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[hr][@Rune_Alchemist][@Crimson Paladin][@Cu Chulainn] 

Reinhardt swiftly disengaged with a quick back step to the right of the Cyclopean Fomorian as Ethelred dealt a heavy blow to the creature-- ensuring he wasn't about to be trampled underfoot by any of the involved parties. Thus far the engagement had gone favorably; save for the elven stranger getting hurled off to the side.

It wasn't clear if the stranger was out of the fight just yet-- but they'd already done a number on the Fomorian's favored arm, which didn't seem to be regenerating.

Did the creature lack regeneration? Or was it something to do with those strange phantasmal weapons that the stranger had wielded?

Whatever the case; it was an advantage Reinhardt had no intention on passing up.

As the Cyclops moved to engage the foe it seemed to deem most threatening (Ethelred in this case), Reinhart followed behind it in tight pursuit; making ready to place a decisive strike at the monster's hamstring-- until the Cyclops; in it's infantile rampage, threw about the strewn wreckage of the market.

A metallic glint caught Reinhardt's attention; his hand deftly snatching it from the air.

It was a weathered, yet sturdy harpoon-- with a rope still attached.

[Color=darkorange]"How fortunate--"[/color] the knight mused as he ceased his pursuit; planting his feet firmly as he readied to hurl his newly acquired tool into the Cyclops' remaining good arm the moment it would raise it's weapon to strike at his fellow knight.