Snippet #1515192

"Tsk, tsk... only five, and I don't get to kill them? The world is unkind to me..." Neira murmured, casting a glance at Thanaros and shrugging. "Fine... nonlethality it is then." That meant no stabbing and laying off on the blunt-force trauma. But really? Five? That was a bit sad, wasn't it? Even if she didn't look like much, the guy next to her was half-orc, for the love of all things violent. That had to count for something.

Apparently not, though, and the two surged forward in tandem. She was halfway through a motion that would drive her armored fingers through a pathetically-soft human stomach before she remembered herself and diverted, breaking his collarbone with an open-palmed blow instead. Oops... forgot about that bit. She resolved not to forget again (after all, as much fun as all this fighting business was, she did not particularly care to provoke the entire town into grabbing their torches and pitchforks, so to speak).

So instead of continuing to beat on him for a while, she left his frail, unconscious, not-solder self to roll around on the ground for a while and ducked to avoid the incoming swipe of an honest-to-goodness shovel. Granted, it was clearly a sharpened shovel, and she wouldn't want to meet with the business end of it, but it was still almost funny. Unlike most people, the present situation didn't really prevent any kind of humor from affecting Neira. Quite the contrary, but she wasn't going to waste the time at the moment. Instead, she twisted around behind the elf with the gardening implement, and backhanded him on the posterior of his skull, kicking at the back of his knees to lay him out on the ground.

She was almost hit by the cudgel the next woman was holding, but as expected, Thanaros was there, having dealt with his own two opponents via whatever method he deemed appropriate. His rather large fist struck the woman's temple, and she was out cold. Well, there went five. "Right on time," she said with a smirk, and the half-orc inclined his head before they both turned to the much larger throng of attackers assaulting the others. Thanaros moved to occupy a group of them, but Neira saw something else that required her attention.

She almost, almost sighed, but not quite. "Are you stupid or something?" she demanded testily of Wrath, though frankly she wasn't sure he could hear her. He was presently standing before the sole Child, unarmed, to her knowledge having no unarmed combat training, and for whatever reason not slinging magic around.

It was here that Neira was faced with a choice: do something about it, which she was smart enough to know would be rather risky to herself, or pretend she hadn't noticed it and engage some of the others, maybe get a few off the dark elf and deep human's backs. They at least, had not yet displayed suicidal tendencies. She knew very well what was expected of her; Wrath was the commander of these ranks, and she an ordinary soldier. The answer provided by duty was obvious. Talae and Kisikoni- there was the name- had a bunch more people to deal with than she did, and so did Thanaros now. She was pretty much the logical choice. Screw that.

She also knew what most people would probably assume she would do- namely say to hell everyone else and look out for herself. She rankled at the thought of being so predictable, but also at being shackled by some annoying concept like duty. In the end, she surprised herself, taking off with as much speed as she could manage and slamming her shoulder into Wrath, hopefully knocking him far enough away from the Child that she would take whatever he... she... it had to dole out instead.

Huh... apparently he's not the only stupid one. Good to know it's contagious. Fuck.

---

Fae leaned heavily on the door, which only seemed to help a little. If she had vision to speak of, it would be next to useless anyway. As it was, her sense of balance was nearly completely shot by this point, and she could barely force her thoughts into something resembling a coherent pattern at the moment. For some reason, she decided that she very much needed to be outside, and rushed that way, though she managed to trip and fall as soon as she had accomplished that.

Some vague part of her brain registered shame at this, and she pulled herself into a sitting position beneath the taphouse's awning. The fresh, slightly-chilled air was nice, but she didn't think that moving would be a very good idea right now. No, not at all. Instead, she placed her head between her knees and tried to focus on her breathing. She was tired and she felt sick, but the air was helping a bit.

At least, it was helping enough for her to be embarrassed. What was wrong with her, anyway? She could scarcely think straight, much less speak properly, and she was unable to stand without nearly falling over or smacking into something. Her face colored red up to her ears, and she shook her head at her own behavior. "Talae's going to kill me..." she thought aloud.