Dean and Methuseld's comments about the coming conflict registered with Donovan quickly. He pushed the handle of the tiller sharply away from himself, sending the rear of the boat sliding in that direction. It also just so happened to be in the direction the wind was blowing - their little sail suddenly snapped more taut and full, and their speed increased appropriately. This zipped them away from where Donovan had intended to park their craft, and instead, they zipped across the openings of several other piers, headed for the last one at the very end. The one that would provide the most 'privacy'.<br/><br/>Donovan always hated this part. The moments before combat. Not because he feared it, but because he had no real wish to kill, crush, or maim men and women he didn't even know. They were following orders... or looking for a bounty... or any number of other reasons that put them in this place, this time, but the end result would be the same. Donovan didn't enjoy the killing and crippling... but he wasn't so sure about Dean.<br/><br/>Dean, however, wasn't exactly himself. Donovan couldn't believe that the fox-girl had fucked him -that hard-... Dean had seen his fair share of pleasures, but never had one taken so much from him. Donovan didn't know whether to be impressed... or terrified. All he -did- know was that there would be no 'fox sex' for him. If Dean was drained by it as badly as he was, Donovan could only imagine what would happen if he, himself, had fallen victim to her whims. Now, Donovan could only silently hope that Dean would revert back to normal - and soon.<br/><br/>They passed the last pier, and Donovan pulled the tiller sharply back toward him, turning their craft to starboard. It was funny, too, casting the occasional glance back at the pier they had -originally- been heading for... seeing the 'dock workers' suddenly tripping over themselves, running back to the main part of the port, when dashing as quickly as they could through the crowds to reach the pier where Donovan was now angling their little boat towards. If it hadn't been clear before, it was now, a group of about a dozen men were coming to give them a 'warm welcome'.<br/><br/>Donovan knew the others would see them. It was hard to miss, the small group pushing through the crowd, knocking some people to the ground in their haste. As the boat coasted the last few yards towards the solid wood pier, Donovan reached forward, pulled on a few ropes - and the sail dropped suddenly, falling to the base of the mast in a heap. The loss of wind and propulsion was immediately felt, just a few seconds before the edge of the boat slapped into the wood planking of the pier.<br/><br/>Aza and her pet fox bounced off as if they couldn't stand to be in the boat one more minute. Methuseld secured the boat. Donovan gave Dean one more worried glance, then pulled himself up onto the pier. At the far end, where the pier met land, the 'welcome part' rounded the corner and began to dash down the wood dock toward them, drawing clubs and truncheons, or sabre or rapier.<br/><br/>"Wouldn't be surprised if all they are meant to do is get us in trouble with the law - so that our -real- enemies could come fetch us at their leisure from the city dungeon," Donovan said as he started walking toward the onrushing men. "We need to get into the city and lost in the crowd - fast-," he said. "I'll take care of these guys... but someone needs to watch the rooftops..."<br/><br/>The nearest onrushing foe was a dozen yards away when Donovan leaned down to pick up a nearby boat oar. As he straightened once more, he summoned the Glory within - his body hardening - his strength increasing. The surge was always welcome, always... enticing and vigorous... He couldn't help but smile as the first few men neared him - his arms already swinging the oar like a club.<br/><br/>-CRACK!-.... the sound of wood splinter - and bones breaking - could be heard as the oar slapped into the bodies of the three nearest foes - their bodies lifted and hurled off to Donovan's left - off the pier and into the water. The oar had cracked - but still held together so that - still smiling - Donovan swung the oar in the other direction. The next three men - wide-eyed at having seen what had just happened to their companions - did their best to skid to a halt and reverse direction.... But it was too late....<br/><br/>-CRACKKKKK!-.... These there men cried out in pain and surprise, more bones breaking, the oar finally snapping half-way down its sturdy length, the wide paddle-end flying into the water on the -other- side of the pier along with the three wounded men.<br/><br/>The last six, being far enough behind, were able to come to a halt - and spread out as Donovan continued to approach with nothing but a small, broken section of wood in his hand, which the remaining men were eying fearfully. Donovan raised a brow - and dropped it. As if that were some sort of signal, the remaining men rushed the unarmed warrior, letting out a battle cry of unintelligible words. They would never realize their mistake until it was too late - and they had each joined their other companions in the water.<br/><br/>Weapons blows rained down on Donovan, yet where his armor did not protect him - the weapons that struck his skin made a sound as if they had struck solid stone. One blade shattered from the impact, sending a sharp jolt of pain up the man's arm who fell to the wood planks clutching it in a fetal position.<br/><br/>Then, it was simply a matter of Donovan pushing, shoving, or lifting and heaving each remaining man from the pier and into the water. Lucky for them, they weren't wearing armor, so they'd have a fairly good chance of swimming to safety - if their arms and legs cooperated. By then, of course, Donovan figured he and his companions would be long gone.<br/><br/>Looking towards the crowds around the dock, some were looking and watching what was happening. Others seemed oblivious. Donovan did not yet see any sign of militia or local law enforcement... but he knew that wasn't going to remain so forever.<br/><br/>"Come on!" he called out, turning to look back at Methuseld, Dean, whoever was still behind him. He had just cleared the way, and now it seemed reaching the safety of the city's crowded streets was more likely than ever....<br/><br/><br/>