From what could be called a warrior's stillness from coming to know his enemy face to face, the broad man with rough tawny hair then sprung to life; the leather creases of his folded traveler's boots shifting as their soles dug into the earth beneath him. His motion was a lunge and a onslaught with the rapidity of a bolt, all at an unusual swiftness for a mercenary looking sort of his size and build, muscular and armored in chain and animal hide as he was. The binding of the great blade set in both mighty hands, the first fearsome swing came at the nearest kobold in an arcing, upward slash that leveraged the momentum and stature of its bearer and the rush of the charge itself; the steel bite of the weapon reached out, hoping that the small, reptilian figure was neither swift or lucky.

[hider=Rolls]
Rolled a [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/293]12[/url] for greatsword attack versus nearest kobold.
Rolled an [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/294]11[/url] for slashing damage if attack is successful.
[/hider]
To the outlander, he hoped his frightening display of prowess would steal their focus; if the kobolds were going to find anything the most desirable target, he wished for it to be him rather than some peasant folk, children and a battle-weary woman. Better yet, he knew the orc would soon enough would join the fray, creating yet another living wall of steel and wrath as arrows, perhaps een magic, would strike from afar. The greater goal after all was to liberate the town, but for now?

Brannor would settle on evening the score against what seemed to be the dragon's peons.

[@Hekazu][@Lucius Cypher][@VKAllen][@Ryonara]