Marcellus released his grip on the now incapacitated soldier; poor Jenkins wouldn't be remembering anything past his early teen years for at least a day. Memory magic was a precise art; such a shoddy job done in haste, especially on such a large scale, usually decayed soon enough. The mind mage turned his focus to the other minds within his senses. Despair and self-derision from Fossil; nervousness and triumph from the soldiers upstairs; frustration and panic from the inquisitor; a mixture of grim confidence and... was that excitement?... from the inquisitor's adjutant; and one mind he couldn't read, someone practically unconscious, right next to a relatively intelligent animal that was scared out of its mind but too disciplined to act on that fear. Marcellus furrowed his brow; he couldn't feel Lewin's mind. A moment later, as Lewin came barreling back towards the cottage, he felt oddly reassured at the dark, swirling storm of unbridled bloodlust and fury at the edge of his consciousness. He could guess what was happening from that; the inquisitor was losing control of the situation, Fossil was likely captured, the adjutant was injured, and Lewin was about to go berserk. The last mind was the only one that troubled him.<br/>Thinking quickly, Marcellus scampered up the ladder like a spider and slammed the trap door shut loud enough for the soldiers upstairs to hear, activating his rune trap. Sliding back down the ladder, he dashed out of the cove, up a hill, over the scorched remnants of a birch tree, and onto the roof of the hut. Crouching, he took stock of the situation and felt satisfied that it was about as he had expected. He scanned area, mentally marking the positions of each combatant, and of the source of the enigmatic feeling he was getting earlier: a single humanoid, draped over the back of a very nervous looking horse like a sack of potatoes. That person... a prisoner? Regardless of their identity, that person was probably the critical piece of this disjointed, bloody and irritatingly loud puzzle.<br/>Launching himself from the roof, Marcellus somersaulted to the ground, drawing and throwing two daggers at the rabble of soldiers in the doorway, landing beside a rather shocked looking inquisitor. Without giving her time to react he sprung forward once again, towards the abandoned horse and out of the path of a certain crimson rage storm. Covering the ground in a matter of second Marcellus grabbed the horse by the reigns and swung himself onto the beast's back, sending calm and trust to the animal; non-sentient beings were much more easily influenced that those with cognitive thought. As his butt hit the saddle he brushed his fingers across the exposed neck of the person draped across the saddle, which he now recognized as a water nymph woman. Information flooded his mind, and as he made sense of it Marcellus couldn't stop himself from grinning.<br/>"FOSSIL!" Marcellus shouted, his normally quiet voice booming across the distance. "SOMEBODY'S HERE TO SEE YOU!" From the look on both the inquisitor and her adjutant's faces, this was exactly the correct thing to do.