The spear man had little to add, simply serving to observe and listen. His clans mate piped up, in favor of 'his' side against that corrupted anomaly called a woman. Cical knew something was shared between the two of them, perhaps it was just their taste in women. The Prince of War appeared rather casual for what was going on around him, cool blue eyes panning over each member of the haphazard assembly. The ones he deemed more notorious he lingered over longer, taking in as fine of details as he could before all concentration was broken - again.

	It seems they would never get a true explanation. At least not now, perhaps not ever if the elder were to fall to some pitiful marauders. All he seen spewing from the mono-limbed man was cockiness. Be it rightfully earned or not it didn't matter. Either way it paved the way for mistakes and those mistakes happened to be what ended lives.
	"I've never been a follower, but I'll humor you old timer." The lancer noted through a peculiar smirk. With the ever encroaching sound of battle, Cical's entire form seemed to alight with energy. His muscles tensed, veins made themselves apparent. Even his eyes seemed to glow with anticipation. In one fluid movement, his right arm snapped back and slightly up to dislodge the black spear peaking over that same shoulder. The weapon would have been pleasant to see, had it not been swiftly involved in spins around Cical's hand to end up tucked beneath his arm. Not an instance afterwards was wasted. Calloused feet leaving imprints in the ground as he launched from the wall into a jog, he moved beside the older gentleman so he was at least could speak without yelling.
	"Maybe you can show me how a guy fights properly with only one arm, eh?" He chuckled, soon afterwards spacing himself a good two lunges worth behind the 'leader'. If he were ambushed, they could respond and Cical wouldn't have to worry about accidentally striking him with his weapon due to proximity. With a brief glance over his shoulder, he was looking for the other Baccumese man specifically. Even if he didn't have the egg to offer, he still desired to exchange a brief bout of words. Unfortunately it looked as if he were a coward. Grumbling in slight annoyance he focused forwards, easily keeping up with the elder.

.

.

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	Cical had kept watch of the one armed man's back as he opened the doors. It was common courtesy, one never wished a backstabbing upon the other! As such, he spotted the small group of men and already began moving while the shock of said men to their own group was still settling in. Halfway through the distance, everything went full reverse. [i]Something[/i] was about to blow straight through that hou-

	What he had been expecting, was definitely [b]not[/b] the coward Baccumese on a Uiyo-damned war elephant. Where he got the beast, how it was trained or what idiotic spirit possessed him to bring it here, were all questions for another time. At this moment however, the searing pain in his left wrist was of main concern. As was not being crushed by a stampeding elephant. He was struck in the wrist by a piece of wood which became a projectile during the collapse of the building. Little pinpricks of blood and splinters littered the one side but posed little issue. Thankfully even the blunt pain was subsiding rapidly. With a squint, he watched what was once believed to be a coward, stand on a broken limb and decapitate an injured soldier. Dust still clouded the ground and head level. It would rise in the next few moments but for now it provided an adequate smoke screen for Cical to flank around the right side - near where the building had fallen itself.
	What was once a rather open battlefield he could exploit, became a land of loose footing and jagged edges. Trying to hold back a shield if he were imprecise with his strikes would be impossible now. It wouldn't matter. Acting like a mountain goat, Cical in bare feet strode confidently over broken wood and timbers, spotted a target who was getting up from being knocked down. He had to collect his weapons and himself after such an unforeseen occurrence. Cical would be in the same situation were their roles reversed. Using a felled timber and the strength of his legs, Cical leapt high above the dust and with a spin of his right arm; brought the tip of the spear into the stumbling man's chest. With the impact of the landing softened by the now heartless man, Cical rose and roughly yanked his weapon free.

	There was no yelling, screaming or grunts of exertion or energy. What he had done, what he would continue to do, was silent and with a sort of elegance. Blood drops flew through the air off the tip of his weapon in a wide arc. The bottom of his spear struck his back, arm extended to keep the blade tip out to his side. Bent legs snapped forwards towards to send the lancer at the rear of another target. With seamless efficiency, Cical roughly kicked hard at the back of his targets leg, just at the knee. In a cry of pain, he dropped onto the injured joint, just enough downwards so that Cical could position the staff of his spear beneath his neck and sharply jolt upwards. A gristly crack could audibly be heard.

	The Kothar ranks were disorganized to say the least. The elephant storming through the home had caused confusion and panic. It slaughtered a good portion of their forces and left them scrambling to recover. This was a perfect scenario for someone like Cical. With two to his name, the lancer moved to take on a third, stopping and contorting his body to narrowly avoid a spear thrust at his midsection. 
	Be it because the fool twisted it in his hand, or because he was simply that inexperienced, the blade ran vertical. His ribs would have stopped the tip even if he had struck. But since the hoplite missed his target, his spear fell - onto Cical's bare leg. It left a nasty cut from the top of his thigh down about mid-way but such a thing would only require minor stitching. His right arm shot down and grabbed onto his enemies weapon. Only now did he realize the enemy had lost his shield at some point in the confusion. Tugging him forwards and turning with the momentum of the pull, Cical planted his foot into his chest in a simple side kick. With some force, the hoplite flew back weaponless into some rubble. Releasing a held breath, the wild Baccum stood tall and panned over the battle zone for what remained.