Camilla hadn't really had time to think during the skirmishes in the mountains. Then, fear and terror had been her only motivates, that and a desperate desire to escape. Those things had been monsters, these were just people. It took her a second longer to react than it should have but she snatched the pistol Cydric had given her from her belt leveled it at a man charging her and pulled the trigger. The flint snapped forward but nothing happened. Camilla's eyes widened in shock, as she realized she had forgotten to prime the weapon. The charging opponent, a big man with a beard matted with food and who knew what realized it too and a slow grin full of ruined teeth split his face. He was still grinning when Camilla hurled the pistol into his face with all her might. There was a bony crack and the man went down clutching his face, blood spurting from his ruined nose.

Camilla ripped her rapier from its holster and tried to make herself thrust it into the stricken man. She managed an awkward prod and the man hopped back, screaming from the painful but non fatal wound. Camilla hesitated unsure of whether to follow the man up and finish him when Petrovich bought the edge of his shield down on the back of the mans neck with the strength of a guillotine. The cracking of the man's spine was audible and he spasmed once and died.

Gasping in relief, Camilla looked around for another opponent but found they were all fleeing. Retrieving her pistol she fumbled with the powder, trying to prime the weapon, but by the time she managed it, the fight was well and truly over. Men moaned and screamed on the ground. The screamers were quickly silenced with short brutal cleaver blows by the Dwarf. A wave of nausea rushed over her, she had never killed another person before and the smell of blood and steel turned her stomach.

A few of the wounded men were in a condition to talk, though most of them only babbled pleas for their lives, particularly when the dwarf came close to them. One of the wounded was a pale, attractive man with several days of beard growth. As she came closer Camilla realized that his pale complexion had more to do with the blood leaking from a great gash on the back of his calves. Kneeling down she pulled of the mans belt and lopped it around his legs, twisting till he screamed to slow the blood flow.

[b]"Who are you?!"[/b] she snapped and seeing the confusion on the mans face realized she was speaking Tilean. Shaking her head in frustration she changed back to her Brettonian accented Reikspeil and repeated the question.

[b]"Mer.. mercenaries,"[/b] the man gasped. He wiped blood from his hands onto the leafy ground.

[b]"Pirates really,"[/b] he confessed to the hard glances of the party. His chest rose and fell raggedly as he spoke.

[b]"These villagers, they are traitors anyway,"[/b] he gasped.