He doesn't have the leisure, yet, to look back, she can just offer a silent prayer that it wasn't his ally's skull that just crumpled. Either way, though, the path forward is equally clear. No one leaves.
So when the guard he's fighting thinks he sees Vanya flagging and moves to take advantage of the perceived opening, Vanya doesn't hesitate to exploit the resulting sloppiness. His blade finds the man's hip, the joint where leg connects to body, and bites deep. The scream is such that the merchants, he imagines, may be calculating whether they can run for it.
They can't allow that either.
(He is, however, relieved to see that Ellis is still on his feet, when he's able to turn and check.)
Here is an unforeseen difficulty: they cannot call to each other.
Ellis sounds very Fereldan. Vanya sounds very Nevarran. The uniforms can only smooth over so much.
So Ellis cannot confer with Vanya as to what might be done about the merchants, who will need to be dealt with. What he can do, for the moment, is grab the guard Vanya has gouged and yank him backwards. Hard. All the easier to be dispatched, once on the ground.
A mace does terrible things when brought down upon the head. But it's perhaps better than bleeding to death, so—
No time for ruminating on the matter. There are still guards, and they are still armed. Their work continues.
There is, at least, time for a small nod in the moment between dealing with that guard and moving for the next. Thank you, perhaps, or maybe I understand. Regardless, he doesn't wait for any sort of response.
Instead, he starts moving toward the wagon, where the remaining guards have fallen back. The very evident deaths of their fellows — no one is going to mistake those injuries for nonlethal, even at a distance — has not evidently broken their resolve, though one of them does look a bit shaken. Vanya stops out of their reach and far enough forward that one or more of them will have to move away from the wagon to close with him. Either he'll succeed in breaking them up or the pause while everyone decides what to do will give him a second wind; he'll gladly take either outcome.
Or Ellis will close with them first, he supposes, and then it'll be a more even match.
There's clearly discussion in the wagon, though not loud enough to be easily overheard. Vanya is less worried about that, at least on a practical level; they have horses, they can catch anyone who makes a run for it on foot.
Ellis feels that knowledge like a splinter, though what can be done? There weren't meant to be guards. The Commander had sent them in twos, and neither of them had objected.
At least they can manage these unexpected developments.
Which is why Ellis breaks for the front of the wagon. Vanya will have to manage for the moment, while Ellis cuts the horses loose from the harness. If the owners of this wagon object to that too, he'll deal with it then. Vanya isn't the only one who can hear the rising, fearful argument from within the canvas-covered wagon.
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no subject
He doesn't have the leisure, yet, to look back, she can just offer a silent prayer that it wasn't his ally's skull that just crumpled. Either way, though, the path forward is equally clear. No one leaves.
So when the guard he's fighting thinks he sees Vanya flagging and moves to take advantage of the perceived opening, Vanya doesn't hesitate to exploit the resulting sloppiness. His blade finds the man's hip, the joint where leg connects to body, and bites deep. The scream is such that the merchants, he imagines, may be calculating whether they can run for it.
They can't allow that either.
(He is, however, relieved to see that Ellis is still on his feet, when he's able to turn and check.)
no subject
Ellis sounds very Fereldan. Vanya sounds very Nevarran. The uniforms can only smooth over so much.
So Ellis cannot confer with Vanya as to what might be done about the merchants, who will need to be dealt with. What he can do, for the moment, is grab the guard Vanya has gouged and yank him backwards. Hard. All the easier to be dispatched, once on the ground.
A mace does terrible things when brought down upon the head. But it's perhaps better than bleeding to death, so—
No time for ruminating on the matter. There are still guards, and they are still armed. Their work continues.
no subject
Instead, he starts moving toward the wagon, where the remaining guards have fallen back. The very evident deaths of their fellows — no one is going to mistake those injuries for nonlethal, even at a distance — has not evidently broken their resolve, though one of them does look a bit shaken. Vanya stops out of their reach and far enough forward that one or more of them will have to move away from the wagon to close with him. Either he'll succeed in breaking them up or the pause while everyone decides what to do will give him a second wind; he'll gladly take either outcome.
Or Ellis will close with them first, he supposes, and then it'll be a more even match.
There's clearly discussion in the wagon, though not loud enough to be easily overheard. Vanya is less worried about that, at least on a practical level; they have horses, they can catch anyone who makes a run for it on foot.
no subject
Ellis feels that knowledge like a splinter, though what can be done? There weren't meant to be guards. The Commander had sent them in twos, and neither of them had objected.
At least they can manage these unexpected developments.
Which is why Ellis breaks for the front of the wagon. Vanya will have to manage for the moment, while Ellis cuts the horses loose from the harness. If the owners of this wagon object to that too, he'll deal with it then. Vanya isn't the only one who can hear the rising, fearful argument from within the canvas-covered wagon.