Fyr looked at his axe for an instant as he realized that he had just lost his family heirloom [i]a second time[/i] right now. It was only a tiny bit of hestitation however as way too many things were happening just now all around him, including a sword directly aimed at him.

It seemed though that the man wielding it experienced an equal amount of misfortune. The blade missed though it still came very uncomfortably close to Fyr's skin.

Bereft of his primary weapon due to his very own actions, Fyr reached for the spear he had obtained from the demonfolk back in that ugly cave and pushed the long weapon forward towards the second assassin.

[hider=Attack roll, success]1d20 = 13, Success[/hider]

The metal tip punched what looked like all the way through the man's thigh and, once Fyr started to pull back, started to exhibit some quite asymmetric behavior. In other words it acted as sort of a barbed hook and caused even more bloody destruction in the process. That leg would not work again anytime soon and, assuming that radical treatment wasn't applied very rapidly, would probably pull the rest of the man's life down with it. At least that was how Fyr thought.