[center][h3][color=8493ca]Hector Wyland[/color][/h3][/center]
[@Polaris North], [@PaulHaynek], [@AzureKnight]
[hr]
Hector puffed his chest up a bit at having his name be recognized, content that someone actually knew who he was for once. Even a minor noble enjoyed a good ego stroke now and again. [color=8493ca][b]"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Imre,[/b][/color] he said before bowing in kind.

With everyone inside the carriage, Hector would relax a bit, proudly adjusting his rifle's holster over his shoulder while Herne idly slithered along his shoulders, the Master and Summon enjoying a bit of a rest after a spirited sprint. The last carriage ride had been filled with lady-puke and general discomfort, so Hector was glad that he would just get to enjoy the light breeze, and sights of the countryside. Hector wasn't in the know on what Ruecian was speaking of, but, if they had to fight some sort of plague beast, Hector was confident enough that he could prove a match for it.

...He was, in essence, absolutely "feeling himself."

Then came the call from the driver for everyone but Imre to step out. A problem had arrived, and bullets may in fact be the solution! Hector would leave the vehicle with the others, staring at the gathered brigands in their veils and hoods. Their weapons seemed wicked in design, but...well, Hector had a far more wicked weapon waiting on his back. Shavis had three to deal with and Ruecian had two facing him down, leaving five to charge at Einer and Hector. [color=8493ca][b]"Herne!"[/b][/color] the sniper called out, the ghost snake responding with a hearty hiss before launching itself straight at the closest of the attackers. When he would swing upon it however, he would find that the snake lacked a physical body to truly "strike", in turn meaning nothing would happen.

But that moment of "nothing" was all Hector needed to have one of the five a little bit behind. Enough distance that now, Einer and himself could handle two each, with Hector's rifle being quickly brought out with a bullet already loaded in it. [color=8493ca][b][i]"[Smite!]"[/i][/b][/color] Hector called out, the incantation for his Thaumaturgy complete as he fired one shot, the range making it difficult to aim, and only managing to hit a little off-center of his arm...only for Hector to see the shot continue going, the arm now having a fist-sized hole in it.

...Oh, he was absolutely feeling himself now!

[color=8493ca][b]"Herne! Back to me! [Self Order: Control Left Arm!]"[/b][/color] The sniper called out, his snake diving back out from the Earth, slithering up his leg, and seemingly "diving" into his arm, the limb gaining a slightly purple glow as Herne's head poked free of his wrist. The closest brigand facing Hector would swing at him with a wicked looking scimitar, the sniper barely managing to dodge back enough that he wouldn't get slashed across his chest. He didn't have time to pull the lever for his rifle to get another shot off, so Hector would entrust a single command to Herne:

Spin that rifle by the lever. In a coordinated move only possible thanks to his spirit's help, Hector would spin the gun by his middle and ring finger to deflect another swing from the scimitar, the motion carrying just enough force to open the bolt, sending the spent cartridge directly into the left eye of his attacker while Hector moved the bayonet to slide onto the gun. By the time his assailant recovered from the brass hitting his eye, Hector would change the angle of his arm to spin the gun once more at a lateral angle, the knife-tipped barrel slicing at his opponent's sword-arm as Herne kept on spinning. However, it seemed that the bard was having trouble with his opponent. Hector had an opening, and would level his rifle at the burly axeman’s chest before firing, not channeling another Smite due to him suspecting this rifle had more than enough stopping power for a brute of his size. [color=8493ca][b]"Are you alright?"[/b][/color] he called out, turning his attention back to the wounded scimitar-wielder.