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Nyke is, for all intents and purposes, fucking drunk. He sways from side to side, mumbling drinking lyrics under his breath and hanging on Belen as the two he usually followed were busy greeting their old “friend”. When the fighting started [abbr= Nyke’s Int Roll: 7]he considered hobbling away to avoid the issue[/abbr], but Achillis falling at his feet spurred a fire within in his belly. 

He steps to the side, passed Belen and Herc, and forward and draws what appears to be a curved blade from the sheath on his side. As one of the few guardsmen in Alanla, he is rather talented with a scimitar, but as a drunkard he is unable to practice any of his usual flourishes. He sways to the side and slashes at Zev’s side, [abbr=Nyke’s Attack Roll: 11 + 4 = 13]aiming for a gutting slice.[/abbr] Zev, you act almost instinctually and raise up a hand, and from that hand an [abbr=Spell Cast: Shield] invisible shield protects you from the slash.[/abbr] The sword bounces off the wall, sending a ripple of light across the surface.

Nyke remains standing beside Hercules, cursing in a thick Illian accent, and he raises his sword to prepare for another strike.
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Belen stands completely still as chaos begins to rain around him. He is not a fighter, not in any sense of the word. He makes swords, dammit, he doesn’t use them. Killing things is a lot different than creating things that kill. [abbr=Belen’s Int Roll: 5 + 2 = 7]So he stands completely still, caught up in feelings of dread, unable to even think of running off to find someone to stop the brawl.[/abbr] When Nyke releases him to go for his sword, Belen’s mouth falls open, and once Zevemar’s blood was spilled he shouts,

[abbr= Belen’s Persuasion Roll: 9 + 1]“Hey, guys, please! We don’t have to fight them, we can just go. Let’s just go…”[/abbr]

No one reacts, but [abbr= Action: Dodge]Belen closes his fists and prepares to defend himself from any oncoming attacks.[/abbr] His eyes are intense with fear, and he looks about ready to run.
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