From the sidelines, in the shadows, Hildegunde watches. Such is her domain as a huntress. Even if not on the job, it is where she finds herself most comfortable. Unseen, unnoticed, until she is ready to strike.

The open chaos is strange; equal parts enthralling and confusing. Her eyebrows furrow as she thinks. 'Proper' society is such a strange beast. This feels like a test of some sort, but she is too out of her depth here to figure out what is being tested. This place is supposedly for heroes - does this mean those who have resorted to violence to secure their spot are already being marked? Or is it truly as it seems - a simple measure of determination and punctuality? Questions, questions. Questions and not enough actions. Whatever the answer, she needed to move, and fast.

Pulling her hood up, she uses a simple codeword. [i]Obscure. [/i] She can't imagine what she's going to do is particularly terrible, but just in case this is a morality test, she'd rather not be easily identified. It's not illegal if you don't get caught and all. 

She inhales. Points a rifle to the sky. Shoots. Trips someone. 


She does not wait to watch her results. She's too busy concealing her rifle and hurrying off.

It's all showmanship, but she hopes if nothing else,  it'll cause a ruckus for those who are dumb enough - or, perhaps, smart enough - to care. And that the poor sucker she tripped will be okay. He, like her, was furthest away from the belly of the crowd - it's unlikely he'll be trampled. If nothing else, the sound of a gunshot alone will inevitably cause just enough panic -even if for a moment - that it'll give her leeway.

And a moment is all she needs.