With some of the pressure eased from the defenders they immediately rallied and pressed the advantage. As the slashed and stabbed, the bandits more and more began to back away but in the confines of their surroundings they were more like a flock being herded into the slaughterhouse some made whispers for mercy and forgiveness, other fought with the desperate lunacy of a man who knows he fights or he dies. On one side, the armoured man was battering them back with his shield whilst the woman with the exotic blade was throwing strange vials which spewed some gaseous poison that Vetur was sure he wouldn't want to breathe in. All the while, an elf was dancing through her opponents, dealing quick strikes with her twin daggers.<br/><br/>On the other side - Vetur's side - things were just as bleak for the bandits. Both of his weapons were slick with blood, right through to the grip. His furs were plastered into a slick red, and where his armour showed, it bore flecks and splashes too. The brutality of the Northman was evident as the axe bit deep into a bandits hip, cracking the bone underneath. The scream was loud, but brief, as Vetur finshed him - his longsword slashing across the man's throat, nearly severing his head from his shoulders in a spray of crimson.<br/><br/>It didn't take long for the last of them to be dropped. When the cries of dying men and the ringing of steel on steel died down, Vetur breathed a heavy sigh - something between relief and satisfaction. He kicked the man at his feet until his limp body rolled over, and he knelt to dislodge the waraxe between the corpse's ribs.<br/><br/>When he stood, the others were stood before him and he finally got a chance to examine them. Two were women; one was the elf rogue who watched from behind her companions, blades still drawn. She wore very light gear - lighter than that of even the nimblest Warden in Weisshaupt, but having seen the way she moved, it was clearly for her benefit. The other was human, wielding the deadly looking curved blade Vetur hadn't seen before but heard about: a kat-something. Lastly was the tall man with the sword and shield. He was heavily armoured like the Northman himself, but there were no signs of a station or order - most likely a mercenary of some kind. The woman with the katana stepped forward and made a sudden movement. Vetur's grip tightened on his weapons and he clenched his teeth but relaxed when she sheathed the blade and spoke her thanks.<br/><br/>Vetur nodded, and gave a simple: "You're welcome." He nodded to the man too when he was thanked again, but shook his head to the question: "No, I didn't know. I merely heard the commotion and thought I'd take a look..." With a shrug of his massive shoulders to signify there wasn't anything else to it, he reached up and unfastened the soaked fur from his shoulders and used what clean sections his could to wipe the red from his face and hands. But in doing so, he fully revealed the heavy plate beneath, the griffon mark of the Grey Wardens, and the emblem he wore like a medallion; the one he'd been given by the Pentaghast clan for this mission and, unknown to Vetur, the same ones his new acquaintances bore.