Quote Originally Posted by 5a Violista View Post
It's not that she meant the driver was going to survive, but rather now she's giving him permission to not die. Now, whether or not he dies isn't up to her.

Sunglasses Guy, along with his skeleton, goes over there where directed. Labcoat lady is reaching for a prisoner, with her syringe, but. . .
She didn't expect a dog!
Anchor's clever plan pays off, because the lady hadn't even realized that dog was with Anchor, or that it was anything more than a regular dog. Briar doesn't need to go around the cart to see her - it can smell where she is, and Briar growls. The dog makes a bite in the air.
And then,
Labcoat lady shouts in pain and suddenly drops all her syringes. Her arm starts bleeding, and a purple psychic energy shaped like dog's teeth has clamped down around her arm. It pulls her away from cart and yanks her to the ground. Labcoat lady tries to pull off the psychic mouth, but it's too strong for her and just digs deeper.

meanwhile
Off the road, Zophiel appears by the tough guy. If it were a fair fist fight, then the paladin would definitely lose, but - fortunately - it is neither fair nor a fistfight. The paladin's able to quickly subdue him and tie up his arms.
Briar pulled it off perfectly! "Good dog." Anchor reassures them.

She concentrates and flicks her hand such that Sunglasses Skeleton tries to flip over and then hold in place, lying spread out on the ground.
Then she looks back to where labcoat lady is being pulled down by a purple mouth and uses one of the spells that she doesn't need to refer to the book for - a brief and intense spike of pain - before advancing a few more steps.
"p̢̢̻̩͐̄ͤ ͦ̓ͩ̀͏̠s̎͐ͤ͂͏̰͎͚̰͙̜͖ ̴̶̼̣̣͉̔͞l̝̝͖̹̗͍̎͛ͨ̕͝"

Hopefully that will distract the lady further. She isn't too far from the dropped syringes of unclear function, and Anchor never did get the hang of magically breaking objects at a distance, so she figures not giving her a chance to get back to them is the way to go.

"Saint-killing spear." Anchor requests. Her shadow, grudgingly admitting that retrieving the spear is easy enough even in its worn-out state, passes the weapon to her left hand. A quiet music fills the air - remember those days when we weren't in a battle of treachery among a slavers' caravan? Weren't those better times? (no, we're not asking the Tough Guy).