CRASH

A great hole in the wall had opened. Who had made it, and who had survived it, Ealdwine had no idea at all. His legs really hurt. Maybe he had broken them. He was sure he would fall over if he stood up. So he stayed on the ground, his fingers dancing along the courses, up and down the damaged lute. Nothing else mattered.

Yes, nothing at all.

Maybe he had finally lost his mind. A man can only take so much heartbreak before he cracks. When the bard was young, he recalled, he had always admired his grandfather. A singer of songs and teller of stories. Quick of wit and jovial in countenance. Truly, the man who had inspired the Bard to be the man he became. But one day, not long after grandmother had died, he had wandered singing into the woods. No one saw him again. Alive, that was. The huntsmen found his half-rotten corpse a few weeks later, floating in a brook. Four feet in depth. He had drowned at four feet. But, a man can only take so much danger before he cracks.

Before he cracks. Before he slacks. before he wax. Afore de'facs.

Before he lax-fo-the-diddle-de-ri-de-O!

'But!' what was left of his sense, revolted, 'Danger!'

The Danger Room! There was a song to die for! Nay, a song to die to! Ealdwine transitioned effortlessly from the Dagger Dance to his new song. Without distractions, and with a most intrigued audience, he began to play the Danger Room. Its introduction was most snappy, and well-suited to the rowdy but sociable atmosphere in the Dog. He had learned it from a Dwarven trio, the same that had taught him the previous piece. Doren, Minkot, and...
What was her name?

Nil!

Ah, the body on that one. Buxom and stout, and full of energy. They had spent a few nights together, far beneath the peaks of the mountains in ancient halls of stone. Just remembering it made the Bard lovesick. Did not old Nil have a son? Was the boy his? He had always wanted to settle down and have a family. A boy, maybe a girl or two. A dog, even. Hehe, dog. Bawdy Dog. He could certainly have done worse than Nil, in any event- and as often as not he had.

But can Man and Dwarf procreate? Is that even possible?

Was he recalling any of this correctly? Was Nil even a real person?

Or is Nil a man? Maybe Minkot is the lass.

No matter! The introduction was over, and the words had now begun. Ealdwine was never a master linguist, and his Dwarvish was never any more than passable. But he knew the words to the song. He had practiced it again and again, in the Towercap Inn, and, later, in Doren's personal bedchamber. His voice rang true and loud as he played madly, his pronunciation scarce sullied by a foreign accent.

“Urem bisol udos
Nanoth okil othil,
gusil samam!
Nas-okon arol deler lam.

Akur akir akam!

Akur akir akam!”

The words translated poorly into the common tongue, but ran roughly:

“My father was a peaceful man
Never tested his weak,
copper courage!
But I'm unburdened under steel and stone.

Champions are rewarded by fortune!”

And the words ran on in likewise manner, without any regard for the lethal melee all about. There was nothing left for a bard to do but play and sing- and so he did.

Seloria

She laid within her body coiled up, white all around her, she was naked and it seemed like a slumber. After the Savager had hit her with all the attacks, the white began to turn red and her eyes opened, being pure purple light. Standing she looked around and saw a fox sitting and watching her.

"A fox and a girl, one a liar and one pure of heart, but which one was the other?" it spoke with a deep and strong females voice.

"What...?" she walked towards it but she was suddenly frozen.

"A girl and a fox, one a fool and the other a champion, but which one was the other?" it spoke again, this time smiling almost.

"What is this? Pallas needs m-"

"The question is not what is this, but who is this. This, is you. I am you..." the fox walked towards her.

"I...dont understand?" she watched the fox walk around her, stalking her like prey almost and she felt a chill down her spine.

"You wont...but you will, I will give you one more chance, but do not act like a fool, act like a champion, do not lie, be pure of heart little one, that is all to be said" it said as it sat right in front of her. It began to glow and then tails wrapped around her body and engulfed her again.

The needles that landed on her body were absorbed into the aura, as if melted almost. As the savager landed on her and made moves to stab her in the head, her 7 tails snaked around the body of the savager and grabbed his arms and legs. Slamming it into the ground, she turned and used her clawed hands, picked him up and slammed into the ground once more. It bouncing off the ground from the force that Seloria threw it down with, she used her arms and hammer punched it dead the face, not knowing that it could possible kill the thing, but with enough force that it could break anything and everything under the masked face.

Seloria jumped back and was low to the ground, waiting to react if the Savager got up from the devastating blows to the head and body.

Seeing that Pallas was still out of it, Gharlyc and Edward grabbed under her arms and dragged her behind the bar with the others.
@karamonnom@Strafe

It was then that Gharlyc noticed Busker standing up, and for a moment, Gharlyc felt a bit of joy and relief. That however was short lived. As Gharlyc was looking Busker over for lingering injuries, he noticed the eyes and lack of breathing.

"no... No nonono no no. No! Hey! Hey~ buddy, look at me. Can you hear me? Can you hear-can you see your daughter, Wink over there? What's wrong? Eh? Well, whatever it is, we'll fix it ok? We'll get you patched up and running the tavern again in no time. Just sit down here and rest up ok? Leave things to your old pal Gharly...c..."

"Busker. Where are you going?"

A quick movement from the corner of her eye snagged Fates attention, sending her whirling towards and backwards from the slicing blade. A snarl erupted from her throat, viciously feral. The scimitar hit the thick fur fluffing up her neck, the sticky goo catching and ripping whole tufts out as the white and gold clad hunk of rotting meat yanked it back. A small clatter sounded as a tiny red pendant fell to the floor, it's leather strap sliced clean through. Swiping at her arms, the creature tangled it's sword in her fur, where it stuck, no matter how hard it might pull. With one arm caught, Fate pulled her lips back in a snarl, no longer a sane beast. She swung her solo hammer round, smashing a stool or two, before lunging forward and thoughtlessly wrapping her strong jaw round it's throat, ripping away cloth and deteriorating flesh along with a handful of spine.

It took her a few seconds for the taste to sink in. Vile. Just vile. Ew. Ew. EWW!!!!! Gagging violently, her stomach rebelled, causing her to spew out a spray of rotten, saliva-slathered, hunks of stinky flesh. It was an attack that would take out any normal human, but with these godless things you could never tell.

"Hammy, it looks as though we're finally on our way."

Henri was acknowledge by a little snort from the piglet tucked into the crook of his arm. Henri nodded.

"Mmm... Yes, I think so, but she said that if I didn't take you with me then she was going to turn you into bacon. You are much too small for that so you might as well just come back with me. I could turn you into a mecha-pig, I have done it before, it was a roaring success!"

The little pig just snorted again. Henri scratched his head and let out a deep, thunderous yawn. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black stick and popped one end into his mouth. He reached back into his pocket and pulled out a small hand sized blowtorch. Clicking a trigger several times apparently didn't provide the appropriate reaction, the Doctor shook the small device roughly in the air above his head. He brought it back down and clicked the little trigger again. Suddenly a large burst of flame appeared, much to big for it's intended job. Henri leant forward, poking the stick into the enormous flame. Drawing oxygen through it produced smoke to fill his lungs. He released the trigger so that the flame died and then placed the blowtorch into his pocket. He carried on down the pathway not stopping until he reached THE BAWDY DOG.

"Let's go in, Hammy."

Dr. Vickers wasn't sure of what to make of the scene inside, apparently some sort of ruckus was going on. Deciding not to worry too much, he skirted around the room, along the walls, only occasionally asking someone to move out of the way.

"Excuse me. Pardon me, miss. Ah, no sir, this is my pig, you cannot play with him."

He made his way to where he could get a drink.

"One Ale and one slop for my friend, thank you."

As he waited he observed the room.

Dirion felt a hand around his neck and the next second he was yanked further towards Wink. Behind him he heard a thud and a crash, he turned to see a large bottle of Busker's brew shattered all over the floor. That certainly would have hurt.

"What's happening." Wink asked peeking over the top of the bar.

Dirion not quite so daring anymore kept his head hidden and replied with a feigned humor in his voice. "I think I'm about to swear off drinking." He had no clue what had started all of this. Well... He had a feeling it may have been his fault. Even though Dirion was no friend of Busker he felt sick at the thought of killing him. Especially at the idea of taking him from Wink now that he saw her fear. And who even knew who was hurt in the fighting behind him.

"What was that stuff the dwarf gave him?" She sounded upset, well, more than she already had.

Dirion looked down to Wink. He was just now aware that she was still holding onto him. Normally he probably would've made some inappropriate joke at the situation. But the fact the she was probably scared past wit's end and her father had almost died, plus in the light of.. slightly less recent events, he kept his tongue under leash. He replied back, "I- I don't. Some sort of... potion? He said it would heal him.

Dirion closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He needed to calm his nerves, a drink usually did that but he really didn't feel like a pint right now. So he slowly exhaled and pretended he was somewhere calm for just a second. Maybe back with Brigen, telling her jokes and making her laugh.

Right as the last bit of air left his lungs Dirion heard Wink say, "Dad?" He opened his eyes to see Busker still lying on the floor, but something seemed off.

Wink started panicking and shaking Busker about, speaking in repressed sobs, "Daad? Dad? Dad, breathe!"

Panic ran up Dirion's spine when he realized what was wrong. He quickly leaned forward and started to put a hand over Busker's heart when the barkeep's eyes shot open. Where once sat a pair of deceitful eyes now was nothing but a grim fog. Dirion brought his hand back to his side and held back a breath. Busker slowly sat up in a strange way, Dirion didn't know how to describe it. It just seemed.. slowly and empty.

Dirion saw Wink move up from behind him and reach out her arm. She spoke carefully, "Dad, come on, we have to get out of here." Which was quite the good idea. No one behind this bar was fit for fighting.

Busker stood up all of a sudden, Dirion not sure what to think, sat still and watched him just.. stand there. The Dwarf man came running back around the bar with some girl in his arms with the help of... Oh hell. The man he he attacked. Dirion turned his head away from the noble and looked down towards the ground hoping he didn't notice him. Another reason to go sober.

The young woman was deposited to Dirion's left. The short man then walked up to Busker and spoke more than Dirion could keep up with.

"no... No nonono no no. No! Hey! Hey~ buddy, look at me. Can you hear me? Can you hear-can you see your daughter, Wink over there? What's wrong? Eh? Well, whatever it is, we'll fix it ok? We'll get you patched up and running the tavern again in no time. Just sit down here and rest up ok? Leave things to your old pal Gharly...c..."

"Busker. Where are you going?"

Dirion his hand on Wink's shoulder and whispered to her, "Stay down" He stood up from the glass covered floor and began to inspect the man. He was paler than Dirion had ever seen him, and there was that same dead, grey fog in his eyes. Normally Busker had some sort of expression on his face, whether it was a scowl at some argument or a grin at the idea of profit, but now the muscles in his face just sat slack, emotionless.

Dirion turned to the Dwarf and spoke coldly, "What was in that bottle?"

@Mokley @Tricheus @karamonnom @strafe

There was nothing left for a bard to do but play and sing- and so he did.

The needles that landed on her body were absorbed into the aura, as if melted almost. As the savager landed on her and made moves to stab her in the head, her 7 tails snaked around the body of the savager and grabbed his arms and legs. Slamming it into the ground, she turned and used her clawed hands, picked him up and slammed into the ground once more. It bouncing off the ground from the force that Seloria threw it down with, she used her arms and hammer punched it dead the face, not knowing that it could possible kill the thing, but with enough force that it could break anything and everything under the masked face.

Seloria jumped back and was low to the ground, waiting to react if the Savager got up from the devastating blows to the head and body.

While Ealdwine's music filled the room, violet brightness burst throughout the tavern, and the Salvager's limp body was flung and crashed and crushed by whipping energy.

All around the tavern, the walls shook and the beams cracked. Everything left standing toppled over; the floor was a mess of sticky foam and shards of wood; The mounted troll's head had fallen into the hearth, burning and scattering fiery wood pieces; the air was filled with smoke and dust and a potent stench of burning flesh, rotten intestines, spilled beer and vomit.

The Salvager lay twitching in a puddle of ale on the floor. Its mask had been crushed like an egg, and dark foul goop seeped out from beneath it. The Salvager's ale-soaked fingers scrabbled against the floor, and its legs shifted and feet spasmed every few moments like a crushed spider, but it would not stand up again.

She swung her solo hammer round, smashing a stool or two, before lunging forward and thoughtlessly wrapping her strong jaw round it's throat, ripping away cloth and deteriorating flesh along with a handful of spine.

It took her a few seconds for the taste to sink in. Vile. Just vile. Ew. Ew. EWW!!!!! Gagging violently, her stomach rebelled, causing her to spew out a spray of rotten, saliva-slathered, hunks of stinky flesh.

The Scimitar Salvager rocked on its feet, unsteady and dripping dark rotten slime from the gaping muzzle-shaped hole in its neck. Its faceless masked head, with nothing left to support it, flopped and twisted grotesquely behind its shoulder. And yet it did not fall.

The Salvager raised the scimitar and slashed mechanically at the gagging werewolf, but the blade was only caught in the thick fur. Its fingers flexed and shuddered, and it wavered uselessly while black goop soaked its once-pristine robes.

It dropped Milo to the floor with a thump. Soon afterward, the Salvager collapsed in a heap at the base of the smoking hearth; its scimitar clattered to the floor. Even afterward, the Salvager's wrecked body continued to shift and struggle and gurgle in a puddle of ale and its own rotten flesh.

The Scimitar Salvager Has Been Decommissioned

Dirion his hand on Wink's shoulder and whispered to her, "Stay down" He stood up from the glass covered floor and began to inspect the man. He was paler than Dirion had ever seen him, and there was that same dead, grey fog in his eyes. Normally Busker had some sort of expression on his face, whether it was a scowl at some argument or a grin at the idea of profit, but now the muscles in his face just sat slack, emotionless.

Dr. Vickers wasn't sure of what to make of the scene inside, apparently some sort of ruckus was going on. Deciding not to worry too much, he skirted around the room, along the walls, only occasionally asking someone to move out of the way.

"Excuse me. Pardon me, miss. Ah, no sir, this is my pig, you cannot play with him."

He made his way to where he could get a drink.

"One Ale and one slop for my friend, thank you."

"no... No nonono no no. No! Hey! Hey~ buddy, look at me. Can you hear me? Can you hear-can you see your daughter, Wink over there? What's wrong? Eh? Well, whatever it is, we'll fix it ok? We'll get you patched up and running the tavern again in no time. Just sit down here and rest up ok? Leave things to your old pal Gharly...c..."

"Busker. Where are you going?"

It was quite the scene that Henri had walked into.

A seven-foot werewolf stood heaving and gagging by the hearth, next to the twitching, rotten remains of two white-robed figures and the small mummy-wrapped form of a child.

The walls were vibrating and the air was swirling around the glowing violet energy of a many-tailed fox, which stood over another crushed rotten corpse.

There was a gaping hole in the wall beside the bar, letting in the cool night air; the wall was beginning to buckle, and the beams in the ceiling were creaking with strain.

Several foreign objects had fallen into the hearth and were letting off thick black smoke; burning pieces of wood were scattered on the floor and surrounding splintered tables and chairs. Not a single piece of furniture was left unbroken.

The entire room reeked of rotten meat, burning flesh, sick and vinegar and spilled putrid ale, and a romping song was played and sung by the bard sitting injured on the sticky floor.

But the doctor and his pig managed to find the only stool left standing at the bar, and with a pleasant voice raised over Ealdwine's song, requested the attention of the barkeep.

Busker shifted on his feet. His eyes were gray and dead, and his clothes and the side of his face were soaked and shining with blood. With shuffling feet, the owner of the Bawdy Dog walked along behind the bar, stepping over Pallas and Edward. With a pale hand, Busker grabbed a tankard from the bar, the same one that Dirion had been drinking from previously before Edward's weapon had shot holes into it. Mechanically, he filled the tankard at the ale barrel and set it down with a wet splash in front of Henri. The ale leaked quickly out of the tankard and pooled on the bar.

Busker stood quietly staring into nothingness, the blood drying on his clothes.

Wink, meanwhile, took in a shaking breath and stood, holding onto Dirion for support. She, too, was covered in ale and her father's blood; the breeze from the hole in the wall dried the tears on her face, and she was no longer crying.

Although, as he pouted at his misfortune, the heat from his filthy palm was allowed to coax the tiny residue from the bottle's sides and a single drop was able to form in the bottom rim. Immediately, his attention was back on the bar and so was a new grin--a wicked, toothy, and crooked grin full of elation with a dangerous game playing in his mind. Without another thought, the insane demon threw the bottle into his mouth and shattered the thing in one mighty chomp--the bitter sting of the potion and blood exciting his tongue and body.

Goodbye, Jargo the Luck Demon and, hello, Jargo the Flesh Eater.

The elixir -- at such a low dosage to someone who was not at all on the brink of death -- had a very different effect on Jargo than it had on Busker and Milo.

The Luck Demon's eyes turned a shade of gray, and his bloody mouth stretched into a red wolfish grin. Whatever humanity had been in him before was gone, replaced with something altogether dangerous and wicked.

Jargo -- or, rather, the thing that had once been Jargo -- sprang off the table and launched off the bar with an animal hiss and wide-jawed breath. He dashed out of the hole in the wall and into the night, off to track down his new master.

An Eerie Quiet Returns to the Bawdy Dog

Gharlyc immediately heard the tone in Dirion's voice and gave him a cold hard stare. Gharlyc's voice dropped dropped in volume and became very smooth and eerily calm.
"Stranger. It's no excuse now, but I thought it was a healing potion. I saw the siren drink it and heal from her wounds. My only thought at the time was to save Busker's life. Now, who knows what horrible fate I have cursed my best and only friend with. So, maybe instead of pointing fingers, you can be useful and help me think if there is a possible cure for this affliction. Can your addled brain handle that hm?"
@NorthernGR

Turning over to Wink, Gharlyc's hard expression softened a little bit, but not by much.
"Wink, I'm sorry this happened. I know you don't like me, but I love Busker like a brother. I would never purposefully do this to him. You probably won't take much stock in my words, but I promise you, I will not rest until I have found a cure for your father"

Turning and noticing Vickers ordering a drink, Gharlyc addressed him.
"You, stranger with the pig(?!). Things are very dangerous in this bar right now. It may not be the best time for a leisurely drink. If you look, we have injured and people who are cursed with who knows what. For your own safely either hide back here with the rest of us or see if you can leave out the back."
@Captain Bravo

"Stranger. It's no excuse now, but I thought it was a healing potion. I saw the siren drink it and heal her wounds. My only thought at the time was to save Busker's life. Now, who knows what horrible fate I have cursed my best and only friend with. So, maybe instead of pointing fingers, you can be useful and help me think if there is a possible cure for this affliction. Can your addled brain handle that hm?"

Oh, the little man had the gall to get snippy with Dirion. When it was the man that had poisoned poor Busker, not Dirion. Addled brain eh? Dirion would love to addle that little Dwarfs brain right about now. Dirion clutched his hands into fists and contemplated the benefits of toppling the man. He doubted he would be able to do much to harm him, what with the height advantage.

But no, instead Dirion just spoke through a tight frown, "Very well."

The dwarf then spoke to Wink but Dirion did not bother to listen. Though he saw the man sitting at the bar his attention instead was taken up by the scene before him. He had turned around to look at the damage and- well it was bad.

The fire in the hearth was roaring, and it had managed to light some of the surrounding debris alight also. No matter how hard he looked Dirion could not find one intact piece of Busker's cheep splintery furniture. All around were spilled tankards, pouring out watery ale all over the cracked floor. There was even one shattered bottle a few feet away from the bar that was leaking a pink liquid. Wine? Dirion hadn't known Busker to serve it.

There was a hole in the wall. An actual hole in the wall. Through it he could see the rays of the moon shining through, and Dirion questioned how long he had been in the bar. It had been light when he came in. The rest of the the building that wasn't riddled with holes was shaking far more than it should.

He saw what used to be Fate, at least he was pretty sure that was Fate. Last he had seen her she was a deformed, hairy, howling monster that was about to cave his head in with some hammers. It would probably make sense that she was a werewolf. She was gagging and snarling at the moment. Whatever it took to keep her distracted. Dirion hoped that she would calm down soon.

And then his eyes landed on something nearly indescribable. It was more than likely magic, most things of said indescribably were usually magic. It was a large form, a violet aura. Dirion just now realized that all the air seemed to be drawn to it. Smoke from the fire had also started to swirl around the form. He breathed, and felt it was slightly harder to do so than it should be. Faintly he thought he could see some sort of human body within it.

Now that Dirion was paying attention to his senses he suddenly smelt, well, everything. The smell of rotting flesh, of wet fur, of bile and spilled ale, smoke from the fire. All being nicely circulated by the shifting of air from the aura.

Then came the song. A strong beat accompanied by a foreign language Dirion had never learned. Startled and unsure if he was hearing the chant of some dark magic his eyes moved at twice the speed to scan the crumbling bar. A corpse, another corpse, a corpse with it's head cut off, a corpse with a lute- wait. It was the bard. The real bard. And he was playing? At a time like this!

All of this? How? A few hours ago Dirion had walked into this bar and everything was fine. Now people were dying or dead, the entire building was falling around their ears, a girl's father was dead... And as far as Dirion could tell it may be his fault. It was just a knife! How does a knife turn into a bar fight of this proportion?! Dirion felt like he may throw up.

He leaned on the bar and rested his head in his hands. The strumming of the bard, the rumbling of the building, the crackling of the fire eating up Wink's possessions, Fate snarling and growling to herself. It overwhelmed Dirion. He felt a fiery anger light in his chest. He grabbed the edge of the bar and tried to exert his anger into the cheap wood. But after a few seconds of trying Dirion gave up and jerked his hands back. He looked out unto the rest of the tavern and yelled at anyone that would listen, "Quiet!"

"Someone put out that fire and help get the injured out of here! This place is going to fall on us, and we are going to die!!

@Tricheus @Mokley @Illogical Jim @Captain Bravo @SilverWolfAngel

………………………… blargh, blergh, gahhhhhhh She could not think, not see, just taste, taste the vile, sickening, sickening flesh.

The Scavenger could have lopped off her arms, legs and tail, and she wouldn't have noticed, let alone cared. Anything, anything to get rid of the stench and taste. She was covered in it, her muzzle caked three inches thick. She couldn't hold it anymore, her eye flickered between violent yellow and tranquil aqua, her beast side seizing control and letting it slip through it's claws. Spitting, Fate finally yanked the driving reins back, her eyes settling as blue. Focusing she kicked her beast side out, ripping the scimitar out of her fur with a growl. Having glanced round at the shambles that was once the tavern, she carefully crouched down, letting go of her hammers she reached a single claw out, slicing though the wrappings around the girl lying on the ground.

"Quiet! Someone put out that fire and help get the injured out of here! This place is going to fall on us, and we are going to die!!

Fire? What? ………Holy crap! She snarled, noting the fire licking up to her feet. …Really? How had she missed that?

Grabbing Milo she flipped her up on one shoulder, snagging both hammers with her other paw and kicking the mangled body into the fire. There was no stopping it anyway, no matter what that drunkard said, once a fire got that big, it was going to consume everything it could, without pity. It would take more than the people here to quench it, might as well get rid of some trash while it was at it. Flicking the second body in alongside the first Fate spun away from the blaze, working her way around the edge of the room to the bar, avoiding the purple swirling mass in the middle. Pausing in front of Diron, she carefully spilled out coarse badly pronounced words, "Shhooo…… whsaathsss…… nknaaaaeeeesss ………ooooinnnnngg?" (So what needs doing?)
@NorthernGR@BlackCat

Pallas began to stir, her body had healed significantly thanks to Seloria. She woke up to see the tavern had gone through a lot. She pulled herself up and looked around. She had expected her body to ache everywhere, but to her surprise, she felt perfectly fine, better than fine actually. Though she was unsure what was going on or what she had missed while she was passed out. But she did know that Seloria had saved her, as well as Edward and another kind stranger that she must express her gratitude for. Taking Gharlyc's hands, she said to him, "Thank you so much for taking me to shelter when I was unable to." And then she turned to Edward and pulled him into a hug. "I'm glad we both survived that."

She quickly stepped back and began to search for Seloria, her old friend. Scavenging through the rummages, she called out for her, "Seloria? Seloria?"

@Strafe @Tricheus @AgentFallenSoul

"Wink, I'm sorry this happened. I know you don't like me, but I love Busker like a brother. I would never purposefully do this to him. You probably won't take much stock in my words, but I promise you, I will not rest until I have found a cure for your father"

Wink's expression shifted from something like hate to something like resignation, and everything in-between. A part of her wished her father had simply died of his injury. This fate that had been so negligently forced upon him was so much worse than death. She looked almost worse than Busker did -- covered in blood and soot and beer and wood dust, her hair in flyaway scraggles. She stared at Gharlyc with an unreadable glare. She in no way believed there was a cure, except to cut off her father's head and burn the body, but she wasn't about to stop the dwarf from doing what he wished.

"Someone put out that fire and help get the injured out of here! This place is going to fall on us, and we are going to die!!"

Grabbing Milo she flipped her up on one shoulder, snagging both hammers with her other paw and kicking the mangled body into the fire. Flicking the second body in alongside the first Fate spun away from the blaze, working her way around the edge of the room to the bar.

She turned to Edward and pulled him into a hug. "I'm glad we both survived that." She quickly stepped back and began to search for Seloria, her old friend. Scavenging through the rummages, she called out for her, "Seloria? Seloria?"

As the two Salvager corpses burned, the growing inferno roared and popped and turned sick bruised shades of green and yellow. Billows of black smoke filled the room with thick ash and an overpowering, nauseating stench.

Fire snaked up the weakened walls. The beams in the ceiling snapped and cracked audibly; dust and bits of wood and a few loosened nails rained down on their heads as the whole building creaked and groaned all around them. Soon, there was nothing to see but fiery glowing smoke and dust.

Wink covered her nose and mouth with both hands as toxic smoke scraped her throat and burned in her lungs; she grabbed the bar, gagging and trembling; she could no longer see Gharlyc -- or anything at all -- through the thick billowing smoke. Wink dropped to her hands and knees and crawled along the beer-sticky floor, desperately trying not to vomit at the stench that permeated the room, praying to whatever gods would listen that the fire wasn't coming closer.

The wall with the hole in it finally buckled, but the smoke was too thick to see what was happening. There was a great cracking and crashing above; the fire surged brightly; the smoke swirled; everywhere there was the sound of coughing and stumbling and cracking and splintering. Wink blindly groped her way along the floor, tears streaming from her burning eyes -- and then, just as she began to lose consciousness, she felt herself being lifted up.

Busker laid Wink in the grass outside, then trundled back into the collapsing, burning tavern. Busker -- blind and no longer breathing -- stepped through the debris and stopped beside Pallas. He bent down, wrapped a strong arm around her waist, and carried her through the thick smoke and raining dust; at the same time he dragged Edward behind him by the arm. He took them both through the door and into the open air where he deposited them in the grass beside Wink, who was blackened with soot and coughing raggedly on the ground.

In another five seconds, the roof cracked and crumbled; the Bawdy Dog Tavern collapsed into a burning, smoking heap of splintered wood. The flames soon engulfed it all and blazed brightly throughout the wreckage.

Down the night-dark road, people were screaming. A fiery flickering glow reflected on the trees that separated the tavern from the town.

The entire town was on fire.

There were more Salvagers. Many more. They had swarmed the town, sacked everything dangerous or valuable, and killed every living soul.

Corpses littered the street. They also walked, bloody and broken, toward the tavern.

Around the side of the burning tavern, horses screeched and whinnied in the stable.

There was an empty cart sitting near the road.

A dozen walking corpses -- once familiar faces of the town -- crowded on the road in front of the tavern, their staring eyes vacant and their bloody mouths gaping. In less than a minute they would descend upon those who had escaped the Bawdy Dog.

On the opposite end of the road -- at the top of a hill, silhouetted by the setting moon -- stood Jargo. His sharp grin flashed white, and he scampered off into the wilderness.

"Bloody 'ell," Pelgrum muttered, as his former wife fell backwards with the fire poker jammed in her eye. "That was a bit unexpected."

He'd been awake for around five minutes, having slept through the day with a heavy cloud of wine overhanging his senses. His wife had been the one to stir him from his sleep, but as he opened his eyes, he saw that half of her face was missing. Pelgrum never liked her much as she was a nagging wench on her best day, and as she tried to chomp his face, he finally lived out a fantasy he'd been hiding for years: he killed her!

Now, standing over her lifeless corpse, breathing heavy and perspiring, Pelgrum decided it was time to find out what on earth was happening. People were screaming outside of his rather snug stone-build "manor" (a small house with a sign outside it, prescribing it as a manor, in anycase), fire light was blaring through the windows, and somewhere amidst the crackle of flame, he heard some ungodly noises.

He moved over to a window at the front of the house, pulled back the curtain, allowed his eyes to go so wide that they almost fell from his head, and promptly took a step back. His next port of call was the liqueur cabinet, where he indulged in a neat bottle of Eastern Brandy for a good few minutes before retiring to the back room.

The back room, as Pelgrum called it, was more a museum or a rich man's show boating establishment. Precious artefacts, signed historical documents, gemstones - all the like - were neatly encased in glass cabinets. Pelgrum wasn't interested in monetary worth today though, he was more interested in surviving the next couple of hours. The brandy taking over his brain told him that whatever was going on outside, needed a bigger than life solution.

He approached a mound covered by a dusty table cloth, and appraised it with a nodding grin. Quickly, he pulled back the cover, revealing his pride possession: Teardrinker, the Destroyer of Orphanages, and a mighty damn fine catapult. Ideally two man-operated, but made from solid oak and encased in durasteel. Its mechanism was of Elven design, and the whole thing was easy to move thanks to its pedal-propulsion device. Two hard wooden seats were located at the weapon's rear either side of the bucket.

Steering it and loading it was another matter, but he'd deal with that when the time came.

"Yup," Pelgrum said, with a burp. "This oughta do it."

Rucks had just returned from one of his forays into some far off ruins, he was actually having a pleasant day, despite not managing to find anything. As he coiled around trails and over hills he eventually saw a pillar of smoke coming from the direction of the town. He hoped it was nothing terribly large. As he neared the tavern where he usually stopped by for a drink he found out that this was not the case at all. Plumes of the dark smoke were billowing out of the building.

Rucks stood there, head tilted to one side as he watched the events, the barman - Busker - was carrying people out of the flames. At least Rucks THOUGHT it was Busker, he was too far away to be certain, but there was something slightly off about him, as he finally neared the building, only one thought crossed his mind, "Where in hell am I going to get my drinks now?".

He wasn't particularly bothered about the actual town being on fire, he rarely stayed in his apartment anyway and he was smart enough to keep the knowledge he has amassed somewhere else, in a semi-secret cave that he decided to dig out for them.

But no seriously, where was he going to get his drinks now?

Dirion was standing bewildered at the sight of Fate's speedy transformation. Well he was, now he couldn't see much of anything. Sickening smoke had descended upon him and the bar before he could react. Perhaps the funnel of air caused by the purple magic? Who knows. Letting out a hard gasp and cough Dirion covered his mouth and nose in the crook of his arm. When Dirion ceased coughing for a moment he heard the gags of the other patrons. One caught his ears more than the other's, a more feminine one. If he stopped to think for a moment he would remember that there was more than one woman in the bar. But, the first conclusion he jumped to was the lady he heard was Wink. And banish him to the darkest depths of hell if she died too from this mess.

Dirion tried to yell through the smoke, "Wink!" Though the words died halfway through his mouth at the hands of another vicious cough.

He ducked down to the floor to try and escape the smoke. His eyes were stinging and watering, but Dirion tried to look for Wink through his blurred vision. He couldn't take anymore of the smoke though and had to close his eyes tight. He then started searching frantically with his hand for anyone, anything. He wasn't sure where he was. He had been crawling for a bit and felt lost. His hand felt the touch of skin and grabbed on. He realized that the person was moving and stood up to a crouch and followed, still blind from the smoke.

Dirion felt like he may pass out soon, his lungs ached and hurt and all he could smell was the putrid concoction of smoke. As he started to grow weaker he gave a deep breath and felt fresh air flood his lungs. He savored the breath for as long as he could and opened his eyes. He looked to see the savior he had to thank was- Busker. The Barkeep's skin felt cold and grim. Dirion pulled his arm away from the man quickly and averted his eyes to the woman. To his relief it was Wink.

Dirion sat down in the grass next to Wink and spoke in the middle of a cough, "Wink? Are you okay?" He put his hand on her arm to.. Try and calm her he guessed? Dirion didn't know what to do.

Dirion looked out across the horizon and saw the world on fire. Weeell, that's probably a bit dramatic. But you get the picture. Now that he was breathing and heard something besides the crashing of the Bawdy Dog, which had just collapsed behind him, Dirion heard the far off screams coming from town. What could it be now?

Dirion could see people walking towards him. It was too dark to see who they were but Dirion felt unsettled at the sight of them. They were slow, slower than a snail's pace, and when the world is burning to the sound of screaming anyone that simply walks away should worry you. Either these people were the barbarians that burned down the village, or it was something else, something darker.

Dirion scrambled up as fast as he could from the ash covered grass, though at this point he had used all his energy. He looked around and noticed the more people had gotten out. Another young girl and the noble boy. Dirion felt a glimmer of hope to see that people had made it out, but then he heard Busker's horses whinnying in panic and felt the dread find it's way back into his heart.

They had injured, plus the slow moving Busker. And though he didn't know how Wink felt he was loathe to leave the man in this state. Dirion knotted his hands in his hair and looked around for any answer to their desperate situation. He saw none. He had a sword. He could fight if he needed to, probably wouldn't last long due to the spirits still in his system. But it would give everyone else a chance to get away. Perhaps Busker could help, and maybe the dwarf. Busker still seemed to care for Wink, in a grim way. And the short man seemed like he wanted to prove himself to Wink. That would certainly be one way to do it.

Right before his heart resigned to his death Dirion spotted the cart, their salvation the gods willing. His heart did a skip for joy when he saw it, he knew what they could do.

He yelled to everyone, "We need to get moving! We're still in danger!

He then turned to Wink, the young girl, and the noble. He asked them as gently as he could while his heart was pounding. Though they would certainly hear the panic in his voice. "If you are well please get the horses reigned and ready for a quick cart ride. He then gestured towards their getaway vehicle. Coughing the last of the smoke from his lungs quickly he continued, "I would do it but a- a drunk like me won't be still enough to do it." He finished with a sad smile. He meant for it to be small bit of humor, though he wasn't very convincing.

He was right though, there was no way he would get it done fast enough. But pulling the cart though? That was just pure strength, and with the adrenaline pumping through his body he felt like he could take on anything. Well, besides the advancing group of.. whatever they are.

He ran to the cart and grabbed it like a life-preserver. With a pause he thought that there could be more people buried inside. But he did his best to banish the thought and bury the guilt. Wink and Busker were his priority. He got back to work, and as he started pulling it towards the road he could feel the splinters shooting into his hands. Of course bloody Busker would cheap out on even his transportation.

"Everyone else pull the cart onto the road!"

@Mokley @karamonnom

Pallas was still searching for Seloria when all of a sudden she was being carried by Busker out of the tavern. She was about to argue or say something about how she couldn't leave Seloria behind when the tavern fell apart. Her eyes began to water out of sorrow and relief. She was relieved that Busker had saved her life, but she was heartbroken because she was unsure that her beloved teacher would survive such a horrific disaster.

She didn't have time to dwell on that for too long though. There were bigger, more important things to worry about. Salvagers were everywhere and it seemed like there wasn't an end to their numbers. Where were they even coming from?

Pallas was a bit distracted by the chaos but Dirion caught her attention and she obediently began to reign in the horses. It was something she was used to doing, and she got along fairly well with horses. The only difficulty in the task was the restlessness of the horses. The poor creatures were frighten by everything that was going on and it was hard for Pallas to calm them down. Eventually, she managed to calm them down long enough to reign them in and attach them to the cart as soon as they managed to pull it onto the road.

Unsure of what to do now, she waited as Dirion seemed to be taking charge of the situation at the moment. If they needed to slice up some Salvagers, she was ready to do so with her sword.

Seloria felt the place crash onto her after the scavenger had been killed and she lay pinned in the burning abyss.

"Wake up little one..." a voice was found almost like it seemed in front of her. "You cannot die now, I need you to get yourself out of this..." the voice came again, now behind her. "I will help you, but you first need to heed my warning, there will be a point in which you will have to make choices you will not like, but they will need to be done, you will need to be ready to kill once more..." a shiver went down her body and she roared in response "You will say no now...but how long I wonder..." the presence seemed to fade and suddenly the beam over top of her was lifted slightly enough for her to move from under and look around at the blazing ruins. Using her tails, she pushed herself into the air and looked around at the suddenly burning town and zombie like people occupying it as well as Savengers, way to many at that.

Landing in front of the ruined blaze, she felt a sudden drain in her power and she fell to her knees. Her normal human appearance returned and she found her eye patch and blade had returned, as well as her bandages. Moving fast towards the group now leaving, she found Pallas quickly and embraced her "Pallas!" pulling her back, she smiled and patted her head before letting go "Looks like your father was right about the seal, you aren't dying on me yet, remember, you bury me before I bury you" she flicked in the forehead "And think before you attack, making my teachings look bad..." she joked and hugged her again before turning and waiting to hear what was even going on.

@karamonnom

The screams had stopped. The only sound was the roar of the flames.

The dead townspeople paused at the edge of the trees, the fire glowing behind their gashed silhouettes. There was the baker woman who supplied Busker with fresh pastries -- there was the merchant who often told stories by the hearth -- there was the old fisherman with four sons and three daughters, beloved by the town, now standing bloody and hollow in a haze of night and dark smoke.

They stood still. Waiting.

The horses allowed themselves to be calmed and hitched by Pallas, and while she and Dirion clambered into the rickety cart, something moved in the rubble.

Edward stood calm among the wreckage -- covered in blood, one eye gouged out. He raised his hand-cannon, pointed directly at Seloria.

"You have a beautiful power." The voice that came out of Edward's mouth sounded like Jargo's voice, lilting and taunting and tainted with darkness. "You will give it to me. Or my puppets will devour you."

High above them, Jargo stood atop a tree, grinning in the darkness, watching. He had discovered a new power: the power to control the dead. Edward was simply his newest puppet.

Edward suddenly smiled -- a mad, fangy, murderous smile.

BOOM

The recoil of the hand-cannon sent Edward staggering back. Blood gushed down Seloria's leg, where a shot pellet was buried deep in the bone.

The sound of the shot spooked the horses; they bolted, careening down the road with the cart, and Dirion, Pallas, Busker and Wink with it.

The horses galloped straight for Rucks, the cart and its passengers bouncing and thrashing.

"I will have your power!" Jargo's voice crowed through Edward's dead, laughing mouth.

Jargo himself dropped to the ground and silently approached Seloria from behind, his eyes crazed and hungry.

@SyrianHamster@Oni_@NorthernGR@karamonnom@AgentFallenSoul