The mage looked up, removing his hands from shielding his head from the flying and falling debris. In truth, the sound alone had alarmed him; having never been in a city beseiged before, the quaking, shattering volume of true canonfire was new to him. He looked back into the oncoming rank and file of blade and firearm and bit his lower lip. A full group of true soldiers was not something he was capable of simply blasting away, at least not now and likely not anytime soon. With a glance upwards, hoping to find a method to make the prince's request literal, the only threat that rained down on him was disappointment and further shards of stone. The ceilings and beams were entirely stone and he could not yet burn through so much rock, certainly not from so many feet below.

Thus he looked back down, bronze eyes scanning the room and the guards, piercing and analyzing as his mind raced. His magic, just as his sword, could only do so much at once. It would take triggering a metaphorical keystone into something much larger, much as a properly placed lever could move objects usually impassable. Walls of marble and stone, shards of glass littering the floor... an entourage of Crown Watchmen armed in plate, gambeson, halberd, sword and musket... what could fire and lightning set off?

The young man blinked. Muskets. Carried by men who carried bags of gunpowder at their sides-and a fair few in this group that he could see. Gunpowder that exploded when ignited.

The magi took a breath and stood up straight, holding one arm out in front of him while his other held back, hovering over his extended. He began to mumble utterly unintelligibly in the cacophany of shouts, boots slamming on stone and rubble and the roar of bells and cannonballs meeting stone, wood and glass. Though such long-distance spellworking was a subject with which he was still inexperienced, he [i]could[/i]. The air wavered about his arm as he wove the snaking trail of heat to spread out like tendrils ensnaring between the guards, grabbing at their predictible placement of powder stock. Then with a slow... [i]pleased[/i] sigh, he rolled his arm and removed the armored glove on his hand, back of his hand exposed to them. Then he shouted, his arrogant, sneering grin washing over his face as the air danced about him like flames.

"[i]Escouade! Forme troisième! (Squadron, form tortoise)[/i]," the lead Chevalier shouted. In unison, the seasoned Crown Watch retainers all formed together and instantaneously formed a tight knit shield formation protecting all sides in a tortoise like pattern. "[i][b]Quatre pas vers l'avant marche!! (March forwards ... four paces)[/b][/i]"

"Hey, bastards!" he cried out as he raised his hand slowly, dramatically, seemingly wasting precious moments as they drew closer and only putting his middle finger to his thumb. "What do kings, priests and soldiers have in common?" he watched longer as they drew together, starting to shift to an attack formation... clumping together by type... and roared. "They [i]all burn[/i]!"

Uriel, 'the Flame of God', snapped his fingers-and the spark burst into a screaming flame that travelled through the air like an igniting trail of oil right into the musketeers forming into line. In an instant, a series of explosions and screams rocked the air again in such a shattering burst of violent force and heat through the Crown Watch that many a seasoned men were sent scattering into death or disarray. Before the smoke cleared, a panting Uriel with eyes much more labored and filled with dismay and fear far more than the devilish grin he had flashed a moment before bolted past, latching onto Lucius's arm and pulling on him.

"That will have to be enough!" he whispered loudly, pleading. "Move!"

Uriel thanked whatever god or angel might have blessed him with the chaos. It hid shadows flickering against the wall while something insidious writhed within his flesh and self. The old rage in conflict with his master's insistence on kindness and responsibility, reminded of it by the noble relative in his grasp, nevermind the danger of them discovering his condition... for now, blessing the cursed carnage and destruction was all that he could do.