There's a sword, and not armor, because poorly-dressed strangers rifling priceless artifacts in the dead of night seldom wait politely while you struggle on your fucking vambraces —
"Drop," The jerk of her chin to the chest; her eyes don't leave Yseult, straining to judge Darras from their corners. Must be Buckles, and that'd be worse odds if the guard and Ashara weren't themselves a few paces away. How the Scoutmaster's gotten the tip-off, she can only guess. Right now, it seems like a later question. "Hands in front of you."
(Someone should probably make that sooner.)
The guard's face bobs into view at her shoulder, expression mingling relief and concern to come out looking as though he badly needs to pee. He lingers, uncertain whether he's meant to clear the way for Beleth or charge before her; settles for inching back, fingers wrapped around his own blade. Discretion is the better part of valour. And he really does need to pee.
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There's a sword, and not armor, because poorly-dressed strangers rifling priceless artifacts in the dead of night seldom wait politely while you struggle on your fucking vambraces —
"Drop," The jerk of her chin to the chest; her eyes don't leave Yseult, straining to judge Darras from their corners. Must be Buckles, and that'd be worse odds if the guard and Ashara weren't themselves a few paces away. How the Scoutmaster's gotten the tip-off, she can only guess. Right now, it seems like a later question. "Hands in front of you."
(Someone should probably make that sooner.)
The guard's face bobs into view at her shoulder, expression mingling relief and concern to come out looking as though he badly needs to pee. He lingers, uncertain whether he's meant to clear the way for Beleth or charge before her; settles for inching back, fingers wrapped around his own blade. Discretion is the better part of valour. And he really does need to pee.