Lily's eyes nearly crossed as the stock of a musket came within inches of her forehead. She lurched back a belated step, arms coming up to shield her head as her eyes widened. Fear shot through her, all but instantly burned away by rage. She'd long since stopped being afraid of men who turned to violence at the drop of a hat.

Tree demons, though...she was still plenty wary of them.

When the door began to crackle and snap with blighted roots, Lily flew into action. She ducked down, neatly slipping the now-limp grasp of the guard, grabbing Spook's sword off the ground and bolting for the door, notched knife forgotten. Neither guard turned their muskets on her, and that was what she'd bet on as she hastily knotted the jewel-studded belt around her waist. She kept a hand on the pommel as she nearly slammed into Emma on their way out—even as hopelessly untrained as she was, a sharp poky metal stick was better than nothing.

Lily just bellowed for them to [i]run[/i] as they followed the fleeing guard into sunlight. She was blinded for a moment, her senses overwhelmed by the sudden brightness, the screams of people and the ricochet of cannonfire, the utter [i]stench[/i] she only recognized from the very lowest places in Enn—

Head spinning, she ran with the mass of people, trying to stick to the outer edges so as not to be trampled in the center. Grimly, she tangled her hand in Emma's sleeve and hoped, prayed that Emma could hold on to the others. She'd been on the periphery of enough mobs before to know that to fall was death. Lily frantically looked around, one hand tight on Emma and the other on the hilt of Spook's sword, and found what she was looking for—a slope upwards which, even better, a good portion of the mob was breaking off towards.

Tree demons. [i]Tree[/i] demons. They were breaking in with roots and with leaves, eating through wooden doors but climbing stone walls. In the forest, they had struck out with branches and thorns. And, despite the screaming mob, they were still in a city—and a city with trundling man-machines must have some sort of upper class, at least a [i]handful[/i] of snooty nobles who had better things to do than avoid the piss-buckets being tossed out of windows every morning—

[color=DDA0DD]"Come on!"[/color] she shouted into Emma's ear to be heard over the crowd and gunfire, tugging her by the arm towards the ascending road. [color=DDA0DD]"Follow me, I have an idea!"[/color]

What better place to escape tree demons than in the deep dark stone tunnels of a sewer?