Snippet #1961975

And the attacks pierced the copy to little effect, dispelling its existence. The Balthazar holding the sword now stood behind Messor, raising a boot to kick the bastard out the door with all his mighty. While he was a wirey fellow, and obviously meant for more fluent and sharp motions like deflections and weaves, he still had some force behind his body. "Can't you even trust your eyes?" he mocked. The kick sent his own arms flailing back and upper half jerking packwards to give the leverage he could to give as much as he could.

After all, if this didn't knock the man outside, then he could be in some trouble. Lurking overhead were the men, the seven he had recruited, masked, cloaked and with a bundle in their hand. They looked suspiciously like fireworks, but their properties were much less pleasant, more akin to a flash bang, with emphasis on the bang.