Chaos erupted in the thoroughfare as the fight from the tavern spilled out into the city street. The drunken revelers soon joined the brawl, and it wasn't long before the guards and even the Inquisition joined the fray, attempting to quell the violence. Things became truly hectic, however, when a stable of eight horses were spooked by the nearby altercation and stampeded out into the crowd, their terrified cries rising above the ruckus of the crowd.
Renault, for his part, watched on with mild bewilderment as the scene went from bad to horrible in the space of a few seconds. If those horses kept rampaging, dozens of people could end up dead. And here he was, on the scene. 'Shit. So much for keeping a low profile...' He bolted over to the nearest such horse, a large black thing with its staddle and reins still mounted.
His reflexes forced him to take a step back, however, as a broken bottle barely whizzed past his head. Two drunks from the crowd had seemed to mark him as a target and were brandishing makeshift weapons, barring his way to the rampaging horse. His hands almost motioned to draw his swords before he quelled the reflex. 'Lethal force would attract too much attention. But, these are drunks, so this shouldn't be too hard...'
With one swift motion, Renault reached back and grabbed his musket by the barrel, while taking a deft step forward. In a single swipe, the stock struck the side of one brawler, and, with a twist of his legs, directed the momentum of the blow towards the other brawler. No less than a second after he had drawn, both laid in a crumpled heap on the ground. With is his path now clear, Renault lept onto the horse, pulling back on the reins has hard as he could. The stallion bucked in protest, but after a few authoritative tugs it eventually settled down.
Renault, for his part, watched on with mild bewilderment as the scene went from bad to horrible in the space of a few seconds. If those horses kept rampaging, dozens of people could end up dead. And here he was, on the scene. 'Shit. So much for keeping a low profile...' He bolted over to the nearest such horse, a large black thing with its staddle and reins still mounted.
His reflexes forced him to take a step back, however, as a broken bottle barely whizzed past his head. Two drunks from the crowd had seemed to mark him as a target and were brandishing makeshift weapons, barring his way to the rampaging horse. His hands almost motioned to draw his swords before he quelled the reflex. 'Lethal force would attract too much attention. But, these are drunks, so this shouldn't be too hard...'
With one swift motion, Renault reached back and grabbed his musket by the barrel, while taking a deft step forward. In a single swipe, the stock struck the side of one brawler, and, with a twist of his legs, directed the momentum of the blow towards the other brawler. No less than a second after he had drawn, both laid in a crumpled heap on the ground. With is his path now clear, Renault lept onto the horse, pulling back on the reins has hard as he could. The stallion bucked in protest, but after a few authoritative tugs it eventually settled down.