The stocky dwarf let out a deep, grumbling sigh. The plans that had been formulated both seemed reasonable, and the thought of sending in the dragonkin was a solid one. Stroking at his beard and leaning on his hammer's pommel, Abet looked on toward the mansion as the rest of the party talked among themselves, pondering to himself about the men down below. The gunshot that split the air earlier seemed to unsettle a few of the guards, though they quickly resumed a sleepy posture as they chatted to each other. Abet thought of what the shot was for - perhaps a peasant that would've been better off had the party acted already. With this thought the dwarf stood upright, taking a final swig from his waterskin, stuffing it into his pack.

It wasn't too long after the gunshot that Nicholas suddenly trudged past Abet, a determination in the man's gait. Abet turned his head slowly to his companions, his puzzled brow furrowing before he finally piped up.

"Well, ladies and lads, don't suppose yer set? Fey, mind yer aim toward the brave lad's arse, for me - I wouldn't mind a bit of aid draggin' him back 'ere either, me blades-men!" the dwarf smiled at the two knights and the wood elf before jogging down the hillside, warhammer slung over one shoulder, lifting his helm onto his head, praying under his breath to Aznathin for the energy he would need. As he caught up to Nicholas, the dwarf beamed with boastful assurance, laughing heartily to himself as they approached the manor.

"Now look 'ere, lad, the two of us can make good scraps of those halberd-swingin' apes, but mind the gunners - don't suppose you would care for a few holes in yer belly, though, if ya don't mind yer drink runnin' straight through ya!" Abet let out another quick chortle, before seeing that the guardsmen had taken note of the duo's approach. "Ready yerself, lad!" the dwarf cried out as he picked up his pace, ready to face his foes head-on, a wide grin spread across his face the whole way.