The barkeep quickly pulled out the sword he kept behind the counter and blocked the attack, leaving a large gash in Separ's hand and nearly causing him to lose a finger, "It's going to take more then ten gold pieces to pay to fix that, now get out of my sight before I call the town guard on all of you." The barkeep ripped the sword from Separ's hand causing him to bleed profusely and wiped the blood off of his blade with a napkin, "If I have to get the guard, then they will cause a whole lot more damage than that."

Things in the tavern seemed to be heating up. The yelling fest between the barkeep and several of the people, people she was at least slightly acquainted with, continued to grow to the point where Alula was beginning to feel anxious again. She didn't want anyone getting in trouble. She allowed herself to peek out from under the cloth. The half-elf now had a cape, the woman was flirting with the barkeep and the paladin looked almost as red as the sun. Suddenly she was being tapped on the shoulder, a wave of flame passing under her skin. And her hat was being pressed into her hand.

She felt the iron heaviness in her gut loosen slighted when she was reunited with her hat. She placed the hat atop her head where it belonged, but kept the cloth in her hands, perhaps not quite ready to part with one of the first physical gifts she had ever received. She was about to timidly thank the man, when she watched him walk right up to the barkeep and attempt to sock him right in the face, only to recieve a bloody hand.

Alula let out a shiver, they were in big trouble now. She gripped the cloth in her hands anxiously.

“Hold on my friend-” Kelvin turned at the sound of a scream, and the entire tavern just broke apart, people shouting and yelling. The one guy looked like a necromancer had taken his face apart and stuck it back together, the girl had ditched the cloak- finally revealing the full suspicious nature of her beauty. Then suddenly the knight starts going off on the bartender, the bartender spits in the guys face. All chaotically thrown together. Kelvin stood up and moved closer, relaxing a bit as Separ moved towards the man. He would cool this down. ... ... ... nope. He lunged to pull the guy back before it was too late... and missed. Damn. It was quite impressive how quickly the barman had responded. And a bit scary. Kelvin groaned, considering. The knight was almost sure to respond violently to that.

“Alright, that's enough.” Kelvin stepped forward and slid between the knight and the counter, turning and attempting to shove the man towards the door before turning and attempting to loop an arm around Separ's shoulders to move him towards the door.
"Come on already! You too little guy." He glared at the girls each in turn, not sparing the man with the messed up face either. He shoved the stick of dynamite into his pocket. “GET. OUT.”

Carver saw the sword come out in slow motion, but its arc was complete before he had time to shout a warning. Blood had been spilled - there could be no doubt that the barkeep was deserving of punishment.

But... not today. Not with the gnome, and the girl, and an already injured friend. Certainly not with the rest of the crowd, who seemed like they might choose the side of the local swindler over the foreign knight.

The bearded man grabbed Separ, attempting to pull hims back and call for a retreat. The idea was a sound one.

Carver spoke, not breaking eye contact with the barkeep. "This villain will face a judgement, friends - of his own making. A life lived in adversity to the right can have no other outcome. But perhaps now is not the time." He looked across the room, making eye contact with each of the strangers - the gnome, the scarred half-elf, the girl, the bearded man, the injured adventurer, even the woman with the air of evil about her who had tried to soothe tensions. "Let us leave, for now. The sun is too high for bloodshed."

The words burned Carver's heart as he said them, but they were true. He promised himself that he would see this man punished one day, but for now he hoped the strangers would take his words to heart.

This barkeeper sure was strong but I wasn't going to let him get the best of me, after all, I was trained to fight with my fists by a master. I knew how to fight unarmed better than most people would, a weapon like that would not deter me, and neither would threats. Just as the bartender finishes his sentence I throw a gutbuster aimed at his stomach with my right arm, hoping I could get him down on the floor covered in his own puke. The whole time both Kelvin and Carver tried to calm me down, but right now this man was deserving of a punch more than anyone I had ever met. If I didn't punch him now what woukd my mentor say? I wouldn't even be able to sleep tonight knowing he potentially harmed or cheated more people. This had to be done now, and I was going to make sure this worked.

The bartender seemed relieved that the paladin and the other guy were getting people out, but then he noticed the kid try and make another punch at him. Sword still in hand, he lowered it so the blade would be in the direct path of the fist. As the fist came in contact with the blade, it slashed it open, causing even more blood to spill on the counter, "Next time, I won't let you keep your hands."

Alula had wished she hadn't decided to peek out from under her hat again, because what she saw disgusted her. It wasn't the blood that truly bothered her, blood was just blood after all. But it was the context everything was it. Pure rage and no reason. Neither of these men, the barkeep or the man who returned her hat, had any reason to be fighting. They should have just left the bar in the first place and that was exactly what Alula decided to do. She moved swiftly pass the half-elf, muttering in a strange voice.

"The glory of pride is never quite worth the cost of blood."

Once outside she felt immediately relieved. Maybe it was the fresh air or the natural light. She tugged the brim of her hat down over her eyes, waiting for the others to exit.

-Omitted-

I clenched my fists even harder preparing to strike once more at the bartender in my fit of rage. One punch, one punch was all I needed. Only then did I realize my opponent had not even broken a sweat, and he even seemed to be quite calm, as if this fight was something he had participated in many times before. In contrast both of my fists were messed up and bleeding profusely, and my own rage was clouding my actions. I quickly remembered the words of my master. "The calmest person is always the victor." I was a disgrace. After all that hard work and training I had made a stupid mistake. I had lost this fight. The grip on my hands loosened as I calmed down, turned away from the barkeeper and walked outside the tavern as the crowd inside all started to laugh at how stupid and weak I was. Or at least that's what I imagined was happening.

I would have to make it up to my group at some point for making a mess of things, if they even still wanted to be a part of my group. I hanged my head in shame. I really messed everything up.

Furnace studied the stick's scent.
"Sulphur, charcoal and saltpetre... Spell components?"

From the comfort of his seat Furnace regarded the whole scene.
From the gasps and screams of the patrons around him he guessed that the scene before him was dramatic in some way.
He didn't see it. He followed their gaze to the girls glowing eyes, to the tall figures face and to the fight that broke out between the friend collector and the barkeep.
Or at least, the barkeep was behaving as Furnace would expect him to in a fight. Saying mean things and holding a blade.
Furnace had heard a lot about battle, that is, he was always near battle. He had never actually seen a fight before, but had heard plenty from his cell. There were incantations, primal screaming and testing of swords.
The friend collector had the screaming part down.

After a whole lot of tension and threats people were leaving, and Furnace was gestured to come with.
A strange request, but this place had probably shown all it had to offer, and these people were intriguing.
He took the wrapped blade, slung it on his back and followed the others outside.
The scent of blood stuck in the air. The friend collectors hands were bleeding profusely.
Furnace felt he should point that out. So he did, he pointed at the blood dripping on to the dusty ground.
"Should you not close that? Blood is finite."

Separ continued to feel bad about the ordeal, questioning why he had acted so rash and acted against his mentor's training. Suddenly Separ was broken out of his thoughts as a small childlike gnome approached him. "Should you not close that? Blood is finite." Said the gnome. Separ looked at his hands and couldn't help but smile at the naivety and innocence of the gnome. "I wish I could, but I don't have any magic or healing tools on me. Not that I even know how to use those tools well, I'm not a doctor. You wouldn't happen to know of a doctor or someone who could heal my hands would you? Also I have to apologize for the way I acted in there. I don't normally do things like that, but for some reason his antics caused me to get extremely angry."

Separ looked down at his hands once more. That guy is really fast. I'll need to get stronger so I don't weigh down the group when I'm in a real fight against stronger opponents.

Alula listened to the bleeding man and the gnome chat for a moment. The gnome was rightfully concerned for the man's hands, were were in worse shape then when Alula decided to leave the bar. She knew she could heal, but was reluctant. Healing magic took a lot of energy, something she was severely lacking at the moment, and it was the man's own fault by taking his fists to a knife fight. And yet today she had already received such kindness, maybe it was time for her to return some.

She walked over to the two, glancing around. The three of them were out of view of the street, and if she worked fast enough before anyone left the bar she would be fine. She pulled the brim, of her hat down over her eyes, briefly remembering that it was the bleeding man who returned it to her. And then she spoke.

"I can heal your...injuries...but only on...one condition..." She slurred. "I want you both to...look away for a moment..." She paused adding in: "uh...for your own good..."

Once they both did this Alula took a deep breath and rolled up the sleeves of her robe. She took the bleeding man's hands in her hands and began to speak in a strange language.

"ava'yorn mobi sia ominak ui alula vur si tuor ekess irisv nomeno malai"

Her hands and arms began to glow, and Separ would likely feel some stinging and stretching as the skin of his hands reformed. But the pain of healing was nothing in comparison to the pain of cutting. It didn't take long, the wounds were fresh and in a concentrated area. Soon Alula was finished, releasing the man's hands and rolling her sleeves back down over her arms. She felt winded but tried to speak anyway as she tugged down her hat.

"There....you go....be more...careful."

As Alula started to heal his hands on the condition that both he and the gnome look away, Separ couldn't help but feel a bit curious though and while he wanted to look, he respected her decision. After all she was doing him a favor. The healing process hurt a little, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the pain he was feeling just moments ago. When she was done and Separ had confirmed he could look he examined his hands and threw a quick punch at the air. They were as good as new, though Separ did feel quite tired and wasn't fully healed just yet. At least the bleeding had stopped though.

Separ looked up turned towards the girl who had healed him. "Th...thank you." Realizing he hadn't asked her the question he had wanted to ask her before he quickly gave a standing bow. "I'm in your debt Miss, and I apologize for the way I acted inside the tavern. Nevertheless, our group could use a healer like you," Separ raised his head and gave a light smile. "Would you care to join us? And, is there anything I can do to repay you back for your kindness in healing me Miss..." Separ's words trailed off as he realized he had not caught her name yet.

Furnace to felt bad for the friend collector. He had assumed the ability to maintain one's own body was universal.
He thought back to all the times he was able to undo mistakes and soothe pain. The thought that there were people who
couldn't was horrifying. Furnace felt he needed to help him, that would make things better.
There was no reason he couldn't channel into someone else, right?

At that moment the girl stepped in and showed she could. Though Furnace could follow the incantation he couldn't quite make sense of it because he couldn't see the effect. Since the results seemed similar to his channelling he suspected some sort of energy channelling ability. But the incantation suggested she was calling on to someone or some thing. Was this the result of a pact? Like the friends this man collects, she has a friend who grants her magic.
Furnace wanted to confirm it was a healing ability, he looked Alula dead in the eyes, then shifted to Separ staring in the same way, with jet black eyes. He asked for his health curiously and slightly concerned.
"Do you feel better?"

The girl in the pointed hat walked away and took his scarf with her, he watched her as she went, his eyes trailing the unsure way she limped. Slowly the combined stares of the patrons hit home with a sharp ferocity, he had disgusted them with his face and that only served to make him feel worse. Vis slipped his hand into his pack and pulled out the bottle of wine and yanking the cork off with his teeth, he needed something, something to numb his feelings. He pushed the bottle to his lips and threw his head back, taking a long draw of the alcoholm, his green eye dimmed and flickered as the alcohol hit his system, depressing him but helping him nor feel their steely gazes. He drank again and with each time he threw his head back and gulped on the nectar, he felt more and more numb and the world around him became more of a blur as he grew intoxicated. He brought his mouth to the bottle for the final time, before finding out it was empty, Vis rose from the chair and slowly shuffled out, his face flushed red with the hear of alcohol. As he passed the counter, he draped the cloak he had around him over it's original owner and he shuffled out the door. Collapsing on the ground and resting his head on the tavern wall, he touched the gaping hole in the side of his face and began to sob hysterically as he remembered what he was trying to forget.

Alula was a bit shocked by his sudden invite into some sort of group. She hadn't been paying any attention while the others were speaking, and now she just felt more confused and a little sick. She wasn't sure what the man meant by group and had no idea who he was referring to when he said 'us'. She took a step back. "Uh..." She spoke slurred, hazy eyes looking from the man to the gnome. She had wished the paladin would walk out of the tavern already, he would likely have something reassuring and wise to say. Instead she just stuttered for a moment.

"A man of wisdom and strength is rare, but without check is dangerous." She spoke into the rim of her hat.

Well she was just making the situation here worse, she stuttered again. "Perhaps... if I could speak with the...paladin...or knew...more about this...group..."

And things only got more hectic as a voice spoke to her.

"The man weeps and drinks to numb a pain that will never leave."

Alula suspected the half-elf, seeing how he had just bought that pretty bottle of liquor. Perhaps he weeps for his scarf? Which Alula only now realized she was still holding onto. She should go return it. She excused herself from the gnome and man with a grunt and went to find the half-elf. It didn't take her long to find him, he was extremely emotional at the moment. She stood still for a few moments, not sure how to approach the situation. But after a few seconds of not thinking she crouched down next to him, his scarf in her outstretched hands.

"Forgive me if my hands tremble; you are the most beautiful thing I have ever known."

An argument ensued in her head.

"Pothoc malai! You cannot have her say that! Why would you do that? You know she cannot! You endanger her!"

Meanwhile Alula was looking at the half-elf with confusion, trying to make sense of what what happening in her head. She didn't recall saying anything, so why were they so upset? She pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes. "Here is your...scarf back...thank you...for letting me...wear it."

Vis looked up from his tears at the sound of muted footsteps, then a face appeared in his line of sight, the star lady was crouched in front of him and held his scarf in her hands. He looked at her for a few moments, the whites of his eyes bloodshot and tears leaving trails down his face, he calmed his breath down and smiled sadly, his scar contorting to make people cringe if they saw it. He took both of her hands and brought them to one another, "keep ith," he said, his throat soar and hoarse and sounding as if he were speaking through nails, "thare are more thcarfs outh thare." he released her hands and he pulled his knees to his chest, waiting for her to leave so he could cry some more, he had'nt cried in a long time and he found the tears relieving, in a sad way.

Furnace looked at the cloacked creature. With the scarf gone his damaged face was visible, though Furnace hadn't though anything of it before, now that he saw people's reactions to him and the state he was in, it dawned on Furnace that this new friend could also be unable to heal by himself. Maybe his appearance wasn't by his own choice. The girl called it beautiful. He agreed, the man was unique. But Furnace wanted to give him that choice. He walked over to Vis.
Vis sat there and Furnace waited patiently until he made eye contact.

He cupped his hands together and breathed slowly. With every breath some white golden light escaped between his fingers.
Bright white jolts of energy jumped between his hands from the tips of his fingers while he moved his hands further apart.

"I can repair you."

With his hands crackling with white golden energy he gestured slightly at his feet. Along the ankles and up his legs show the remains of many scars made by shackles a long, long time ago, almost completely faded.

"It takes time. But scars fade."

Before Separ could answer the gnome, he seemed to run off following the girl towards the disfigured man. Separ did feel drained of energy, but he knew that at least he wasn't bleeding anymore, and probably didn't need medical attention right this minute. It would be better if the gnome could repair the other man first. His own wounds could wait. Separ instead looked around for Carver and once he spotted him asked if he could talk to Alula and the gnome and possibly persuade them into joining the group. As far as Separ was concerned, Carver knew both of them much better than Separ, and was overall, much more likely to get them to join.

Vis looked up with glassy eyes at the gnome, he could tell there was good in his heart, natural good and not good imposed upon him. Vis shook his head sadly, "my thcar ith who I am, if I don'th haf it, then I'm noth me." Vis needed his scar, his blind eye and his ragged ear for a reason, he didn't know what, after years of traveling with them they grew a sentimental meaning to him and he wasn't sure he wanted to part with them, despite how much he hated them. It would be like putting down a stray dog that had followed you from the moment it met you, you may hate it but once it's gone you'll feel the emptiness where once was something. He shook his head again, "Buth thank you.."