When the gun went off, thankfully no one had gotten shot...or killed.
But when he heard Beatrid grow silent, and the footsteps behind him, he breathed out a curse, and something else as he kept his head lowered in silent prayer to his goddess. Not even a second later, the jewels beneath his flesh lit up, glowing gold, and runes of the same color flashed across his skin, the symbols seeming to come out of now where. Even the whites in his eyes were consumed in the glow as he tossed his head back, spoke another word in his language, and lightning coursed across his body, surging off of his skin. The magic leapt out, striking from one man to another in an explosive array of power, sending all of the men away from the still bound mage in a powerful burst.
As the runes and bright light faded, Gherrick blinked and turned around, spotting Beatrid on the floor. He struggled against the ropes, trying to loosen them to get his hands free, but ended up having to use Beatrid's fallen blade to cut them. As the ropes fell away, he dropped to his knee at her side, turning her over to ensure she hadn't been shot by the gun,a nd sighed when he realized she was breathing and ok.
"Looks like she probably just got a nasty bump to her head," he whispered, and upon hearing one of hte men begin to awake, he worked fast, hefting his bow staff (and the crown) onto his back, while cradling the unconscious Beatrid in his arms. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to get her somewhere safe and off the streets. Going back the way they came might be foolish, but so would going deeper into the slums. Either way was like going into a lion's den. ANd should he take her to the soldiers on guard, or wait and hole off with her somewhere until she awakens to ensure she might not need some treatment? He could heal her after all, mordecai or not. He made a quick decision, spotting a sewer grate nearby and slipped it open with a boot.
It didn't smell all too ground down there, but down here, no one was sure to bother them. But then as he landed down below, his boots meeting with a splash in the slimy green waters, he made a face.
He'd need a bath after all of this was said and done. But he pressed onward, carrying Beatrid until he found a small area beneath the grates on a more active street int he center of town. Above them the world was lively, music even carrying down into the sewers they were hiding in. He set Beatrid down upon a high rise of cobblestone, and sat beside her, working idly to clean off his boots of the sewer muck before glancing her over to see if she was ok. But as he did it, some lovely citizen dropped a dirty banana peel into the grate and it landed on his head. Startled, he shrugged it off, only for the peel to land upon Beatrid's face.