There were, in all, six assailants. Each on of them bore dark leather clothing to obscure their features in the dimly lit room, but they seemed to move as a single cohesive unit, the six storming about the room with the precision and deadliness that could only be learned through a lifetime of training with the Antivan Crows. Though they all bore differing weaponry, the principle was the same- relatively short blades to more easily move through the cramped room, each of them honed to a razor's edge for maximum killing efficiency and armor penetration. There wasn't a doubt in the old Veteran's mind- somebody had a mission, a clear target they wanted removed, and they had paid top dollar for the Crow's services.<br/><br/>As soon as Aimil had made her move, the old guard struck, bashing the last assailant's head with his heavy wooden shield, the -thunk- of wood against the padded leather hood resonating before him. Sword raised, he quickly followed through the shield bash with a well-placed slash at the assassin's chest- it didn't look like the assailants were too heavily armored, so at the very least Valerius hoped to hit something tender. In any case the shield had to have dazed his opponent. With luck, his opponent would be too distracted with a crippling headache or even a concussion to be much use in retaliation.<br/><br/>As he was gearing up for a shield strike to the knees, a sharp pain was felt in the old man's shoulder. One of the assailants had somehow managed to pierce his splintmail armor and drive one of the daggers into his body. Luckily for Valerius, the relatively short blade of the dagger was wrenched too tightly into the metal bands, the armor not letting it's newest prize go. With a whirl, Valerius used his free arm to deliver a thunderous blow to the attacker's head, a sickening -crunch- being heard as blood spattered out from beneath the hood. Not long after, the assassin was little more than a twitching, soon-to-be-dead heap on the floor.<br/><br/>"Be sure to keep at least ONE alive!" he roared, reaching with his shield-bearing hand to try and dislodge the dagger embedded in his shoulder.