For a second, Alexa ponders taking her shoes off to see where her stomach must have landed.

They're not hesitating at all. Drawing weapons, here, in the middle of a crowded square, full of witnesses. Granted, most of the crowd has turned to watch the argument--you know, whichever portion of the crowd was not already made of disciples--but still. To draw weapons on newcomers…

They're not going to stop coming until she does something. Run away. Talk. Stop them by force.

The spear does not leap to her hand. Does not dance in the air, warm her hands like a living being, practically aim itself at the foe's every vulnerable spot. It does nothing but sit in her hands, a length of wood with a point at one end. 

Fretfully, she runs one thumb along its worn groove. That's still the same, at least. Can she swing this well while carrying an initiate? Aim, with two arms propping up someone else, and only one arm per side for fighting? Probably not the best idea to figure it out in the middle of fighting off slavers, but the smile on her face

Alexa takes a first practice swing. Awful. Terrible. Formless. Slow. Easily blocked.

"Your"--shit, titles, um--"Blessed Master!" Nailed it. Hopefully. "I crave your wisdom!

Second swing. Artless. 

Can't turn to check on faces, expressions. Is the argument slowing down, she hopes?

Stab. Hmm. Potential. Amateurish, but look for pairings. Stab high, and then… where to bring the shield?

"In the course of our travels, I have lost the blessing of Athena Areia! How may I have the strength to protect my friends if I do not wish it again?"