He would have pushed the offensive against Lashan if he had the opportunity, but the mob behind him had peppered enough attacks to divide his attention. The next time he feels crows part, he sends a kick connecting with some part of a girl's body. His blows weren't yet strong enough to break much while lashing out blindly, but they hurt all the same.

The fight had quickly devolved from swordplay to wild animal thrashing between the lot of them. Still, he refused to stop fighting. It was scrape away on his own or die. Teeth grit, he feels the tug of the rope and draws his dagger from his belt. Unlike the sword, the steel was clean, slicing through with ease as he dashes low towards the womans' legs.

There was little thought to the maneuver beyond using whatever strength was left in him to throw them both bodily to the ground. The great sword is lost in the mud. His dagger might nick skin but was hardly coordinated enough to be targeted at an artery while they fell.