[center][h1][color=#8292b3]Adrian[/color][/h1][/center]

The attack was sudden, and Adrian hated that. He knew nothing about his comrades, and most of them wouldn't recognize him except, if he was particularly unlucky, as one of the Citadel guard. Nobody was going to listen to him here, not yet, and he knew that. It irritated him, as he threw himself off his unnamed horse and seized his sword and shield from the side of the saddle. His arm slipped through the straps on the steel kite easily enough, and he turned as gracefully as he could towards the nearest bandit, who'd gotten a lot closer in that brief instant than Adrian was quite ready for. He noted that the man was swinging a mace and braced himself for the strike. It clanged against the shield like a gong, making Adrian's arm go numb as his sword lashed out. The sound of tearing cloth indicated a hit, but the lack of blood on his blade said otherwise. A close dodge, but still a dodge. [color=#8292b3]"Damn."[/color] Adrian fell back towards the main press of the camp, spotting Salem by virtue of a lightning strike. The momentary distraction allowed a bandit arrow to slip through his guard and strike him in the shoulder.

His arm felt like it was filled with fire as he posted his sword to snap the shaft of the arrow off. He let out a choked scream as the sudden motion aggravated the arrowhead, but he'd deal with that later. Moving his shield arm hurt even more now, but he'd push through it as well as he could. More bandits captured Salem before Adrian could reach the feline, and the cold press of a knife at his own throat stopped his motion. [b]"Drop the blade,"[/b] a deep voice rumbled in his ear.

[color=#8292b3]"Blood and bloody ashes."[/color] He grumbled, complying even as he craned his head slightly to try and get a look at the man who held him captive. The knife left his skin as the hand holding it shifted, the bandit twining his fingers through Adrian's hair for a better grip, and Adrian moved. He grabbed the wrist of his captor, leaning forward and rolling the slightly taller man over his shoulders while applying pressure to his wrist. As planned, the bandit's hand seized and dropped the knife, but Adrian fumbled the catch and the blade fell to the ground. As if to make it worse, a sudden pain bloomed in the back of his left leg, forcing him to the ground. He saw the glint of a blood-coated arrowhead in the front of his leg as the first assailant retrieved his knife and placed his booted foot on Adrian's back, shoving him fully to the ground.