The loud crack of gunfire fills the air once, then twice, then a third time in quick succession. Boromir may be unfamiliar with guns, but the results of the weapon should be plain enough as three of the creatures fall respectively with each bang, ripped away from their would-be victims to collapse in growing pools of blood. The neat, round wounds in torsos and faces are efficient and well-aimed.

"Nice sword," Ianto comments rather casually, appearing to one side. He's close enough he doesn't have to shout, but not so close Boromir might accidentally nick him. He raises his firearm again and takes out another of the creatures as it leaps at him.