Open [Bronze Woods] Looks Aren't Everything.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The harsh glares and sharp words of both the squirrel and the armored knight melted away like snow on a crisp spring morning. Iros lifted the spear as though Clemens' weight on the end was little more than a child's grasp, helping him back up to his feet before resetting the pole against his back with similar leather straps attached between the seams of his plate-mail. Archailist had no such luxury; when he stepped back and repeated the motion, the shaft of the pole sunk half an inch into the clay of his back before settling. He was a little too small for a harness and wearing one would just impede his movement even more than it already was with a big pole sticking over one shoulder that was well over the height of the Pycon already. If the squirrel wasn't so tiny, or Iros wasn't stuck on the back of the horse, both of them would have come forward to help Clemens.. but for all the good it did they sat back and waited.

"Doubt you'll get anything, even with traps. Bury them under the snow and you might get lucky, but I wouldn't put all my bets down on it, if I was you." Archailist had some doubts but didn't bother voicing them, since the one animal that he could think of being caught in this season and weather was the one they were hurrying to avoid before darkness set in. Wolves. He shivered at just the thought of them. Big packs searching and hunting down the smallest morsels.. even those that unfortunately took the shape of a squirrel. "It's no problem, any way. We were about to turn that way too." The Akalak was ready to get going sooner rather than later; as soon as the halberd was fixed back up and thanks were given, he turned and snapped the reins to drive in a swift trot.

Arch took a space next to Clemens, mostly because he couldn't really hope to catch up with the horse - only partially because he really wanted to talk with the human.. if he was actually a human. "What? It's true." Completely unaware just how those few choice words had cut deep into the frankly rather ugly man, the squirrel took the moment he bent over as an opportunity to hop up and grapple onto whatever fabric he could find on Clemens' hip to climb up his side and over his shoulder-blade to sit comfortably on the shoulder. A rather comfy place and a perfect way to avoid a long and tedious walk back to Stormhold all in one. "So wait, wait. You came out here without any traps or anything, with the only weapon being this.. halberd?" He gestured back to the long, clunky metal weapon with a short little laugh at the back of his non-existent throat.

"You know that you're never going to hit anything with that thing, right? I mean, I'm sure it's great at some things.. but I don't get why you even bother with it." For some reason, he couldn't see anyone succeeding in taking down a deer with one of them. Perhaps with a spear.. definitely not with an axe.. but some strange mutant combination of the two? Not a chance. Then again, it sort-of fitted the wielder. Both owner and weapon had a weird crooked nose.

[Clemens Kos]

Walking like this felt much like having to walk down an isle of a walk of shame. Not only did he capture nothing, he was assaulted by an odd squirel, almost killed by a knight who's biceps is probaly thicker than his head, and now was escorted back because he looked like he couldn't even stand his fight against a deer - or that's what he was getting the vibe from the pycon from. Then again, honestly speaking they were right. He did leave his snares at home, but simply because it completely left his mind, for one, and second he wasn't really out to hunt in the first place. He simply hoped to try his luck, or unluck at this time. He decided to keep a clear head through the most of it, and simply hope they would arrive at their destination without feeling degraded more than he actually is. As he watched the knight on his mighty horse, he quickly realized he wasn't getting much of anything from him, as he was infront of the two. The pycon, however, looked like he was about to join him. That, or he simply didn't feel like walking too much. The coat he was on got a few sublte tugs, and the next thing the masked human realized, is that the little squire nested himself on his shoulder, relaxing as if being on a cruise. Not to mention his shoulder still lightly aching from the previous assault he got from him. But he had to give one thing to the pycon. He was quite fast. Almost too fast. being able to climb so fast could pose quite a lot of an utility. A moment of silence passed him, as he tried to imagine how helpful it would be to climb up a tree, and leap down on game without them knowing. He blinked his eyes, however, as that quickly turned into a stupid idea, even if in his head. He'd probably end up with broken bones, and still be without any game to bring home. Not worth, at all. His odd daydreaming about skydiving was interupted, however, as the pycon spoke up. He took a moment to look at him, simply going to indicate to him that he is indeed listening, even though he somewhat shook himself as he was kicked back in the world of the living. Inquiring about his choice of weapon, and how inefficient it would be to hunt with it. Again, the squirrel was correct on the matter, as the man had little to no arguments for it. He didn't really use it for hunting to begin with, but rather to keep someone from hunting him. He enjoyed the fact he was someone with an intimidating factor in his gear and choise of arms, but for hunting...He really should of picked up those snares from home. "Well...It got out of my head, honestly. I have some snares in my room. I should of probably taken them with me, huh?" He finally spoke out, to answer the man. His voice didn't seem to be breaking any more, and save for the slight muffed sound his mask was providing, he didn't sound all that scared anymore, as well. One thing that was better with traveling with knights is that, once you pass the initial test of not being a murderer, they wont backstab you later down the line unless provoked. So he hoped that thing was still there. He didn't really feel like testing his strength against someone that trains arms probably every day. Nope, not one bit. "I like the weapon, though. It gives me enough reach, and two ways of protecting myself. Not to mention I can reach for something far above me with it. It's helpful, even though a little bit odd at times." He explained further, remembering the times where he was casually passing by, managing to sneak out an apple or two on a branch that would otherwise be out of his reach. Then again, the little pycon probably wouldn't have such problems. First thing, he probably doesn't eat apples, and second, even if he did he could probably climb up, and down faster than he could draw his weapon. He sighed, once again proving how good climbing actually could be. Maybe, after the snow vanishes, and it becomes warmer outside, he'd try his luck and climb himself. He did buy something to help him with that, a while ago. He hummed, nodding to himself. "Don't take this the wrong way, please, as I don't want to be insultive or anything...But, just what are you? I never seen anything like you. You can speak. Too fast for me to keep up, and...You're most certainly not a human." He wanted an answer. He really needed one. Even in his dreams, talking with a squirrel was a far-fetched idea.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

One of the squirrel's paws raised up and settled back over the shaft of the Py-Pole, hanging over the edge casually as he listened. "Probably. Lucky you managed to remember the big pole, otherwise you'd be killing foxes with your bare hands", the squirrel snorted. True enough, Arch was guilty of gaining a few holes in his head and forgetting one too many important things to take on various patrols and other walks around cities. The outcomes were almost always worse than nearly being executed by passing knights though; sooner or later, things began to burn into his nexus.

"Gotta admit though.. it doesn't look like a bad weapon. Bet you couldn't land a hit on me though." The squirrel even followed it with a cheeky elbow just underneath Clemens' jaw, through the leather mask, even though he was being completely serious. New weapons were new challenges for the squirrel.. he never knew when he might come across someone who wanted to kill him with one of those. "Doesn't matter how much reach you've got with it, won't happen when I'm on your ankles, I'll tell you now." For all he joked, he sort-of wished he had a hook similar to that of the halberd on the top of his own Py-Pole. It'd certainly be useful.. he often needed to grapple things much higher than he could reach, and climbing up after everything was such a chore.

In fact, with a hook on the end of his Pole, he could lift himself up onto much higher surfaces and climb with such ease! Swing around off the bottom to gain more momentum! The ideas just kept flooding through his head quicker than the little squirrel could even register them. Lost in his own little world, the squirrel obliviously settled back against Clemens' shoulder and stretched his legs so that they hung over the edge of the half-plate. I could hook the pole into the gaps in armor and tug pieces down so much easier.. cause more damage in combat, get things done so much quicker outside of it. That settled it. He was going to go out, find someone to modify his pole, and add a hook on it somewhere. Perhaps the blade was a bit too far. As much as Archailist hated to admit it, he was utterly horrid when it came to actually swinging a pole. Not enough strength in his arms.

"Huh? Really?" Finally, back to the land of the living. Then again, it wasn't very alive now. Silence must have lasted for several ticks before he remembered that he was actually supposed to be in a damn conversation. "Pycon. Made of clay, change shape, children of the great god Harameus and blessed with his abilities of transformation.." He recited the lines as though they were learned and spoken a thousand times already, for a reason too. They had been. By now, it just wasn't a surprise any more when someone had to ask just what he was and how he could do what he did. He wished, he hoped, he prayed, but nobody even had the faintest clue what a Pycon was, despite the fact that there were quite a number of them already living in or around Syliras - three of them in the Order, and more scattered throughout the city.

[Clemens Kos]

It seemed he got a new conversation partner. The squire, even though way smaller than Clemens was, seemed to be quite knowledgable about the whole notion of combat. That, and also possesing an interesting sense of humor. Of course he didn't like the fact it was slightly mocking, and directed towards him, but he couldn't even begin to explain that he actually tried to capture a fox with his bare hands, with his weapon resting on his back the whole time. He gulped down some salvia that was gathering in his mouth, trying to clear his throat, and remove the feeling of utter incompetence. He knew it was possible hunting without a weapon, but he couldn't even do it with one, so he really shouldn't try that ever again. Made a fool out of himself, and simply brought the knights towards him. Then again, as he thought about it for a while more, it wasn't all that bad. He is being escorted, which would reduce the chances he took of being ambushed in the wild outside, and he even found an odd clay squirrel to talk about weapons. Where he wouldn't try bashing his head against shrubs anytime soon, this one time it did prove to be quite entertaining, if not something worse. He listened to the pycon ramble on about his weapon, but a curious piece of word caught his ears. Bet. Of course he could bet on something like that. Clemens could swear that the squire is faster than the fox that got away today, and he couldn't even react fast enough, let along catch it. Not to forget the fact that in the amount of time it needed for him to simply climb up his armored hand, yeah. That was a sure bet he could only hardly lose. It did draw out a chuckle out of him, however. He imagined himself trying to whack at the little creature on his shoulder with his weapon, only to tire himself out doing so. The halbert he wore wasn't exactly that light as a shortsword would be, so aimlessly flailing around would do no good. He tilted his head to the side, lightly, as the pycon began talking even further, about the weaknesses of his weapon. He thew that if someone got really close, he'd have no room for a slash, and a stabbing motion wouldn't be all that powerful either. Not only was he too vulnerable at times like that, he'd probably end up hurting himself with the hooked bit and make a fool out of himself. Again. "Then again, I'l do my best to not need to fight you, or your friend." He said, motioning to the knight on the horse. "Both of you seem like you have a lot of experience under your belts." He did notice the companion on his shoulder got an idea, however. Only gods themselves would know what he just got in his little head, but it seemed like an idea he didn't think of before. He simply thought that idea didn't involve any chasing of armored men so his weapon could be tested. He shuddered at the thought, but somehow he had a dark feeling that because the pycon didn't dislike the weapon, he'd have to prove just how good it would be. He'd want to be good with it, no questions about that, but he still needs time to practice and train. Probably not on foxes, though. He'd need a sparring partner at one point in his life. He hummed, as his one visible eye got closed. He did hear about a place of sorts, where people get to fight each other, but going to a place like that would mean being up against someone who was doing that longer than him. He just felt the whole scenario would leave him beaten and bruised. Well, it has to be started somehow. Maybe he'll check that place out, once his shoulder stopped to ache. Now, he got himself an answer, as well. After an odd silence none the less, but it was one. Delivered in what seemed to be boring and repeatative answer. It was somewhat of no surprise, seeing as he is a talking squirrel with a weapon. He simply hoped he didn't bore his conversation partner too much with such an odd question. But at least he knew a bit more. The whole god story and what who did and didn't do didn't really bother, nor interest Clemens all that much. He saw people that devoed their lives to it, and did things he simply scratched his head to. But to name all the gods and what they're there for, is something he had no clue about. Still, he decided not to pry on the whole situation too much, as he got what he asked for. "So you two are knights, huh?" He tried his best at some small-talk, even though it wasn't his strong point. "Haven't been really close enough to any of them to actually talk. Usually just see them walking around. I keep my distance." He explained afterwords. Which he did. There was a certain degree of fear that came with the knights and their power in Syliras. Something he had no intentions of actually questioning. So he did what he does, keeping away and simply acting like the background if someone does passes. He didn't have the guts to actually come talk to a knight he just randomly met.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Sometimes, Arch had to remind himself that not everyone was as determined in their fight for power and physical combat as he was. As much as he would have liked it, he couldn't try and spark off a little match with everyone he came across.. more often than not, they wouldn't even know anything about the use of weapons or have any interest in learning it. Then again, they didn't need to, either. "Oh.. right", he grinned sheepishly. "Not sure about Ser Iros.. I've been doing this stuff for over five years now. Traveled all over Sylira. Nearly got killed a few times." Not to mention all the other things he'd done and seen while there. The whole reason he'd joined the knights in the first place, the reason he remained there and fought people in the name of Civilization and Peace. He kept getting swept up in his own thoughts, drawn deeper away from the person currently acting as his steed atop a steed by every provocation.

"Not saying that you'd need to.. but hey, it's worth a try, isn't it?" They could get a few laughs from it at the end of the day. "It's not like I'm going to cover you in bruises for taking the trouble, any way. I leave that for morons who think they're too good for it." The small smile that had spread over his muzzle grew a little more malevolent for a moment, before he finally managed to control his face. "Just a little session.. you with your weapon, me and my Py-Pole, hanging about and having a fun little spar." Eventually he moved on, since he didn't want to press the issue any further. "We're not that bad, you know. Just because we occasionally have to--" he began before a loud cry from up ahead brought his attention straight back to the fact that Ser Iros had disappeared completely. That and the small shadows quickly passing by in the narrow gaps between stripped trees mere feet away.

"Ahem.. Clemens. I think you'd better get that weapon out." As he spoke, the squirrel readied his own and slowly stood up on the man's shoulder, Py-Pole in paw and watching carefully. Those shadows were too big to be wolves.. though he couldn't make anything out. They were definitely going in the same direction though. None of it bode well for the near future. Who in Hai is going to be out and about at this time of the year.. who's going to be mad enough to try and take down a knight, too? Pretty easy to see who you were, even in the snow. Clear badges, platemail and weapons and horses and petch knew what else.. traveling guards and wandering scoundrels just didn't have the same resources. Nor the badges of arms pinned on their breasts. Either this was going to be a pretty moronic and futile attempt, or a well-coordinated attack to cull down knights while separated. Either way, things weren't going to be pretty at the end.

[Clemens Kos]

The walk on the used path they were on was calm enough. Even though his conversation partner showed a different trait. He had that certain fire in his eyes. It was kind of amusing. Even more so was the fact that he was just formally invited to have a spar with the squire. That in it's own was quite a scary though. Specially because he just finished explaining how bad would his weapon fair against someone like him. Then again, it would provide him with a good enough excuse to practice. Even though his chances of actually winning were lower than his hunting luck, it would almost surely teach him something new. Other than fighting with knights usually leads up to trouble and pain. He should accept that offer, but why was he so reluctant. Clemens had an odd feeling built up in his gut. Akin to the feeling of doing anything out of one's comfort zone. He got quite nervous, all of a sudden. He could almost picture the fight and how painful it would be. A hint of fear creeped under his skin, as he had to try his best to fight it and not show it. The last thing he needed was to be seen as a coward, where he's already a horrible hunter and a aweful speaker. At least he should try looking like someone who could fight. "Sure..." He spoke out, after a moment of thinking. He had to do this. He wasn't going to be a coward for his whole life. "Sure, we can have a fun spar." He repeated himself once more, this time sounding more determined. He was going to become better. The squirel was trying to explain how the knights wasn't all that bad. He heard that story before. From one needing to keep the peace, to uphold rules and regulations. It was known to him. It was something everyone spoke about, simply to excuse the knight's regin. He almost didn't want to listen to that excuse, but because he finally had someone to chat with, ignoring the squire would simply spell out a bad image. He should at least have this respect to give. So as he decided to listen, he was surprised. Or, shocked, rather. A cry came out from infront of the two, and all of a sudden there was a missing big bulky mass of muscle and iron. He blinked his visible eye, noticing the shadows that were already off. Did that just happen? It all happened so fast he barely had the time to process it. Where he could of been a little afraid of the spar before, he'd be utterly terrified now. That was the big bag of muscle the weak should depend on, and he just vanished. Like that. But that all was didn't bring his back hair up standing. No. Archailist made sure he picked up that reward. He almost couldn't believe his ears. His weapon? Did he plan on going after them? Quickly, however, it shinned in his head. Of course he was going to go after him. A knight would never leave someone behind like that. He gritted his teeth underneath his mask. This wasn't his fight. Not one bit. if they managed to take Iros he'd stand no match himself, but... His brow furrowed as he took a deep breath. He said nothing, but only swallowed a big lump of salvia that gathered in his mouth. He reached behind himself, his fingers wrapping around the shaft of his hooked weapon. With a single motion, his shoulder was raised, twisting and straining his muscles, as the weapon was once again pulled out of it's straps, and the bladed ends were pointed infront of him. "We go after them?" He asked, his voice now nothing but a whisper. He couldn't speak out loud, even if he could. He tried his best not to show his cracking voice. His heartbeat was pumping, and adrenaline began coursing through him. Slowly, he made a few steps forward, waiting for his companion to give the word. Surely he'd know more about fighting than Clemens did. So he allowed himself to be guided.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The squirrel set his non-existent jaw as paws tightened around his weapon. He was about as frightened as Clemens at that moment, because the Pycon had as much clue as the masked man on what was going on. Shadows passing so silently through the thin snow, that was eerie enough to send a shiver down his back. A behemoth like Ser Iros, clad in full plate-mail and atop his equally-huge horse, armed to the teeth, to suddenly disappear from their group with little more than hoof-prints in the snow to mark his leave was downright terrifying. At least Clemens wouldn't see it. The squirrel hid his face as best as possible, turning around and pressing his back against the side of Clemens' face until he could feel the cool cheek against his warm clay. "Maybe... maybe we can put a rain check on that stuff. For now, just.. just keep going. I don't think we'll have to go to them.. feels like they're making it very obvious that they want the exact opposite." Which begged the question just who would want to try and make an attack now, here, of all places.

He barely knew Clemens, but right now he couldn't rely on anyone else. "Okay.. okay, listen very closely. You listening? Whatever comes out of here, you're going to need to stab it. No time for thinking. Stab at it, hit it however you can. Don't stop until it's dead, no matter what." The squirrel still didn't know what the heck it was out there.. it could have been wolves, it could have been goodness-knew-what skulking about in the hopes of finding some fresh victims.

Arch didn't need to wait long for the mystery to unveil itself. From behind one of the naked trees emerged a man covered in a mis-match of armor ranging from simple leather to metal plate, with pieces overlapping and little gaps poking through. A shield in one hand and a thick-looking sword in the other, he rushed straight up and braced one shoulder, trying to knock Clemens over before slicing down with the sword to try and strike him straight in the skull. Arch flung himself aside the moment danger made itself apparent, not wanting to get crushed in the ensuing chaos. It was still a long drop though, and the heavy impact from below pushed the wind from his body in a choked wheeze. Shyke, shyke shyke shyke. Even as he struggled back to his feet, glimpses of movement kept flashing all around.

"GET OFF'A HIM!" the squirrel screeched with all the voice he could muster. For his troubles, though, his reply came in the form of a caw from high above. A raven had begun to circle; he could see it through the thin branches high above, watching patiently. He'd not seen it before the attack and as it continued its low 'caw' in rhythmic bursts, Archailist couldn't help the shiver once again running up his back, even through the length of his tail. What is all this..

[Clemens Kos]

The masked man felt his breathing cutting in his own leather mask he wore, the short and quick breaths quickly heating up the piece of material around his face, which in return warmed his face up. But that wasn't the only source of warmth that over-came him. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, his cheeks already colored up from the sudden outburst of pure adrenaline that pumped him up. His irises widdening, as he simply wiffed his his hair to the side, with a simple jerking head motion, which caused the hair on his left side reveal his second eye for a moment or two, as Clemens tried his best to take in the area around him. He noted the somewhat mashed snow, and the small iced surfaces that were created on the edges where the snow froze over. He tried to think of a way to use what he saw around him, but in the sudden moment of heat he had little to no time to react. He was told to simply keep moving, but his stops were slow and unsure, as whatever it was that made the massive knight vanish could return any moment now. And he could be next. What a sad way to end it all, he thought about. But he quickly shook his head, trying to get such ill thoughts out of his head. He needed a clear head, even though the lack of experience was the one factor he had in mind. He might look rugged and rough, but Clemens didn't exactly know how to wield this weapon properly. the spear part on the top was there for stabbing, and the hooked axe head on the side for slashing, so much he knew. If only he could practice before this happened. His left hand wrapped his fingers around the shaft even tighter, trying to create a solid foundation of a grip. His right hand's grip was slightly loose, which would allow him to grab at different lengths, shortening or extending his reach or manoueuvreuty. The squire's words resonated loudly inside his head. Just stab. Attack. Kill. Or be killed in return. He felt his knuckles tightening up as his grip probably made his skin all white. Good thing he wore his metal vambrace over it. If he wasn't going to act, he wasn't going to act at all. He knew that much. He was just given permission to end a life. A egoistic thought came over his mind, which was lingering there for a while now. He was much more important to himself than anyone else. He would rather he kept living, that someone that just attacked him. Clemens was going to follow that through. Rather a murderer, that a victim. The young man's eyes flashed as he heard something to his side, shuffling of the snow and a sudden impact. His heels quickly turned to the source of it all, doing it just as he seen people do it. His body was turned to the side, with his left foot shifting forward, and leaning all of his weight on it, to meet the attacker. His back foot was pressed into the snow, and dragged back, trying to get additional firmth into his stance. Standing like that, with his left arm extending out, his plated shoulder and arm used as a some kind of shield, ready to be used agaisnt someone if they decided to rush head first into it. Maybe he could even capture one by surprise, as his coat he wore underneath somewhat concealed the plate. He felt the squirrel jump off his shoulder, now removing any additional weight off him. His green eyes observed the charging man covered with leather arm plate. Knowing the perks and weaknesses of such an attire first handedly, he tried to use that as his advantage. The attacker wore a sword and shield. If he got him to get too close, he would be done for. He tried to act on speed and reach to win this battle, even though he feared the man knew more about fighting than Clemens did. Not that he was going to drop the weapon because of that, and quietly surrender. He slowly began to count his heartbeats, as the man got closer and closer, his attack being revealed as a bashing maneuver with his shoulder. He needed to act now, before it was too late. His right hand slid alongside the shaft, his palm pressing against the lower end of the halberd, trying to find the balance point, which would allow him to use the weapon as a spear. The axe head was pointed downwards, as he needed the visibility. As soon as the man got in range, he used all of his strentgh and pushed his hands outwards, the pointy end aimed to strike at a place where he wasn't really all that armored. His leg. More directly, his right thigh which seemed to be covered with a single layer of leather. He had the range to perform such an action, hoping the warrior was too fast to be able to respond, and with the momentum he made with charging, helped him pierce the leg and still keep him at more than an arm's reach away. If he man did or did not stopped, his thrust would be paired with one more action. He'd try and twist the spear around, so the wound would become a little bit bigger, and the axe blade now poking up. towards the sky. With all the strentgh he could muster, he tried and bring a slash against the man's temporary unguarded side, trying to deliver a cleave, or at very least stop him from charging forward. His breathing was heavy, as his action did indeed tire him out greatly. But thankfuly, due to the sheer amount of adrenaline, he was able to keep going. At least, for now.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

These men were skilled. They'd have to be, if they were brave enough to test their luck on the Wilderness during the winter seasons. If they were going to try their luck on knights, they couldn't be from inside Syliras.. then again, what could draw people to travel in such terrible conditions, just to try and throw themselves up against knights. He couldn't tell and there wasn't enough time to sit there and ponder on the circumstances. Clemens was in serious danger, after all. The human's attacker saw the preparation and reacted swiftly and accordingly. The man's sword and shield pushed together mid-swing and cleaved out to the side, meeting the strike just behind the blade of the axe-head and throw it back out to the side, while dancing to the side nimbly. He held the weapons with far more grace and competence than Clemens. Though Arch was already preparing himself to jump in and strike while the man was focused elsewhere, those plans disappeared as quickly as they formed.

A second man emerged and a third followed. A woman held back behind them, bow in hand and arrow already drawn. Even if Iros was still with them, this was steadily turning against their odds of victory.. or survival, for that matter. Goodness knew how many more of them were yet to emerge, he swore he could hear some commotion going on just beyond the reach of the trees.. just out of eyesight.

"Jordan, get in there and finish this off." The second attacker to emerge, apparently the one called 'Jordan' raised his weapon - a very large and sharp battleaxe, heavy enough to require both hands - as he all but charged forwards into the fray, trying to take advantage of the situation by simply overwhelming Clemens. Arch had other plans. As the behemoth of a man stomped over the squirrel, a little clay fist slammed straight into the spot between his shin and foot. Mid-stride, the attacker flopped forwards and barely managed to catch himself with one knee and the blade of his weapon slamming into the fluffy snow, embedding itself into the hard soil just beneath. "What the petch?!" He turned back, but the squirrel was already gone - using the mis-matched armour that the attackers all shared to climb quickly up his side and around his arm.

"Petching Hai, Jordan. Stop being such an oaf and get in there already!" The woman hanging back seemed rather annoyed where her colleague was more forgiving - snickering, even as Clemens was attacked mercilessly. That'd soon stop. The squirrel soon reached the man's shoulder as he struggled to rise back to his feet. Clay solidified inside his paw, with more pushing inside until the condensed lump was solid enough to give a bit of a kick when he reared back and slammed it straight into the back of the man's head. The head snapped forwards in alarm and shock, but Arch was nowhere near finished. Again and again, he slammed into the back of the skull, watching it rattle until he slumped forwards. As a final warning to the others, he jumped into the air, shifted the clay quickly down into both feet, and jumped on the fallen man's head with a satisfying little crack. Might have been his nose digging into some unseen stone under the snow.

[Clemens Kos]

Clemens thought his strike was decent enough. He felt like his footwork could do some work, but the clean enough strike and his hopeful mind were both shattered by two simple motions, as he felt the shield and sword deflecting his blow, and with quite some force pushing the weapon the masked man wielded to the side, forcing him to lose his footing and began to back off, quick steps. It was beyond simply obvious the man was more skilled than Clemens, and a fight like that would require a miracle to win. If not, he'll end up dead, or sold off. The group looked like one that wouldn't mind making some easy gold, after all. His hair stood up on his back, as he felt himself being dragged off in chains. He wasn't going to let that happen. Quickly, however, his fighting spirit died off, as he witnessed the happening infront of him. One more. Two more. Three more. His face went from pale to outright white. He felt something heavy clogging his throat, unable to even swallow normally, as his muscles tightened up. Trying to at least seem dangerous, he simply entered a defensive stance, with the axe side of his halberd at his left shoulder, and the wooden shaft going across his chest, hoping against hope to be quick enough to try and counter a strike that would be flying towards him any moment now. His eyes tried to quickly look at his little traveling companion, afterwords, hoping to see him having a better time than he was. What he witnessed, however, happened almost too fast. A man, looking like three times the width Clemens was, was rushing towards him. In his hands was a massive battleaxe, that looked like it could cut rocks. And it was going straight at him. His one revealed eye widdened out in terror, as he already felt having every single bone broken. But that never came. He was able to see Archailist, and his little tactics. The next thing he could see, was the man on the ground, and the squire long gone. He watched with what kind of ease the squirrel was able to fight, which made him wonder. And this one wanted a spar with him. He just downed a man that was bigger than Clemens without so much than breaking a sweat. Suddenly he realized it is going to be him being useless, once again. Not that he was going to complain now of all times. He'd be more than happy to get out alive. With that, his attention shifted to the rest of the group. There was a woman with a drawn out bow. Knowing at least the basics of archery, he knew that having it drawn for a longer period of time would tire her out, so Clemens knew the arrow was going to be released sooner rather than later. He suddenly regretted not wearing a helmet. Or being hidden behind a tree. He was after all, out in the open, and in the middle of the road. Then again, he did try and make another attack to his own attacker, the one with the shield and sword. The whole comotion while this 'Jordan' was attacked, could of spell out good things for the young halberd wearing human. As he watched the man surprisingly look at the fact one of his friends had his nose broken by what appeared to be a squirrel, Clemens made his move. Tightening the grip around the bottom side of the halberd, and winding it out into a wide swing. He tried to aim to the neck or head area of the man, which seemed somewhat unprotected. His swing was indeed sloppy and it openned him out for an easy counterattack, but he didn't stand a chance against a more skilled oponnent anyways. So, in the end, he decided to use a cheap shot to get the upper hand. Still, he had the reach the sword didn't, so he hoped to be at least able to dodge if he was to be parried, first. Even though, he still added quite a lot of force into the swing, using his own body to twist with it, adding a little bit extra on top.