He kept the bead on his crossbow trained on the doors, the thing resting on the back of an overturned pew while he sat on a chair. He thought maybe that he should take a break soon, but the thought of those things outside always persuaded him otherwise. The pillars of smoke he'd seen outside put him in mind of that little village the Lord's men caught them at. For the first time in months, his heart beat a steady tempo, his whole world was the crossbow and the door in front of it. His breaths were slow and- something plopped down on his shoulder and he stifled a yelp, looking up at Engel, who was unperturbed by his reaction. “You.”

“You should sleep, your eyes are red with it. I will take up watch.” Engel said, his voice holding no signs of being shaken by the things happening outside. How a man could be so calm about today, he didn't know. Though, from the moment he saw him kill those two men and the dozen more after that, he'd surmised that Engel was anything but normal.

He shook his head, “It's only from the smoke, I'll be fine.”

“We haven't been around the smoke in two hours, Renart.” Engel sat beside him. “What will we do?”

“Why ask me? I did my part,” his pointed finger went to the door, “I killed two of them perched here while they ran at the door. I suppose you want us to go into the gate itself and close it?”

“The Paladin would do it.” Engel said. He'd shown great interest in watching the man, he hadn't seen Engel express any sort of interest in anything until now.

“If the Paladin charged into the portal, would you follow him?” Renart asked, rolling his eyes.

The slamming open of the door was thankfully soon and jarring enough to keep Engel from saying yes to his question. Instead, Engel had his knife and axe in his hands as fast as lightning, lips screwed shut. He almost loosed his bolt into the big man's chest before he realized it was a Nord and an Imperial woman, polar opposites in size. He let go a breath but kept his crossbow trained at the doorway, yawning open like a grave. The conversation seemed to be getting heated between the Imperial woman and the man, Martin, apparently. Talk of closing the gate. He frowned, tuning it out. “How in all the hells do they think they're going to close that thing?” He muttered. “We're staying ri- oh, you bastard!”

Engel was already walking towards the forming group around the Imperial woman and the Priest. Renart rolled his eyes, wiping his soot-stained, sweaty face.

[center]* * *[/center]

Engel was tired of waiting. He couldn't stand sitting and waiting, not because people were most definitely in need, but because it frayed his own nerves and he remembered what happened the last time he sat and waited for trouble to come at its leisure. Renart may have been more than happy to sit and wait here, but their only hope of getting out and living to see a tomorrow that wasn't like today was taking their chances outside. Renart wasn't too privy on going outside, or risking his life in general. Neither was he, but he knew that sometimes, you had to. He'd learned that when he saw his brother up against that fence, and when he forgot, the Gods punished him by taking his loves away. He wouldn't let his hand grow soft and weak with decadence and inaction, wouldn't risk losing Renart. That, and the prospect of going out there and killing was drawing him forward, he walked almost not of his own volition.

His soft footfall brought him to the group, and though his hands trembled the same way a young man's would hovering over the soft thigh of a girl, he made fists of them to hide it. He swallowed, speaking softly, “I will go too.”

Though he did not look like much, he was ready.