Any semblance of a smile fell off her face when the goading failed. Yup, these were humans with a goal alright. No time for finesse then, not with three people- one more had popped out of the bushes to join the others- hunting for the man she was trying to protect. She surged forward without another word, blade at the ready. In spite of his words, Leigh saw the human's eyes widen as she took an arrow to the chest without slowing down. She could try to do this the neat way, but with time one the line she knew the fastest way to victory was to just soak up the damage that no mortal would expect her to.

To his credit the masked fighter managed to get up his second arrow right as Leigh rushed up to him. The tip of it drew a sharp line of red down the side of her throat, but the archer was not alive to see it. She didn't pause, just kept on barrelling straight through the underbrush, this time not bothering about concealing her approach. One of the pursuers turned to face her- just in time to get his knees kicked out from under him. Leigh stabbed her sword down, but was forced to abandon it to narrowly avoid a swipe that would have disembowelled her.  

The woman in front of her wasted no time in swinging again, but this time Leigh moved into it, wincing as the sword carved a bloody path over her arm. But the movement served to bring her in close enough to slam her head into the assassin's nose before following it up with a punch in the throat. The knife in her boot finished the job. 

Which left one more to take out. Leigh quickly rolled her shoulder to gauge the movement she had in her arm. Not optimal, but better than expected. The arrow still stuck in her chest ground painfully against a rib as she breathed, but there was no time to do anything about that now. Not while she was trying to find the last- there!

The last one must have heard their friends go down, because they did not move into her line of sight. She could hear rustling, though, but with the blacksmith to her left and wounded she did not want to take a chance. She turned and put herself between the rustling and the blacksmith, moving in close enough to see him.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help," she told him when she came into sight, knowing that she must make for a distressing picture right about now, blood on her face and more pouring from her own wounds. It went against all her instincts, but she turned her back to the last of the threats, making sure to keep her own bulk between him and the blacksmith. She would not die from another arrow, and perhaps a chance to have a go at her would tempt him into range.