"Even against three mid-ranks, this should hold for long enough to give us time to think." 

Ishmerai appears from one of the shadows of the room. 

"I recieved a panic room alert. What happened?"

"It appears," says Yvette, "that I pissed off the Shadows."

"How many, what rank?"

"Three. Mid-rank. And they're organized, too."

"... We may be dealing with a Master. We are underequipped to deal with a Master."

"How quickly can we retreat if it is a Master," whatever that is, doesn't matter, "and - where is my bodyguard, I distinctly remember having one."

"We've occupied him with an important mission elsewhere, because you cannot convincingly fake being your historical self to a bodyguard who has known you all your life."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Ah. Right. Okay."

"Fortunately, we are not without resources."

"Do you have any weapons training, Yvette?"

"Does having decent accuracy with thrown knives count?"

"That counts." 

Ishmerai offers a knife. 

"This is called the Lady. It's enchanted. The enchantment is an awful one to have right now, but not having it is worse than having it. Normal weapons can't even scratch Shadows of this level." 

Sophia coughs.

"Usually."

Yvette takes the knife.

"What's the enchantment?"

"Greater risk, greater reward. This situation has more than high enough risk already."

"Oh, wonderful. Okay then. Any, uh, tips?"

"Leave the fighting to us. If you have to, aim for the eyes or the heart - the heart's on the right side, not the left - and try to put it down in one shot. The blade you're holding likes lucky hits."

"Seffie, you're going to be playing bodyguard for Yvette while I mount our counterattack. Your precog's better used as a defensive measure. Don't worry about leaving any for tomorrow: this is sufficiently dire that it's better for you to overspend."

"Agreed. I'll need Grace and the Bastard." 

Ishmerai vanishes.

"Do you need me in a corner, out of the way, or do you need me where I can easily move from?"