[Molly wipes his fingers on his knee-high boots and gingerly lays the helmet down with disgust. He doesn't want to think too hard about how something can cause a head injury of that sort of significance without crushing the helmet.] Am I the only one who brought a weapon?

[He flips his coat to reveal his two scimitars, removing both, so he has them in his grip, but not activating them yet. He doesn't want to chance the fact that he might have to put them down, and he needs all the blood he can spare.

The thumping is getting louder. A strange primal panic seizes him.] Let's just move quickly? Please? I don't think stealthy's an option anyway.