[color=silver][center][h2][color=#915027]𝔏𝔢𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔯 𝔊𝔲ð𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔰𝔰𝔬𝔫[/color][/h2]
__________________________________________________[/center]

The commotion died down - along with the last of the Valheimians - almost as quickly as it had begun. The corridor was filled with smoke, magical residue and the familiar smell of gunpowder, but the clatter of metal had subsided. He could hear people talking. Perhaps not leisurely, but not with particular urgency, either. The others must have made it out without casualties, then. Good.

As the mage hurried into the hallway, Leifur picked up the rest of his belongings and helped himself into armour. He noted Noelle's injury, but also that it did not seem serious. With a nod, Leifur left her to the room and took in the sight of the bloodied hallway. People had poured out of their rooms and seemed to be standing around, still talking away. Leifur caught the last bits of Zeidgram's words as he joined them. Or at least, he [i]hoped [/i]they were the last bits; this was hardly a time for a speech.

[color=#915027]"If we were attacked, others were, as well. This isn't the last of them. Save the chit-chat and move, before the enemy does."[/color] They'd made an awful lot of noise too, yet there wasn't a sign of a single guard. They must have been fighting elsewhere, long dead, or... well. For this many Valheimians to make it all the way to their chambers without raising alarm, they couldn't discount the possibility of inside help. Perhaps all the way from the top. [color=#915027]"I'm curious to see what has become of Leonhart." [/color]

Ears perked, Leifur started ahead, Gunblade still in hand. He assumed the others would either follow, or keep bickering. Either suited him just fine.
[/color]