"Then no one is left who can defend the civilians, and they tear the women and children apart. No."

"I should go set up in the parlor on the second floor, it's a good angle to shoot from. What shall the signal be that we are out of hope?"

"Shoot any man who crosses the fence. Shoot no man who doesn't. Shoot no one in the act of fleeing."

He glances at the Iomedans, silently checking whether this is an acceptable amount of monstrous.

Aniol gathers up all the dishes in the tablecloth, tosses the lot aside, and turns the dining table sideways to cover the broken exterior window.

"I have Communal Protection from Arrows," he repeats, in the direction of the Archduke of Menador but with a glance at his Iomedaen consciences. "Should also handle rocks. Up to six people. How should I balance that between combatants and civilians?"

"Combatants. If the civilians are hit, our defenses are already gone, and protection from arrows won't save them. Anyone who can shoot but not take an arrow should get it first."

And who would those people be, then?

The Iomedaeans can use a bow but Marit's planning to head out unarmed. Which will make the Protection all the more useful, really; possibly when weapons bounce off him it will give anyone pause so he can talk. 

Valentia returns, unstrung bow in hand. "Civilians are gathered at the back of the courtyard. Do you want them there, or in the cellar?" She asks Ramirez; he's the one who gave her the errand.

"Cellar. Ramriez, get your men in here if you want the protection on them, if we wait any longer for Marit there's no point."

Aniol rushes up. So does Dídac.

Xavi is not a civilian. Xavi is a half-grown Menadorian noble boy. He will pass his uncle arrows. Dídac has Ray of Frost and can snipe with that, if not terribly well.

He will cast Communal Protection from Arrows on the six people Narikopolus designates. He doesn't include himself; he doesn't intend to hide in the cellars but he doesn't really have enough combat spells to be a proper combatant.

"All right. Marit, go. Everyone else, get your weapons and take positions. They are thickest at the main entrance."

Llei is in the front hall, bow already strung, trying to make passable fortifications. There are an infuriating number of massive windows; the wall is almost more glass than stone.

Nod. "Iomedae preserve us." He goes.

Arn clasps Marit's arm as he heads out. "Goddess go with you."

"Yeah. See you - eventually." Because this isn't going to work. But he goes to the main doors and steps outside.

Iomedae forgive them. Pharasma forgive them, not that it matters, all of the defenders but Arn and Archduke Blanxart being thoroughly damned already. He takes the side opposite Llei and prepares his bow.

A miracle is the only thing that could make this situation more embarrassing!!! 

He's going to descend the steps and head for the crowd. Mobs are insane. But they contain people and if you can remind the people of that, sometimes they can be reasoned with. He looks for someone specific. A man in the forefront. Make eye contact. "I'm an Iomedaen representative to the nobility here for the convention. Can I help you?"