly gut anyone... right?
Those weren't the sole reasons she had come along though. Her thoughts returned to a little while earlier, when Ser Aerion Goldfyre had spoken to her. It had been the first time they had actually had a proper conversation; she put herself at fault for that, being the loner wallflower type. In any case, remembering his words caused the doubt filled thoughts in her mind to absolve. These people here, her comrades... they believed she could fight and they were willing to fight beside her.
Lady Greyjoy... Perhaps it was that title that spur her on even more. There was pride in a name but there was burden as well, just like her father had told her, yet he and her Aunt Asha had lived up to their name. Be it a fight on a ship, in a field, against soldiers or pirates, they had upheld the Greyjoy name, and the Drowned God had kept them safe and protected.
She had accepted Aerion's kind words with a thanks, bowing her head slightly as she had listened to the rest of what he had to say. She had also decided that it'd do best to fight with two skilled fighters by her side rather than skulking in the corners.
Hands gripping her sword tightly, she too had jumped into the fray. Once more the battle fever came upon the Greyjoy, a smile on her face as she realized she was indeed better than she thought. Not as good as her companions by any means, but unless the Drowned God forsook her, she would not be dying today. At one point she caught sight of Ser Aerion in a fight with a rather skilled sword wielding opponent. She cussed under her breath; it seemed the other man was getting the better of her comrade. Filled with resolve, she rushed forward, plunging her sword into his side.
From there onward, things were a blur as Taria turned from one enemy to the next, a slight grin on her face as she cut down her foe. Perhaps the Ironborn blood in her veins was coming to life after a lifetime of purposefully keeping away from conflict. Her hand stilled, however, when she heard the knight speak, calling for them to allowed the pirates and mercenaries to surrender. She wasn't sure if she agreed with such action. These people were the same sort who wouldn't spare a woman or child if it meant coin. More often than not, mercy simply meant scum like those being asked to yield would return to their misdeeds.
Still, Taria remained silent. Even if she was legitimized now, she did not believe she had a say in such matters.