Nash watched the leaders, most of which were either cut down to the bone (some worse, as they were all but pushed into the wire) and flailed as the crowd panicked.<br/>When the knights broke it he nodded, smiling.<br/>Half of these leaders looked as if they had no military experience whatsoever. Sad, really.<br/>He crouched down on the ground, waiting. As the last leaders evacuated he kept his eyes open, and found the approaching Knight, his plumes torn asunder by the crowds.<br/>"I'm glad someone here knows how to handle panic." He leered at the fleeing leaders, and called,  his voice not too concerned, nor too loud, "Anyone attempting to flee will be cut down by the Slayer, I advise against it. They're up to something, all right."<br/>He thumbed the small group of scouts on the far dunes and watched the Cryx retreat with marked interest.<br/>As the knight grabbed his sword he smoothly got to his feet and held his own paltry blade out to the side, taking a stance with one foot forward and the back leg bent.<br/>His eyes didn't change, still as wide and empty as before. "Hello, Sir Knight. I suggest you move out before my comrades execute whatever it is they're doing up there."<br/>He pointed again to the dunes, where they were gathering and fiddling with machinery of some sort. One small figure looked through a scope at them, and, recognizing the pose, Nash waved cheerily. "You would be one of the few to escape them. I would not endanger my life in such a way by enacting petty revenge, though."