Vanahara's eyes narrowed as the ice mage swung her staff behind her ear, readying for a blow. Unfortunately for her, she raised her forearm in an automatic defense, forgetting for the moment she wore no bracer—fortunately for her, Master Alexander knew his craft. As the flare went off, she shifted from her ill-advised defensive move into covering her eyes with her arm, and afterimages [i]still[/i] bled through. Ling raised her crossbow, and Vana winced; they'd have to do some quick talking after this was over to maintain their cover. The bright light could have been a gunpowder flash grenade...right?

Somehow, over the sudden cries of those caught unawares and momentarily blinded, Vana heard a splash, and her eyes were drawn to the ice mage. The woman's eyes were wide, her attention on her armor, sweeping her hands up and down in an attempt to refreeze the rapidly thawing ice—her spear had already been reduced to little more than snowdrifts on the ground. Every distraction was an opening.

As soon as Ling fired her vial, Vanahara lunged. She grabbed the ice mage by the hair and arm, yanking her forward and slamming her face-first into the table. She followed it up with a sharp kick to the kneecap that should, with luck, send her to the ground. She could feel the icy plate that had been so solid-looking splinter around her heel—Drew worked quickly. 

A flash out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and Vana dropped into a crouch behind the table, wincing as a jet of flame burst over her head. [i]Karina's mercy, we're [b]literally[/b] stuck in a corner.[/i]