Seeing that he's almost all alone, the assassin considered his chances. Wounded, tired and outnumbered, it didn't look good for him. At all. With a look towards the leader, he steeled himself. This was his job. This was his mission. Nothing else mattered. 

[hider=Attack]
1d20+1 = 12 + 1 = 13, Partial Success]
[/hider]

He lunged forward towards Fyr, angry at the death of his unit and managed to strike Fyr in the arm, a mere cut but a symbol of what's to come.