Garlenn's raised brow was priceless at the cutting remark from Ovra. He barked a laugh, his next words [i]probably[/i] facetious. "I love it when a woman takes charge!" he replied, and ran ahead with Ovra to cover the fallen mage, keeping one of his throwing knives in his hands just in case. He would check the downed rider for valuables on his own, but the others might not be appreciative of that. Plus it could complicate things with a reward, after all. 

He sighed, cracking his neck and getting ready to get his game face on for what he knew would inevitably end in bloodshed. It always did after all. "Thinking of talking the Imperium out of killing someone is like keeping a Fereldan from owning a dog. You might halt it for a moment, but eventually their urge'll override their good sense and do it anyway." 

The riders were drawing closer now, horses neighing and stamping along the somewhat uneven ground. The weather made it seem like they were harbingers of doom approaching to collect their souls. 

The sweating images of the men now closing on them gave them a bit less of an intimidating impression, even if they were armed to the teeth with magics to be wrought. "Rough weather to be out riding, eh?" Garlenn called, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Might want to head back inside where it's safe. We'll help your friend." 

To anyone who wasn't a fool, the threat and implication was quite clear, even masked with a thin veil of congenial greeting.