So it was a trap. One that didn't seem to actually be intended for them if the look on the bandits' faces was any indication. Ah, well. They chose this fight. They'd get what was coming to them. Someone would have to have a talk with the captain later in private about delegating. Or just resisting her instinct to help. If the bandits were more competent, she'd be dead by now.

Renar simply dismounted and took his place in the van as Bloody Aria barked an order for the spearmen to form up. It was a good order, but even if it hadn't been, to second-guess in the heat of battle was beyond foolish. He brought his poleaxe up, pushing alongside the rest.

A bandit charged his position in the line specifically, and he smirked. The man only wielded a hand axe and a leather shield, being covered in hides and rusted mail. Simple enough. Renar stepped forward, meeting the bandit's charge with a swing of his polearm's axe head, forcing the bandit to stop in his tracks and raise his shield. Another step forward, and Renar was in range to draw his poleaxe back, quickly whirling it around and smashing the bandit in the gut with the opposing end, knocking the wind out of the man. While he was doubled over, trying to suck a breath in, Renar slammed the polearm's spike forward, smashing it through the bandit's left eye and out the back of his skull. 

"Another one down!" Renar roared, kicking the still-warm corpse off his weapon and leveling his poleaxe as he continued the push with the rest of the line.