"Iln... friend... help?" Raice mouths in English the words he most recognizes from his mother's native tongue, before wrenching free and romping down the slope.  He'd come for her; she'd come to him; and now, someone else who needed her was alone.  "Mother, please have faith in me right now... someone needs you far more."<br/><br/>Disregarding Iln's decision, be it to follow him or aide her friends, he was soon face-to-face with the first cultist, a beserk badger tearing mud ruts into the ground with its feet; Raice held his Khukuri backhand, keeping the blade out away from the back of his arm, and using it to parry a claw, slicing the fur's arm down the middle beneath.  As he stepped in further, several more turned their attention; many frothing at the mouth in fury.<br/><br/>"This is where irrational..." He mutters, not bothering to finish his sentence.  One furious reptile gives a mighty leap, smacking his right arm with its tail and freeing the Croc-Dundee sized knife from Raice's grip... at this point, three more surround him, taking not even a breath before charging in for the kill.<br/><br/>Raice slides his fingers beneath his rugged shirt by this point, tugging at something.  The lioness to his right flank flies backward, gripping her crushed, lacerated throat and crawling away from the fracas; Raice now wields the thick chain that had formerly made several loops about his hips, and brings it about in several swift loops, wreaking dark blue and violet marks, hidden beneath the fur of his retreating aggressors.<br/><br/>Their cries, however, only attract the ire of their comrades, a few more pressing in even as the masses crowd the doors and climb the walls.  Raice begins to twist his body and arms to keep the chain in an elaborate semisphere of protection... anything within a yard and a half of him would certainly get it, and it becomes overwhelmingly clear that these fanatics know little of pain as the lizardboy finds himself slowly ascending a pile of unconscious beasts whipping more and more harshly, taking scrapes and scratches from all sides, teeth gritting... but soon enough, he has the upper hand again.  They learn, they stand away, and some even flee.  Given his space now, the young man kicks free from the ground his knife, taking it in hand.  Perhaps four of these monsters were left, and rather battered, keeping their feral eyes on him.  Snarls.  Bestial spite.<br/><br/>"I am Raice, son of Iln.  Fighting has been my life, and I live every day as though it's my last." He announces proudly.  "So." He shrugs, tasting blood from his lip, smelling it trickling down his sinuses... and standing in good posture, holding his knife in the offhand.  "Who's next?"