Closed Misfits of the Eastern Road

[Marrick Corvis]

Marrick heard the jingle and loud thump of heavy horse as the column arrived, though the Kelvic would not spare a moment of his focus. He saw the threat before them he saw his enemy and was at this moment contemplating his target. A particularly slow and lumbering shadow as it walked amongst the others held his icy focus. A pity he was no hawk or eagle Kelvic. He could have counted the hairs on their heads or perhaps seen the color of their eyes. Marrick grinned at his companion, sparing him a sidelong glance. The Kelvic had to admit he was excited for some real action. Most of the work he had endured had involved resolving petty disputes between farmers, and breaking up fights at the local dive within Mithryn’s walls. Though his excitement was reined in by the wise words of Ser Iros. With the slightest bit of disappointment on his face Marrick nodded along with a “Aye Ser.” Though they were halted for the moment, Marrick’s fingers tickled the pommel of his blade in anticipation. “Marrick.” Came the familiar and calm, yet commanding voice of Ser Whitevine. “Go with Squire Archailist. Stay low and watch each other’s backs. We’ll swing around and meet you in the middle.” Marrick nodded and tapped Kiter’s sides and set out after the squirrel and his little dog. Maneuvering behind Archailist was difficult to say the least. The little dog could fit into places he couldn’t. Small shrubs sticks and low hanging branches became a bramble of obstacles to avoid. While the squirrels little nimble pup would vault over root, and dodge stones as if they weren’t even there. The kelvic had a hard time tracking them as they moved, yet Archailists mount always seemed to have a look of immense canine pleasure, almost as if it were coursing a hare. Marrick trusted in his animal instincts following more the feeling of where he knew they would be rather than where he saw them. The Kelvic rounded a large stone to find his porcelain compatriot looking over a berm, through a thicket, at the road beyond. As silent as he could, Marrick gently pulled on Kiters reins to slow her down enough for him to dismount, and lead her forward to the point where he needed to leave her behind. A man and a horse made a very large shadow, and a very inviting target. He dropped her lead on the ground and let her grace on whatever vegetation she could find, while he attended to more serious matters. Quietly he came up behind Archailist, a shadow to his small form. The closer he got the lower, until at last he crawled on his belly to the crest of tiny mound of dirt. “What do yeh see wee brother?” Marrick whispered as he looked out at the road, at their quarry, and their victims.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Truthfully, the reason that the squirrel found his riding to become such a breeze, was because of the faith he placed squarely in the dog. It wasn't particularly easy. Every little stone, every branch, the squirrel felt like he needed to pull on the reins, nudge the dog - move him out of the way. But no; Xarex wasn't a stupid dog. His sure feet carried him over the obstacles as if they weren't even there. He actually found himself moderately amazed in how it'd turned out - not that he showed any of that to the other squire. If Archailist could learn how to make his dog take control more often.. heck, he'd have this so-called riding sorted without any worry. Of course.. there were times that he knew he'd have to take hold of the reins and actually show a little control over the dog. But this wasn't one of them. All he needed to do was keep a light grip, a gentle hold.. and only nudge in the general direction he wished to move in. Xarex did the rest; merrily.

In fact, Xarex would have walked straight into the path of the group had the squirrel not given a quick tug on the reins and hauled him to a stop. There, he stopped and he stared. It was a group of possibly twelve or thirteen; half of them evidently armed and the others looking quite worse for wear. Two carts drawn by a horse each, both with two armed slavers on the back; six or seven piled onto the backs of the carts at the back, alongside the few supplies available, and the other armed slavers walking alongside; switching posts most likely to conserve their strength. There weren't any signs of chains or otherwise, but it wasn't hard to differentiate one group from the other. Why on earth they'd be riding down and along the Kabrin Road was anyone's guess though. Slavers, on the road between Syliras and Zeltiva.. the only places he knew that accepted slaves were Nyka, Sunberth, Ravok.. all of the other places up north. He could have said that they were on their way to catching a boat up to Nyka for slave trading, but they were heading in the opposite direction..

Either way, they were heading for Syliras. Again, why on earth, he'd have no clue. But then.. there were some pretty damn stupid crooks lying about the world at that moment. People that thought they could steal from right under the noses of those that were far more powerful, and far more intelligent, than they. He should have stopped them on the spot, but.. there were six fully armed slavers, and only two knights and two squires. As for the slaves.. he had no clue what they would do if attacked. Would they fight in the name of their freedom.. would they fight in the name of their masters to avoid whatever fate awaited them if they resisted? He had no clue. He'd seen many slaves taken but there was always a different story behind them.

Eventually, Marrick.. snuck up beside him? "You know, it's going to be much harder to brace for a sneak-attack if you're lying face-down in the mud." There was no telling how many of the group there truly was.. there could be another six out hunting in the outer edges of the Wildlands, out to return at any moment, for all they knew. It was why the squirrel was still mounted on the back of his dog.. although both of them were drawn up behind a large tree trunk, so there'd be no chance of spying them. "Anyway. Looks to be slavers.. or something. Six armed guards, six or seven in the back. They look.. haggard." There was no better way to describe the group. Dirty, worn,weary.. and even the guards wore signs of some heavy trekking; grim determination in their set faces as they trod alongside the carts. "Ranging from full plate-mail to simple clothes.. long-swords, axes.. Sylir knows what else they could be hiding inside those wagons. Looks a bit rag-tag to me."

[Marrick Corvis]

Marrick cast a disapproving eye on his compatriot for just a moment when he misconstrued Marricks tactical attempts at stealth as foolish. There was only a tic of sternness before he refocused his efforts on the task at hand. A pity that Archailist seemed not to want to work as a team, he had rather liked the fleshy bit of clay. With a furtive effort the Kelvic was able to let the slight roll off his back, he even chewed on a couple of feisty come backs to help lighten the tension Archailist seemed intent on creating between them. The Raven haired Kelvic tried to see as Archailist had, lifting himself easily onto his elbows. It was indeed slavers, the slippery feeling writhed in Marricks gut as he remembered his last few days of captivity. He could see clearly in his memory the agony and horror that the folk before them were facing. He didn’t need to see the trails that their tears made on their filth covered faces. He didn’t need to hear their cries for mercy that would go un-answered. He knew it well, and the soft grinding sound that his teeth made spoke volumes more than his tongue could wag, or his hands could write. “Slavers eh.” He finally hissed through grit teeth. “Not a one on harse back, or carryin a spear. They will fall loike reeds in the wind.” Marrick whispered with a tone that dripped with venom. He watched on for a moment before he retreated slowly if somewhat dirty from the large tree that they hid behind. “Their filth will work the moines, or chop wood in the woilds before this seasons end.” As Marrick crept back to where Kiter was hidden, he contemplated the attack and what would become of them. He had been practicing a little on horseback with his sword, but not as much as he would have liked to. Yet, all the uncertainty and concern for himself and his comrades was crushed by the fact that there were slavers out there in the meadow near the road. The profit made on flesh could be good, as the Kelvic knew all too well. Yet, the risk of going through a place as well patrolled as Syliras was suicide. He gave Kiter a reassuring pat as he took her lead from the loamy ground. “Easy now girl, we’re goin into the foight.” Marrick stroked the mighty war horse’s neck as she leaned into him in what seemed her own way of letting him know that he was safe. “Roight then.” Last words spoken, Marrick stepped into the stirrup and up into the saddle with the subtlest of sounds as his armor settled. With a gentle nudge, he pushed Kiter forward and into view of where Archailist sat atop his dog, and waited. The Kelvic was no strategist extraordinaire, but he did know that people behaved similarly when confronted with danger. If the slavers guards were brave or well paid, they would face the immediate danger as it rode down on them. If they were cowardly or ill treated they would retreat at the first sign of real trouble. As the Raven haired Kelvic considered these factors it seemed prudent to let the Knights take the field first. This would distract or break the enemies focus away from them, the less experienced fighters. This tactic would allow them to sweep in from behind and strike at the enemies weakened flank. “Let the Knoights field farst. When the enemy is distracted we’ll hit them from behoind.” Marrick said with as much confidence as he could muster. He hoped that Archailist would see the wisdom in this course if action, but the little bit of lively earth had shaken his confidence a bit. A soft huff of concern coupled with the furrow in his brow told all as he slipped his helmet over his head and quietly drew his sword. He would follow his orders to the letter. Watch Archailists back. If he darted out into the meadow, Marrick would ride out after him, with as much speed as his horse could muster. For now, he watched carefully just out of sight.

[/quote]

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Suddenly, it seemed like there was so much tension going around. Of course the squirrel didn't really intend for his advice to become so piercing, but that wasn't even the brunt of it. Suddenly, there was practical venom dripping from the man's lips.. enough for the squirrel to give him a second glance before going back to the group that continued on their way - either unaware or simply uncaring. "Easy there.. we don't want to give anyone the wrong idea about this, do we." His voice was much quieter than before as he remained fixed on the group, scanning over them over and over to assure himself that these were what he believed. Bags, likely filled with goodness-knew-what sat around huddles of men, women and children surrounded by armed men.. yep, it really did look like slavers. But just what were they doing on the Kabrin Road. Didn't they know they'd end up caught for what they were doing.. or were they so far out of the city that they were practically on the next region over?

As Marrick reappeared beside him, mounted, the squirrel gently tapped the top of Xarex's head. "Looks like you and I are going to have a bit of fun." Dogs against horses.. that certainly didn't sound like the odds were in his favour, but screw it. He'd try it anyway, in the hopes of just knocking some of them off their feet before Marrick got his hands on them. If he didn't know any better than the sound of the fellow squires voice, he'd think the man was about ready to rip their throats out with just his teeth and nails. "Alright. We'll wait for them to make the first move, we go in from behind and make sure to surround them before they make a move." With any hope, he wouldn't be forced to use too much force, as well.

"Stop." He'd barely managed to get the words out of his own mouth before he heard the rather loud voice of his patron, Ser Iros. Combined with the other mounted knight, they easily filled the road and drew the group to a stalling halt; most of them wearing oddly stunned and surprised expressions as they seemed utterly torn between raising their wepons and lowering them in surrender. What shyke is going on here, then... In moments, the squirrel nudged his mount into a slow trot out into the open, behind the group to ready himself for what may come. With the dogs paws moving with near-silent grace and the imposing figure facing them, none of the group thought to turn back.. not even the slaves, who stared just as boggle-eyed as the slavers. "In the name of the Order, explain yourself and your reasons for wishing to pass Syliras." A better question would have been why the group hadn't been stopped by any other knights on their way.

[Marrick Corvis]

The hair on the back of Marrick’s neck stood on end, as he watched the Knights take the field and bring the people and their carts to a halt. Something in the way the people behaved felt off to the Kelvic. It felt like a leaning toward desperation, almost as if they were refugees. He took a Cleansing breath that ended in a long exhale but it did nothing to improve his thirst to end the desperate lives of the slavers. “Let me clarify moy state o’ moind little brother. Twas only but three seasons ago that Oi moyself was brought inta Syliras in the confoines of a cage. Twas a desperate fool who had no value fer any form o’ loife that lead us through the hills n’ moors.” Marrick took a deep breath as the memories of that dark trip filled his mind’s eye. “He’d rape the women, and ave his men beat them when they wouldn’t comploy. The caravan was smaller than this lot, but the brutality was enough. Oi’ve had enough slavery fer a loife toime n’ oi’ve been about but a few years.” Marricks cold blue eyes seemed two piercing icicles of frost as he watched the two knight’s order for the vagabonds to state their business. “This isn’t fun fer me, moy feisty little friend. This is justice, in the most necessary sart’a way. Folk that prey on the weak, the desperate, n’ starv’ed ‘ave convinced themselves that they live with impunity.” The Kelvic watched the movements of the ragged desperate men as they formed a line to better protect their cargo from the incoming threat. That little doubt kept chewing at the back of his skull. Desperate people did desperate things. They would just as soon run, fight, or surrender. He’d as much watched it unfold in the day to day lives of his fellow slaves. “Oi think yeh may be roight about this group o’ raggedy men little brother.” Marrick chewed his lip for just a moment more trying to gauge the threat before them. When Archailist tapped his mounts sides to spur him into the clearing Marrick followed close behind. “Let’s go Koiter.” He said loud enough to spur the horse into a canter out into the clearing. He kept Kiter at a reasonable pace for Archailists mount to stay ahead of him on the open ground. As the pair drew closer, the Vagabonds took notice of the heavy hoof beats of the Kelvic’s Tiaden Mare. The ideas of escape evaporated from their faces, making their features seem all the more hardened and desperate. It was the usual horse shyke with people trying to get out of trouble. Their leader, or whoever was brave enough to speak was making excuses and trying to pawn them off as the truth. In the meantime, Marrick eyed the ones he took to be slaves. Even going so far as to steer Kiter into a better position to watch them, and measure the fear on their faces. A few seemed truly haggard. Yet no more than the men who guarded them. The Kelvic chewed the inside of his cheek in thought. Just who were these people?

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Most of his concentration was fixated on the situation before him, as he knew it should be. But that didn't mean that he couldn't catch the occasional snippet from the man that stood nearby. If this was anything other than a rather serious issue, he likely would have stopped everything else just to listen - because he had a subtle feeling that it would come in handy in the future. Perhaps once this was all over, they could sit down and have a real chat. But for now, he could only answer in small snippets of conversation. "You're not the only one that's seen slavery before. But as members of the Order, squires or otherwise, we have a duty to not become as brutish as these men are." Sylir forbid that they ever stoop so low as to become exactly what they existed to fight against. As much as it pained him, though, it meant treating even the lowest and vilest scum of the world as human beings - giving them a fair trial, equal chance and opportunity to redeem themselves in the hopes of changing their ways. No matter how little worth it seemed.

"If you're going to be doing this job for the rest of your life, you're going to have to find a way to make it seem fun before you strangle yourself out of boredom." He'd done plenty of jobs before, but this one was going to be the big one. Heck, this was the big one. If he didn't find it fun, he wouldn't be there in the first place.. he never would have returned to Syliras in search of his true form. "You can't spend your entire life moping about because of one little thing. It's too short for that. You and I know that better than any other human or Akalak out there." Just as he spoke, he tilted his head meaningfully towards the two that stood at the opposite side of the caravan. They'd live to a hundred years.. hundreds of years, possibly. They had time to fix mistakes, shift their life, make a difference.. not like them. The Pycon and the Kelvc didn't have such privilege. Although it seemed like only the Pycon truly knew the effect.

Finally, the answer came they were all waiting for. Although.. perhaps not the one they were really expecting. "We're travellers!" It wasn't the armed men that spoke, but one of the men from within the carriage that stood up to speak. His face looked dirty, and he wasn't wearing much better than rags. "These men are our guides and bodyguards.. they are all that we could afford to pay." What had looked to be weapons stored inside rough bags, the people inside the cart were hugging - personal belongings. They wouldn't be hugging them that tightly if they were explosives or anything of the like. Looked like it was a false alarm. "This is my family.. I'm actually a travelling acrobat looking for employment. My wife works with animals." Yep, definitely a false alarm.

Not that they were going to let them pass with just an explanation. "Squires Marrick and Archailist, search the cart and the bags. The rest of you, I need you to line up here. We need to check for any signs of hidden weapons."

[Marrick Corvis]

Like the first day of spring as it shed its coat of frost, Marrick shrugged away a measure of his concern when the men introduced themselves as travellers. Yet the Raven Kelvic’s sigh was more for the wise words of his little friend. Focussed as he was on the potential danger before them he still considered the Pycon’s words. Something in Archailist’s candour though left Marrick thinking he didn’t quite understand. How could anyone who had not been party to that experience. Yet his efforts did endear the little squirrel to him. Another cleansing breath through his nose and he felt better. The Pycon was right after all. The pair of them were but little flames that burned brightly, only to extinguish too soon. When the Order came down, Marricks distracted mind clapped back into pure focus on their task. “Aye Ser!” He said with a nod to Archailist. After a simple salute he slid his long sword into its sheath with the tender whisper of metal against leather. Marrick dismounted purposefully and strode forward through the soft grass, a confident swagger to his walk. He could practically taste the tension on his tongue as it fell off the frightened folk in waves. Why were they so afraid of the Knights of Syliras? If they had nothing to hide, they had nothing to fear. In his heart of hearts he hoped that they were not what he suspected As he approached the back of the wagon he offered his hand to the folk to help them down. “Tis alroight.” He said with a voice soft as silk. “Yeh’ are under the protection o’ the Order. Be nae afraid.” With some additional coaxing the one closest to the back stepped forward and the Raven Kelvic searched his face for similarities to the rest. “This’ll jest take a tic.” He said with a face cool and as intense as a blizzard. There were five of them in the back in all. A gaunt woman held her two little ones close to her breast, a look of absolute terror in her eyes. Two a little older grasped their luggage like it was more precious than Mizas. The last was a brave little boy, no more than forty eight seasons who stood in between them and their mission, his fists clenched. He was slightly less gaunt than the woman Marrick could only assume was the boy’s mother. He stood with his feet steadfastly planted to the planking of the cart. The Kelvic exhaled a long slow dragging breath as he prepared himself mentally for the task of convincing a child that he was endangering his family. In truth he would have rather brawled with Sei Tendo. With slow purposeful movement he removed his gloves exposing the pale pink of his hands. “Tis alroight choild, Ye aren’t in any danger, nor is yer kin.” The Kelvic took a defensive step back. “Easy now ladd, we jest need teh take a wee look at yer cart. Oi promise teh Sylir’ n Yahal that yeh will be alroight. A quick look, jest me n’ the wee squirrel.” Marrick was about to give up hope of anything short of physically moving the boy from their path, but at the mention of the world squirrel the little boys eyes opened a little wider and he stuck his head out the door to ogle Archailist atop his canine steed. “Anna, Luc, come and look. Mother, mother come and see!” the little boy cried as he glanced quickly between Marrick and Archailist. For good measure the Kelvic took another step back from the cart giving the child and his family space enough to hop down. He watched with a subtle amusement as they walked over to Archailist with their faces full of childlike innocence and curiosity. If they'd have had tails they would have been wagging in excitement. Marrick watched the faces of their body guards and of the man in charge, seeking the slightest glint of betrayal. He still wasn’t certain their story was the truth, but he wanted to believe they were just as he said. It certainly was a lot of people to feed on a performer’s wages. He even spared Archailist an apologetic glance as he helped the gaunt woman from the cart as she still held her youngest child. As he brought her to the sun warmed earth he used the opportunity to whisper a question to her. Soft and subtle as he could manage, outside earshot of even Archailist. “Are yeh alroight lass? Are they hurtin yeh?” A measure of clarity hit the Kelvic as he was there close enough to smell the woman. It was as if the obvious had been there in front of him. The curiosity of puppies, the gaunt faces and the woman did smell of dogs. The possibility that most if not all of them were dog Kelvics sprang to life in Marricks mind. Yet the man had said she worked with animals. Perhaps that was all it was.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

While Marrick dismounted, unfortunately the squirrel could not even hope of reaching up so high into the carriage that he could climb up himself. He could try, and likely he'd eventually get to that point.. but he'd be standing around for quite a while, making a fool of himself if he did. It was better to draw Xarex a little closer and keep an eye on the group as Marrick attempted to coax them. He didn't really like being stuck in the middle of the road - sure, they had two knights standing in place not too far away, and indeed they weren't too far away from the citadel. They were still outside of the city, however. They were still on a road, bridging the Wilderness itself, out where there were many dangerous things that could turn on them with the drop of a hat.

When he talked about dangerous things, though, he meant vagabonds and thieves and murderers that trailed far and wide from Sunberth in the hopes of praying on unwitting travellers. Not a sudden crowd of children. He'd barely heard the first words coming from a small boy before he hopped off the back of the cart and rushed over - followed by a few more people that completely obscured his vision with their small bodies. Even the mother was soon towering above him, with even smaller children in her arms. One of them poked him, and he immediately turned his head towards him. "You know, I'm not a piece of pottery." There was a slight recoil from the hands, but they still seemed pretty interested. Not that they really said much, as if they were still grasping the concept that a squirrel could talk, even if he wasn't actually a squirrel. "Come on, let's get you over this way." He nudged Xarex into a tentative walk, and the group followed closely behind.

Things seemed to be running pretty damn well. Up until the moment an arrow shot from between the trees to the far right, and slammed against the edge of the cart with enough force to have the tip protruding from the opposite end of the wood, wobbling. The scene changed so quickly, the squirrel barely had any time to react at all. In a flash, Ser Iros had dismounted and the huge tower shield was being used to cover himself as well as a small portion of the group that hadn't already been ushered behind the now-empty cart. Apparently not fast enough, however. An arrow sped from the bushes and managed to embed itself in the gaunt woman's calf, sending her down to her knees in an instant. Thankfully she just about managed to turn onto her back in time to stop herself crushing the two children she still cradled close.

The men that had stood guard around the cart in loose order showed their colours then - immediately boxing around the side of the cart, preparing themselves for combat and ready to protect the group. These were obviously fairly seasoned warriors by the way they went about things in a fairly calm and collected manner. Even Iros didn't seem all too bad. Arch and his mount were both at a complete loss however - glancing back and forth to the terrified and screaming children, the mother in absolute agony and the man that'd stood at the head of the cart right beside her, trying to comfort her. "We need to form a strategy. The group stays near the cart and the rest of us find the archers and deal with them." They didn't know how many archers there were, but they soon knew why they were here.

"Hey! Surrender all of your valuables, now! All food, all drink, everything." The voice came from beyond the treeline.

[Marrick Corvis]

The woman shook her head and smiled at him through her dark messy hair, and the Kelvic at last felt better about the situation they were in. He let the woman go and watched with a peaceful smile for just a moment as the crowd of people followed Archailist to the far side of the wagon. A sigh of relief resounding in his chest Marrick climbed into the back of the wagon. Everything seemed ordinary. Bags full of clothing some frillier than others. A couple bags of Mizas. Some poles, and other gear for an entertainer. There was even a folded bit of netting. It seemed they were exactly who they said they were. Marrick was about to exit the cart when he heard the distant twang of a bow and the thunk of an arrow as it drove through the side planking of the cart inches from his arm. Awkwardly he scrambled to the far side of the cart and laid down waiting for more to come. Marrick couldn’t see what was happening outside but he prayed the pained yelp was not a death throw. Since he could hear the gaunt womans cries of pain, he could only assume that her wound wasn’t mortal for the moment. Not wasting time, Marrick rolled out of the cart and onto the ground with an air wrenching thud before crawling to safety beneath the wooden planking of the vehicles floor. “Oof.” As quick as a man on fire he scrambled to safety. He looked at Ser Iros, and Ser whitevine, who’s attentions seemed focused on protecting the folk of the cart, then at Archailist who looked torn between the people and their hidden enemies. His heart was beating like the birds within him. A plan, a strategy, an angle. Marrick chewed on his lip and thought hard. He thought on their enemy, he thought on the various strategies of attack. Ser Iros was a massive target, as was their horses, who would do little good to them if they were shot down while they rode down their enemy. They would need a distraction if they had any hope of using them as cavalry. The Kelvic eyed around the corner watching the woods from where the arrows had flown, yet could see nothing. As he turned about an idea began to form in his head, foolish and dangerous as it was. It might actually work. Silently he motioned for people’s attention until he had them at least listening. “Yer all foine targets fer a skilled bowman, roidin them down on harse, or dog, back would be dangerous fer yerselves n’ our mounts. Can any of yeh roide?” Marrick whispered softly. One of the guardsman from the caravan raised his hand and nodded. “Roight, ye’ll be takin moy harse. She’s calm enough jest don’t kick her too hard or she’s loike teh boite yeh.” “While we’re here n’ they’re over there they have mobility on us. We need to get them teh stop movin, n’ focus on something else while yeh move inta position.” Marrick wiped some dirt on the road clear so he could draw on it with his finger. “Plan A, Archailist and Oi fly over there, and create a diversion in their loine. Get them shootin at one another, and then the rest o’ you lot ride in n’ handle the rest.” Marrick looked calm and confident, yet the slightest glint of fear lurked behind his eyes. “Plan B, We form a shield wall and approach on foot, they can foire arrows at us all day ifn’ they loike, but then we’d be in trouble when we entered the woods.” For a moment Marrick took a deep breath and nodded. “Oi’d say plan A would have the least amount o’ casualties n’ they wouldn’t expect a raven n’ a squirrel teh hamper their progress.” The Raven hair Kelvics face took on a measuring furrow as he looked at Archailist. “How much do yeh weigh little brother?”

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Arch could tell that he'd be splitting ways with his canine companion for now - the squirrel knew as well as Marrick did that riding into the forest was just asking for danger. The dog remained close to the squirrels side, even after Arch released the reins and slid down from his side. Not that he minded in the least - if anything, he wrapped an arm around the dogs neck in comfort and to keep him close as he worked his way around the side of the cart, to try and guide the others into place behind the cart and out of the sight of the arrows repeatedly thumping against the cart. Thankfully they slowed after a few moments, but they didn't stop completely - they were looking to try and get around, between the gaps somewhere. He still didn't know how close they were, so he wasn't really ready to wait long enough for them to be able to launch a hit straight through the middle of what little cover stood between innocent civilians and whoever was hiding behind the tree-line.

As things slowly quietened down to a stand-off between the two groups, the knights and hired guards alike found the time to turn attention to the one squire with the plan - including Arch. He couldn't agree more. "Nobody will be able to ride into that.. not with them holed up and with no way to see where they are or how many of them there are either." They were looking at a clear disadvantage. There was one pretty obvious and sensitive thing to do before they thought about a plan of attack. Even as Marrick spoke, the squirrel bit his lip for the longest of moments as he listened to the two tactics unfold before them all. "I think we need to send someone back.. there's no reason we have to do all of this by ourselves. If we take Plan A, create a diversion and get enough attention for the others to arrive on horseback and engage the others, then at the same time we can send someone else out on a different horse to head back to Syliras as fast as they can and return with more knights." Granted, it'd be late. But it'd be a back-up plan. It'd cost them a horse but it wasn't like they could just run out into the open and not keep some kind of back-up plan.

"Either way.. I think we should go with Plan A. Although... I do weigh 23 pounds." He spoke rather sheepishly for that part - it wasn't like he could actually control his weight, unfortunately. Usually he liked being so dense because it proved incredibly helpful when he was in battle - he never thought that he'd need to be carried into the air by a raven Kelvic to be dropped down amongst an unknown amount of enemies, though. He'd barely finished talking when he heard the crimson Akalak speak his own mind too. "My shield and spear would offer the best protection in a shield wall, but I don't think it'll be as effective if nobody else uses them. Your kite shields will do nothing. Either Squire Archailist will be dropped amongst the thieves by Squire Corvis, or I'll throw him there." The man was dead-serious too. He had the muscle for it.