"I'll be as quick as I can, Ahna," Fendros said dismissively before the lift cut him off from them. All that was apparently left to do was to wait. They did not have to wait long.

When Lorag was struck, the pack scrambled to tighten its small formation. When the arrow clattered to the ground nearby, Sabine noticed that it wasn't like the dwemer metal bolts. It was a shiny grey, barbed, and chitinous arrow. The sheen of sticky liquid on its head -- no doubt poisonous -- only made it look deadlier. The dots connected in Sabine's mind from what Saras had described. She charged an ice spike and a ward and called out. "Falmer!"

"More than that! Look out!" Janius shifted his shield higher to block an incoming glob of some kind of venom spat by one of the giant insects ahead. It splashed onto his shield, but none of it landed on any exposed flesh. It was the last thing he would want in his eyes, he decided.

Sabine raised her ward to try to cover what the shields couldn't. It was hard to aim through the ward's distorted dome, but she tried her best to launch an ice spike back up at the figure that shot at Lorag.

Janius was in the difficult position of trying to fend off arrows from above while defending from the front. He prepared to bring his axe straight down onto the head of the first insect that would reach them, though he had never fought them before.

[hr]
"Hmph, sounds like it matters," Gallus commented. "You know, you're right, I'm afraid. It's not something that you'll be able to get away from, at least not fully. You might be able to make it easier, though." Gallus angled his head back. "Play on your own terms."

Now assuming more of an explanatory tone, Gallus strode to the tree and dislodged his knives yet again. "Before working with someone, mention it quickly; 'Hey, if I mess anything up, just tell me and I'll fix it myself, okay?' Say that and then they know that you're capable of doing things for yourself. They've got no excuse to cover for you. Nords especially are insulted if you try to dote on them in spite of their pride, so the locals, at least, ought to understand fairly quickly."

The third knife was dug in more tightly, so Gallus had to give it a firm tug before he turned back to Peiter. "You don't even have to bring up your arm unless they broach the subject. If they do, they probably would have broached either way." He strode up to Peiter, tilted his head, and tried a sympathetic smile. "It's really about being assertive without making a scene, rather than bottling it all up. Would that be something you're willing to try?"