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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 2741005" data-attributes="member: 15187">Gerard gave a triumphant shout when the horse finally quit the field. Fixing his eye on a capering leper, he reached for his sword only to clutch at empty air. His stomach lurched sickeningly as he remembered having left his rapier at his lodgings. Noticing Gerard’s predicament, the leper skipped forward, club raised to deliver a devastating blow. The lumbering crash of the crate delivered the young nobleman from the strike as the shock thundered his opponent to its knees. Gerard leapt back from the impact and nearly tripped over a discarded pike. The abandoned weapon very nearly proved his undoing as it prompted him to improvise an unlikely attack. The inexperienced warrior attempted to retrieve the weapon, avoid the attacks of his recovering opponent, stab said opponent with the pike all the while voicing a quick prayer of thanks to Laster for the fortuitous intervention. The outcome was a haphazard flailing of limbs as Gerard tried to pull his body in three directions at once. It was all he could do to avoid spilling himself to the cobbles. Through some miracle, or perhaps the boundless exuberance of youth, he managed to fumble the pike to hand and assay a moderately successful thrust at his foe. He barely had time to collect himself before a narrow length of steel skewered past the edge of his vision, causing him to flinch reflexively away from Stravarius’ ill directed thrust. His anger at the careless stroke turned to surprise when he noted that the rapier’s blade emitted a pale blue glow.From his position far removed from the conflict, Mortec felt somewhat impotent in exerting an influence. Trying to control his frustration, he drew a bead on one of the lepers. The poor light and chaotic whirl of the battle daunted him, the many hours spent shooting at motionless target butts had in no way prepared him for this. Mortec tried to follow the motion of his target and then jerked excitedly at the trigger as his victim leapt forward to crash a blow at Gerard. The crossbow kicked at his touch, propelling the bolt whirring above the heads of friend and foe alike. The gnome ground his teeth in fury as he doggedly began to crank his instrument again. The destruction caused by the falling crate had proved to be a turning point. The confusion it wrought gave Argonne the time to regain his feet and ready his staff. Whirling his weapon with practised familiarity, he crashed its tip into the nose of one of his opponents. A slight shift of position and a dagger thrusting at his belly was turned aside. The hardy woodsman fought in stark contrast to his companions, whose inept strikes betrayed their unfamiliarity with their weapons. Perhaps inspired by Argonne’s cool conduct, the remaining guards renewed their exertions and each slew an opponent. The Duchess’ protectors had gained the ascendancy. Argonne, Stravarius, Gerard and two guards faced three lepers, two of whom had only just regained their feet. Even as the combatants momentarily paused to collect themselves, another brandy bottle arched in and caught a leper in the ribs. A second bottle spun in on a different trajectory, smashing another assassin in the face and blinding him with brandy and shards of glass. Moxadder had joined Bastien in flinging the volatile spirits. The lepers wavered, whatever the force that united them so resolutely in their purpose was broken. With ghastly cries they each ran their own way. Gerard and Stravarius lunged eagerly at the fleeing bodies but their excitement ill served their aim and the skins of their foes went unpierced. Argonne proved more able, smashing his staff into a foe and hurling him to the ground. The guards used this opportunity to disengage from the melee and run towards their liege, who leaned insensible in her saddle some distance away. One of the lepers also ran in that direction while the another weaved blindly towards Moxadder and the water, clawing at its bleeding face all the while. A crossbow bolt passed just over its shoulder as Mortec finally started to find the range of his opponents. Seeing the helpless state of the oncoming leper, Moxadder kept his calm as the distance between them rapidly closed. A judicious nudge sent the fugitive flying on a flat trajectory that ended in the scummy water of the harbour. The cold, black water swallowed its sudden gift and the leper passed from both sight and life.While the battle had been raging, Morgan had tried his best to succour the duchess. The task proved difficult for the mount was intractable, and even after it was soothed, the Lady’s concussion proved equally vexing. What the Duchess herself felt about a commoner pawing at her was difficult to ascertain and in any case, she was unable form a coherent response. The booted steps of the guards and the slapping of feet on stone intruded upon Morgan’s concentration and he turned just in time to block the path of an onrushing leper. With a strangled shout Morgan lunged with his dagger and succeeded in pinking the assassin’s shoulder and forcing him back. The leper then lurched unexpectedly forwards as a fast running Gerard scored the point of his pike across its ribs. In the distance, Mortec crouched on one knee as he deliberately raised his crossbow for another try. Embarrassment was his foremost emotion as he gripped the stock of his weapon. Certain that the others thought him a useless coward, he hoped to make amends with his final shot. With a sighing prayer to his deity, he took careful aim. The din and drang of battle receded and for a brief moment he saw his target silhouetted against the dying rays of the sun. Almost of its own volition, his finger squeezed the trigger and the bolt leapt powerfully forward. One heartbeat, two, the complex tableau froze in his perception, then the shaft of the bolt and the leper’s head became one, joining in a gruesome kiss that transfixed the body and then stretched it out on the ground.</blockquote>

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