She could feel Amal's sizeable 'dagger' stirring beneath her, and the thief briefly considered kicking the fire out so they could keep one another warm in the blackening night of Blackfire Pass. He reached to grab her head, strong fingers curled around her golden tresses, so much akin to spun gold. "I'll follow your lead, little troublemaker," He told her, and then kissed her. Lips brushed and opened, tongues rolling out to enjoy one another. Their bodies pressed and the fire felt very nice as they effectively made out with gusto, perhaps fit to take it further... 

There was a gunshot. 

It was loud, and close enough for the smell of the powder to flow over upon the them not seconds later. Reluctantly they pulled back from one another, Emmaline wide eyed and Amal blandly annoyed as they both turned to look northwest of their position. In the firelight, one of the merchant stumbled amongst dark figures and wagons, and fell to the ground heavily, dead. The other merchants looked up from their conversation and meals, and a cry was heard from at least two dozen men; the newcomers from the arriving caravan. Steel rang as they drew blades and more gunshots were heard over the din of shouting. Amal's eyes widened like Emmaline's. Not out of fear, but rather at how impressed he was at the foolhardiness of the bandits! They must have been disenfranchised mercenaries. Amal had only known four men in his life, himself included, who might have a go at such dangerous targets. 

Sure, half the wayfront's inhabitants were tradesmen, but they had bodyguards, and the Dwarfs and Ogres and what human mercenaries there were rose up in force. The Dwarfs laughed madly and one gave a warcry to his fatalistic mohawk god, waving two large axes about and running straight at the foes. A bullet hit him in the stomach, but that didn't even slow the crazed dwarf down, hacking at the gunman and splitting him down the middle with a mighty stroke of his axe, Amal losing sight of him behind the men and gunsmoke. Meanwhile, the Ogres were overjoyed at this newfound excuse to eat, and they laughed a bit more heartily as they ran into the fray, along with the hardened mercs that had traveled with Amal and Emmaline, running with stern eyes and wielding swords and pistols. 

Whatever the outcome, this was going to be bloody. It was also a good time to steal and take advantage of some goods, but Emmaline's soft form atop him made him think twice. If he was alone, yes. But he was not going to risk his love getting hit by a stray bullet for some chump change. Instead, they had another opportunity to get away as he heard some horses whinny, bandit cavalry ridding in from behind the throng to aid their fellows. Amal untangled himself from Emmaline, doing his best to calm his 'lower self' down as he stood to his full height. 

"Stay behind the ruins," he told her. 

"What? What are you doing?" She asked, gathering the blanket up protectively. 

"Just trust me, Em." He said with a wink, gathering up some rope he had procured the week previously for just such an occasion. 

Well, it was supposed to be used for the bedroom, but this worked too. He unrolled it with small movements of his arm, the roiling muscle visible in the firelight. With a subtle twist, he had it tied in a noose, and the deft theif began to spin the cord around, preparing himself for some maneuver with it. 'Taal's Blood!' someone screamed in the fray, and one of the horsemen had whipped about and ran around the furious melee, pistol in hand now that he had lost his spear. The look on his face brought a smile to Amal's when a circle of rope fell around his midsection, squeezing his arm and causing his gun to discharge in a wild direction. Violently, he was ripped from his now very confused mount, the beast kicking the ground and unsure of where to go during the brawl now that his master was gone. 

Amal mounted it with an impressive spring, landing on the saddle and doing his best to calm it down. Amal was vaguely aware one the ogres swung an arm, but he didn't think on the consequences until the body of a broken man flew straight at him like a sailing rock thrown from a mangonel! 

"Hya!" He cried, sending the horse forward, narrowing dodging the missile. Amal laughed, kicking his mount over to where Emmaline hid, extending his hand for her to grab. "Let us find some nice beds instead of the ground, yes?"