He stood up wearily, as if he really didn't want to but he had to, and called out, "All right everyone, kill me and she'll scram." He stood still as the half dozen men came charging through the smoke, roaring in rage and confusion. One of them accidentally ran his friend through; another crashed into him, knocking them to the floor. 

Two more were nearly on him before Jackson moved, and when he moves, he [i]moves[/i]. Both his hands were filled with his axes in a heartbeat, and he was spinning out of the way, the axe heads biting through the first man's side as he used him as a wall. By the time he had fully put him between his friend, his side was cut up and his arm was a bloody mess. He collapsed, and his bud took his place- a single swing took his throat, and he fell to the ground on top his fellow.

The assassin dealt with the others in a similar fashion, leaving the captain alive and unharmed, standing in the smoke cloud, roaring with anger and hate. He taunted him, all the while.

"Where's your henchmen, mate?"

"Did your guards decide to take a nap?"

"Are you playin' hide'n'seek or somethin'? Why wasn't I invited?"