Well, this was bad. From where he was lurking in the shadows Marcellus shot forward like a quarrel from a crossbow. He had heard the warrior Lewin's words and felt the flood of pure, unchecked rage; he now watched, almost in slow motion, as the inquisitor threw the spy Fossil in the path of the frenzied berserker and ran away, screaming for guards. This was very bad.<br/>Marcellus slid between the two just as the Lewin brought his enormous blade down with both hands towards Fossil. Sword in one hand, dagger in the other, he crossed his blade with Lewin's and used the dagger to support it in a double block, providing maximum leverage; even then, he was blown backward by the sheer force behind the blow. Bowling into the spy behind him. He felt pain in his side, and heard a crack. Damn it all. Regaining balance, crouched on all fours, he reached forth with his power and put his full concentration into quelling the warrior's arcane rage. As soon as he felt the fury subside, he shifted attention to himself. There was no time; he could already hear the shouts of guards in the distance. Prodding his sides with his fingers, he felt a bruise, but not break. Whichever meant...<br/>Marcellus scurried over to the incapacitated Fossil and inspected her. Three cracked ribs. Damn it twice. He shouted to the nymph on the ship. "Is all the rigging in place?!" He turned to Lewin and the slave girl. "We need to leave. NOW." Not waiting for a response from any of the three parties, he cradled the collapsed form of fossil and dashed to the ship to apply first aid.