Andros, watching the melee unfold. saw his chance when the hound flinched at being shot. Ducking to his left afforded him a clear line of fire, and he took the opportunity. His mindblade rocketed forward to cut deep into the dog, severing muscle and organ. The injury rendered Andros's target a bleeding heap on the ground, all but a few steps from death.
Andros strode forth cautiously, moving closer to the pompous self-proclaimed artist. His eyes tracked the Dottari's every move, and he loosed another mindblade at him. The ethereal weapon struck the Dottari in the chest, piercing through his armor and pushing him back a step. As the mindblade dissipated, its target fell to the ground, groaning.
Move Action: Move West to be adjacent to the man being attacked
Standard Action: Attack Dottari
Attack Roll: 14 + 8 = 22
Damage Roll: 8 + 8 = 16
The catwoman's response did nothing to relieve Andros's mounting concern that he was, perhaps, involved in something that was way over his head. Running down the streets in a foreign city with the local law enforcement on his tail with strangers for company-not what he had expected. But just as his mind began to wander from the running, the scene in the alleyway presented itself. Andros stood, watching the conversation unfold. Maybe it was exhaustion, or the strangeness of the situation, or something else that rooted him to the ground, but when the catwoman leapt into action, Andros found himself frozen no longer. Forcefully opening his hands, he willed his panoply into existence again, and then gestured, launching one at the hound nearest him. The impact tore through the throat of the animal and the mindblade pierced the pavement before disintegrating.
Andros saw the redheaded woman reemerge and watched as the beasts let loose spouts of flame. His fascination was broken by the impact of a feline figure barreling past him, and his head whipped around to follow the cat woman rushing away from Aria Park. Andros swore under his breath. As much as he would have liked to stay and keep fighting, the odds had drastically changed. He bolted after the catfolk; she seemed to have an idea of where she was going.
...and it probably wouldn't hurt to call out to her, if only to not look hostile. "I hope you know where you're going, because I certainly haven't the slightest!"
The Chelish thug's approach was accompanied with a shout of exertion and intent, and Andros whirled around before throwing himself back. The swing went wide, landing on a nearby citizen. Andros narrowed his eyes. The spent mindblade reformed behind him, and one of its kin rocketed forward. It found its resting place between the thug's eyes, and he fell.
Andros took a deep breath and turned, pushing through the crowd to where the fighting seemed to be more intense.
Panoply of Blades replenishes at the beginning of the turn.
Standard Action: Attack Chelish Thug (Adjacent to Andros)
Attack Roll: 19 + 8 = 27
Confirmation Roll: 11 + 8 = 19
Damage Roll: 6 + 8 = 14
Crit: 14 * 2 = 28
Move Action: Move 10 feet east
Andros followed the path of the dagger as it sank in to the woman's throat with his eyes, and his fascination only grew as he watched her yank it out, the wound disappearing in seconds. His gaze followed her until he was pulled out of his daze by the crack of gunfire. Unfamiliar with the sound, Andros blinked and refocused to see that fighting had erupted from the tension. Scanning the crowd, he noted the men in uniforms and armor, the ones attacking protesters. His left hand clenched into a fist, calling his mental arsenal to his side. A half dozen mindblades, weaponized constructs formed of mental effort, came into existence around him. As they crackled and glowed with obvious energy, Andros singled out a Dottari guard and gestured, sending a single blade careening into the fracas. The weapon found its target in the guard's chest, sinking through his chainshirt with ease. As the guard dropped dead, the mindblade disintegrated, spent. Andros furrowed his brow and turned to assess the situation further.
Andros took a deep breath, and felt his blood sing with excitement. The protest was exactly what he was looking for, and what luck to venture upon it so soon! But it wouldn't do to be overexcited and rash-that would only serve to ensure that he applied his efforts inefficiently. Instead, Andros looked out into the crowd, and heard the protesting against something about grain intensify. To the side, a bottle smashed against a wall, (a floor, even? Hard to be sure amidst the clamor) thrown by an aggressor unseen.
Trouble. Andros looked around to note the positions of the uniformed guards. Instinctively, his fingers flexed, falling into long rehearsed positions in preparation.