[center][h3]Skarsat[/h3][/center]

From his position behind the cart, Skarsat had not so much insight into about where the whole cart was heading towards. His vision was blocked by empty containers, jars full of alchemist's fire, barrels serving as wooden wrappers for selfish bandits who had had enough bad luck not only for themselves but for the whole lot of people as well, and two other individuals whose uselessness had already been ascertained in the female and -- fortunately! -- not yet proven or disproven in the male case. Right now both of them made the effort of pushing only more difficult, only feeding Skarsat's desire to leave the job of steering in the hands of those who actually were in control of the pair of wheels that could turn.

Skarsat's ongoing thoughts shattered to pieces as he felt and heard something whizzing right through the gap between his arm and body as if through an almost ridiculously small archway. The barrel it hit, to use less harmful words, structurally failed and revealed its content just as the latter made the ultimate transition from life to death. In the brief moment before their mule's shriek announced the end of their short drive, Skarsat could see into Neh'miah's eyes. They were wide open almost as if the thief had seen that shot coming which, of course, was a thing of impossibility. Maybe the result of one last, uncontrolled stimulus as nerves had been severed and pushed aside by shattered bones ? The grotesque statue the man had been reduced to toppled over and landed on the ground butt-first as the cart veered to the right onto a collision course, the lethal bolt still sticking out at the back of the head and the front of the dislocated jaw.

[color=f7941d]"Get yer arse down, ye fecking hefty oaf...! Yer gonna get ye fecking head shot off!"[/color]

Y'Vanna's heavy accent brought Skarsat's attention back to the fact that difficulties had just begun. Not sitting on the cart had spared him from the worst of the impact, but he was still blatantly exposed indeed! The Tork man's shadow engulfed Y'Vanna for a fraction of a second as he jumped over the cart's remains, landing next to the woman with one massive noise.

[color=yellow]"Get your driving skills up!"[/color] he snapped back at her, adding [color=yellow]"And keep your head away from the cart. These crossbows are strong!"[/color] If one of those bolts could punch trough a barrel, it could probably also get quite a bit through the wooden boards in front of them and hit anybody who did not keep some fair bit of air between them and himself.

Skarsat was well aware of his new investment being slung right over his shoulder and just waiting for a first use. Space was quite an issue for a big man big bow combination if one had to remain covered for the sake of staying alive, but even more so would it be an issue for him to try and get to the shit [i]without[/i] any of those four trained soldiers hitting him. It had almost worked before already... Perching on the dock's dirt and making his height as insignificant as possible, Skarsat readied his weapon and tried to make an educated guess about one of sheriff's men rough position by sound. He did not dare to raise his head above the cart's frame until he really had to for one quick, final correction of his aim.

And only as he was about to do that he noticed what their crazy madwoman was doing... This Solange dared to search and loot the shit out of their dead comrades while under fire! Now would she at least offer to share the spoils or would she keep everything to herself ? Hell why did he even wonder... However, just as much as Skarsat felt his profound aversion towards her refueled by her actions, he also found them to be quite useful for himself. The Sheriff's bowmen would probably pay less attention to him taking his final aim while looking -- or perferably just shooting at -- Solange's nice butt making a run for it, would they ?

The broadhead arrow cut through the air with a hissing noise. Skarsat really would have preferred to just kill Gerranti and thereby take the head of the snake instead of just cutting away a small slice of its tail, but Gerranti was in cover and one ranged fighter less still improved everyone's odds. So the individual hit was one of those with a crossbow just as the soldier got his hand off the crank. The man's breakfast was to suddenly find a second exit from his guts along with large quantities of blood as the armor had only provided insufficient protection against the broadhead. Gerranti's subordinate collapsed almost instantly and frantically pressed his hands against the disturbingly large arrow and its entry wound, but a few seconds later the cries became fewer and quieter already. So that was one quarter of the most immediate threat eliminated.

Still three quarters left though and they were running out of time as the melee fraction of Gerranti's men would certainly not wait forever until closing in. They had to get away from here and now there were three not only halfway disciplined, but also very angry shooters just waiting for anyone to come out of the cart's cover. The ship was just too far away for a mad dash, it would have to be a lunatic's dash!

That was, unless...

Skarsat's eyes wandered towards one of the cart's wheels that looked a bit dislocated as if its axle had partially cracked. To his delight he noticed that these were not some of those more delicate hub and spoke weels, but made by a much more primitive and heavy-duty design comprised of thick wooden boards bolted to each other in separate layers and ultimately carved into their final, round shape. That could work, at least for one of them! The Tork crawled towards the piece of equipment and did his best to complete the damage, yanking it off the axle's remains and figuring out how to get a good hold on it without exposing his fingers on the other side too much.

That was one very makeshift shield, but still a lot better than nothing and probably sufficient to protect him while moving ducked and someone much smaller than him while running. He'd only need it for one thing before handing it over to Y'Vanna and that was reaching Neh'miah's body. Searching it for the pricey stuff like that vulture called Solange ? Never! There were more speedy options available to extract any of the coins or other valuables the poor man had been carrying, options that even would preserve the chance to give the fellow anything similar to a proper burial at sea. And of course he'd be able to put it between him and the guards as a larger, thicker, softer version of a shield for himself while Y'Vanna used the wheel. Given the mess that Neh'miah's head had been turned into it would take an incrediby bad strike of luck to desecrate it any worse than the city's officials would, would it ?

[color=yellow]"Y'Vanna ? Give me cover and tell me when at least some of them are reloading again!"[/color]

But... now what! Explosions ? Smoke ? There were too many weird things going off for Skarsat's poor mind to understand simultaneously... Now if he could only wait for the smoke to become the thickest and then get this body...

[hider=Rolls/actions]
- Attack the guard with the champion's bow and a broadhead arrow: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/23351]roll for aim (1d20 + 3 archery)[/url], [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/23352]roll for damage (1d8 + 3 strength)[/url]
- Retrieve one of the cart's wheels as a makeshift shield for further actions later on: no roll[/hider]