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Chad was quite certain he wouldn't be meeting his head removal quota regardless of how the fight played out, unless they managed to hide a veritable army inside the execution room somehow. Funny how the girl was suddenly less keen on rushing in when there was a very real danger of her being fried. Ah well, he couldn't disagree with her assessment, even if charging right into the path of a fire or lightning mage was hardly his idea of a good time. 

He drew his sword from its scabbard at last - the blade was far too clean for his liking - and brandished it lazily at his side. His limbs tingled as sluggish blood began to circulate in his veins at last, crawling faster and faster as the vitae within seeped into his muscles. The room wasn't so big that he believed he'd have a problem, and flames could be outrun, but every millisecond counted when lightning came into play. Red-tinged eyes passed over the group in a languid assessment. Not the finest group of warriors he'd seen, but they'd surely have the numerical advantage. Worst case scenario, he and the Eve could probably mop the whole room up alone like Dionne had insisted.

Suitably prepared, the vampire moved to the doorway and raised a hand, five fingers outstretched. [color=00cc66]"On my mark,"[/color] he whispered, no longer bothering to pay attention to them. Just in case the mages needed time to compose themselves, he took his time counting down, holding his hand up for a beat before he lowered a finger. Then another. Two. One.

As his last finger lowered, Chad burst through the doors as a blur of steel and bestial hunger. He focused first on the guard caught in the middle of the room - the closest, though also the first to spot them. He would've been an excellent choice of prey, if not for the flash of white and gold beyond him that looked far more tantalizing. Seemed Caeli's intel wasn't all it was cracked up to be; the inquisitor was still here. That complicated matters, but also made them more fun. Besides, the ozone scent in the air left little question as to the inquisitor's affinity, which meant closing the distance was more pressing than dispatching some worthless underling. The vampire shifted mid-dash to veer away from a direct collision course with the guard, instead throwing out a wayward backfist as he passed in hopes to catch the man on the head without sacrificing too much momentum.

Pressing on past the first guard, Chadwick descended upon the inquisitor in a fury. Ideally, he'd have gone for the most expedient manner of execution while he still had the initiative, but he'd probably end up skewering the hostage too, and then he'd have to deal with the pestering of bleeding heart idiots all day long. Instead, he aimed his initial slash to the mage's upper torso rather than the more easily-breached guts, light on his feet in preparation to switch gears to evasion should the sparks start to fly.

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Secure hostages, switch to reinforcements if necessary. Got it. Easy, simple, within his capabilities. Well, theoretically, anyway. Quinn inadvertently held his breath as he recognized Count Astorio's gesture not as a motion for them to wait, but a countdown. He wasn't sure how long they'd have until the spells started flying, but it should be just like practice. Besides, he was pretty far back; he shouldn't be the primary target. Just watch for stray bolts or something.

While his initial idea had been to rush in with the rest, the door suddenly looked like ideal cover to hide behind, and as the vampire barged into the room, Quinn barely took a few paces forward, only enough to assess their opposition clearly. Three enemies, several prisoners - wait, which ones were still alive? The one screaming, obviously, but the - the inquisitor was still here?! No, that wasn't his job; the executioner was too connected to the screaming prisoner anyway, he'd likely kill him in midair if Quinn tried to wrest him from the man's grasp. The one on the wall seemed free of any entanglements though, but still close enough to the action that he might end up hurt on accident.

He thrust a hand out toward the blue-haired prisoner, and suddenly the room shifted around him. The wall at Roan's back became the floor, which swiftly tilted into a steep incline that left him little choice but to tumble upward toward the ceiling. Only his restraints kept him from completely falling as he now dangled upward at an impossible angle. Quinn frowned at the display briefly - he stupidly hadn't considered that they'd be actually attached to the floor - but he had a solution regardless. His other hand flayed out at his side and a shimmer in the air manifested over his shoulder with a muttered incantation, elongating into a softly luminous spear that built up momentum in a drill-like spin. It hurtled across the room like a falling star toward the extended chains below - or above, from Roan's point of view - his target, shattering them and dropping Roan into an upward freefall. 

As the ceiling's not-so-gentle embrace rushed closer, Quinn yanked his hand back and the room spun again, with Roan now falling back toward Quinn for a moment before sudden weightlessness overcame him, with only inertia propelling him back to the safety of his rescuers rather than the full weight of gravity.

[color=a366ff]"I got him! Grab the other one,"[/color] Quinn offered, mostly toward Caspian. An aqueous cushion to catch falling prisoners would've been ideal, but he doubted the blond could muster that much water on such short notice, and he certainly didn't want a miscalculation to end with a hostage splattered on the wall.

[hr][@Obscene Symphony]