Snippet #1231307

With a grin that Amelia couldn't see, Marie reached into her cloak and withdrew a rather nasty device.

"Gas bomb. I'll put it in th' house, 'n they'll be dead fore they notice." Using her flint stones, she attempted to get a spark going, but the rain and splashing into puddles had soaked the fuse, making it useless till she dried it. She sighed lightly and returned it, then unwrapped her chain from around her torso. Using sweeping arm gestures, she wove it into a pair of heavy gauntlets with a cable between them.

"I s'pose this is th' more excitin' way, ya? Follow me." Marie used both of her fists like a hammer and smashed the window in, jumping clear over the jagged leftovers. She had expected resistance, but not from seven well armed and burly farmhands. "Erm...Amelia? A bit o' help would be spot on, ya know." However, the thugs were already advancing. Her only hope was to get right in the middle and use group tactics...her speciality. She jumped feet first at the tallest of the group, wrapping her legs around his neck and spinning around 180 degrees. The others stared stupidly at her for a moment, allowing Amelia to enter the house undetected.

"No quarter is given, and no mercy to be found! Cast in the name of gold, ye greedy, and prepare to dine a banquet in hell!" shouted Marie, who followed up with an eerie echoing cackle. The men flinched and looked at each other wildy for a moment, and then she was on them. One strike on a goon before moving; this be the golden rule of group fights. Marie loved psychological warfare. If you can convince your opponent that either he is already beat, or that you are invincible, you bring these things to pass. Something she learned in training.

However, there were still six of them, and she wasn't superhuman. She began to tire from swinging her club-like fists, relying more on dodging and footwork than damage.