"Yeah, yeah, all in the technique!" Salem snarked back at Joe, adjusting his grip on the stone hammer's handle. The knights' numbers were dwindling quickly, pools of black, inky sludge pooling around them as the misty spray lost pressure and instead began to dribble out of holes in their metallic vessels. A macabre sight, but luckily one without any other sort of abusive sensory effect. Its scent, or lack thereof, was little more than a feeling that made it noticeable.<br/><br/>Taking on the last knight of his side of the hall, Salem eyed the opponent carefully. In one arm, it wielded an unfairly big targe, the front of which was lined with spikes. In the other, it held a heavy-looking halberd. It moved with a strategic pattern, keeping its shield raised on Salem at all times, the pointed spearhead of the halberd raised above it to strike. The two were in a stalemate for a tense few moments, broken by a sudden piece of advice from Solomon.<br/><br/>"Oh for the love of Christ,<span style="font-style: italic">go over it.</span>" The demon snapped out, referring to the shield. There was no way Salem was going to break through it, and he highly doubted that he'd be able to go around. So what better option than over?<br/><br/>"What?" Salem immediately asked. He wasn't entirely sure what going over entailed.<br/><br/>"Just throw me," Solomon dryly responded. Luckily, Salem proved good enough at taking directions, and after taking a spin, he tossed the demon's hammer-shaped form up and over the knight's shield. It looked up, and above it, Solomon very swiftly twisted himself back into his sword-shaped formation. Tip pointing downward, he fell into the knight's chainmail neck, piercing it and entering the cuirass of the metal being's body. He followed up the dropping stab by extending a multitude of spikes from the blade, many of which pierced the knight's chestplate and held it in place.<br/><br/>Watching it all unfold, Salem got the idea to take advantage of the situation. Running forward, he grabbed a fallen axe from one of the dead knights, and once behind the demonic armour, a mighty swing cleaved into the plate and split it apart. Black mist sprayed forward from the gaping hole, and Solomon's spikes retracted as he returned to his neutral form and hopped onto Salem's shoulder.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>From her hiding spot, Mary frowned deeply at the weapons contest going on in front of her. A gun? Bad. Very bad. While she couldn't measure the severity of getting shot for Eve, she was quite confident that a bullet would put any normal human down if well-aimed. The flames Eve summoned? Also bad. She could see how it would be effective, but she definitely didn't want to get caught in any crossfire. Whether it was demonic magic (she assumed it was magic) or hot lead, she didn't want to get either tossed at her.<br/><br/>The guy, Damon, didn't look like he was planning to leave, and Mary was growing ever more tense. He at least didn't seem to be paying attention to her. Sneaking forward across the ground, she left the ineffective shadows of the table and tried to be stealthy as she approached the door's shattered remnants. Picking a large and conveniently club-shaped piece of wood, made from the part of the door that hinged to the wall, she stood up and hefted it over her shoulder. Splinters be damned, she wasn't about to stay there and die if these two decided to fight. Action was not immediately taken, but at the first sign of Damon going for his gun, she was ready to bring the wood down over his head.