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Well. That wasn't the response Auberon had been looking for. He'd meant the question genuinely, but he hadn't actually considered what to do if Kellen responded negatively. He wasn't hurt; hurt people didn't run that smoothly. Kellen was just scared then. Auberon's first instinct was to yell at him, but that hardly seemed fair. He hadn't done anything wrong - and more importantly, he hadn't totally given up. Saints, Auberon was scared too, he just wasn't going to give these bastards - or Jorah - the satisfaction of seeing it. Still, if the Fraldarius boy stayed distracted like that, he was as good as dead the moment someone swung at him.

There wasn't exactly time for an impassioned sermon on the protective embrace of the Goddess, either, so Auberon sorely lacked in concise pep talk ideas.

[color=ffd700]"Hold it together a little bit longer,"[/color] The blond consoled him awkwardly, [color=ffd700]"I'll watch your back, but you have to calm down and watch your front too."[/color] He didn't bother to look back at the other boy, instead keeping his eyes on the scuffle in front of him. Another consequence of Kellen's freak out was that he'd stopped moving toward the mages, which meant he was no longer the bandit's prime target. Professor Euphemia seemed to have stolen that honor, and Auberon could only tense in horror was he snatched her up by the neck in preparation for an execution. If he used her as a hostage, they were stuck. Auberon's eyes flicked to the side, which granted him minor relief that the ritual looked to have been disrupted. The village was at least safe, regardless of anything this monster of a man could do. 

No, it was over for the chief regardless. If he tried to bargain his way out, Auberon had already made up his mind to charge him anyway the moment Euphemia was out of his reach. He probably knew that, though, which meant he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Fortunately, he banked too much on his strength and gave little thought to his own defense, and the professor had wriggled out of his grasp while she delivered the most solid wound on him yet. His blood simmered at Michail's order, aching to deliver a decisive blow. There wouldn't be enough time for Auberon's Crest to flare again if things continued like this, but a reprieve from all of this stress was hardly something to complain about even so.

[color=ffd700]"You heard him,"[/color] Auberon ordered brusquely just before he pushed off the ground at a full sprint toward the behemoth in front of them. He raced in toward the man's injured side with his axe low, holding his strike until he'd finished skidding and his feet were dug squarely into the dirt. From there, he hefted his weapon in an upward swing with the intent to sever the brute's already-wounded limb completely at the armpit.

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