"Cris, Henry, I need help!"
Cris slid to a stop, Henry leaning on his knees breathing heavily peered through the rain in the direction the cry had come from.
"Who the blaz-" Cris motioned for quite cutting Henry off, he drew his cutlass, Henry reached into his heavy jacket pulling out a heavy boarding axe. They cautiously walked down the street searching for the source of the cry. Henry gestured that he had found something, he was glancing down an alley between two buildings. Cris on the other side of the street, moved so that he could see down the alley. There were three men, each in varying states of upset. The tattered old clothing of two of the men gave them away for gutter rats, the other perhaps a sailor. It was no great riddle, but peering through the gloom he did not recognize the man that must have called for help, ah well perhaps he had rich friends and he'd already unsheathed the cutlass.
He brandished the cutlass in the air above his head, and as he charged bellowed "AIRSPRITE!"
he entered the alley Henry close on his heel shouting "AIRSPRITE AND C'PTAIN CRIS!"
The reaction of the gutter rats was comical to behold, the one with a dagger in his shoulder wrenched himself away from the better dressed man and sprinted off down the street, the other tripped and landed face first on the hard ground, he scrambled onto his feet and made after his friend. That left the other man, Cris looked him up and down noting the wound he'd taken. "I know you?"
Henry stood back a bit axe still at the ready.