The Apothecary Shop

Sister Agnes didn’t know what to think of the newest editions to the group but she figured she needed to show them over to where Sana had headed, the marksman seemed to be the one taking the lead in this. Turning to Wylsen she gathered up the items that the group had left or had not gathered as of yet and turned to make her way towards the door. Looking over towards Vaeri she smiled softly. “Of course, I can show you all the way over there,” she said in a kind voice before she continued, thankful to Hanzo for holding the door open for her.

“You too,” the nun added as she looked over towards Lob. “This way,” she motioned as she walked out of the shop and made her way towards the tavern. Stopping as she noticed Mortosh she called out to him. “The rest of the group is in the inn. We are headed that way if you wish to follow,” she said in a kind voice before continuing on her way. Eventually they made their way to the inn and Agnes pushed her way inside. Glancing around she spotted Sana and the majority of the rest of the group and walked over, setting the rest of the bottles and vials down next to the table. “Seems there are a few more,” she said softly.

The Inn

Sana glanced over towards Melvis as he introduced himself and sat down as she took a bite of food from her fork and nodded over to him. “Sana and that’s Hugh,” she said as she pointed with her fork before taking another bite. Looking up at Hugh as he tried to get the barmaid attention she had to chuckle, the man never seemed to remember how large and imposing he could be due to his size but she found his actions endearing. He was interesting and never dull that was for sure. She had seen him nearly rip the jaw off a gnoll by stuffing a bedroll in its mouth and bash a wraith into dust and yet here he was waiving rather frantically to get the barmaids attention just so the others could get some food. Reaching out with her free hand she rested it on his waist as the girl took notice of him and the barmaid swallowed nervously. “I think she sees you,” she said with a chuckle before taking another bite of food.

The barmaid came over quickly and eyed the rather eclectic group for a moment before clearing her throat. “Okay, what’ll ya’ll have?” she asked as she stood there waiting to take their orders for breakfast. As she was standing there Tobias came over and introduced himself, Sana leaned back in her seat and wiped her mouth with her napkin before looking over to Hugh.

“I wonder if he is fast enough to outrun my arrow,” she said as a smirk played on her lips as she glanced over towards Tobias out of the corner of her eye before chuckling softly and waiving off her own comment. “Just messing,” she said as she sat there. It was about that time Drizzak came bounding in the door and Sana reached over and took Hughs hand squeezing it softly. “That one,” she said as she motioned over to the one they had met in the oasis long ago. “Yeah, I think that one needs food as well,” Sana said looking over at the barmaid and motioning towards Drizzak with her fork. The barmaid nodded slowly before looking over at Hugh and then Sana.

“This whole group with you two?” she asked.

“Yeah but not on our tab if that is what you are asking. Well, Drizzak is. I owe him a meal,” she said as she told the barmaid to make sure to put Drizzaks food on her and Hughs tab. He had helped save her life at one point and lost a rather nice dagger in the process, she at least owed him a meal. The barmaid nodded and waited for each person to place an order as the host brought over something to drink for Tobias. Sana perked a brow as she watched Sister Agnes enter but nodded slightly to her words. “Seems that way. Anything else sister?” she asked before taking another sip of her coffee.

“Just good luck,” the nun said before biding everyone good bye and making her way out of the inn and back towards the apothecary shop just in case someone else showed up. Sana nodded as she went back to eating. She knew they would need to get going soon enough but the last great adventure she had been on the group had made a huge mistake with not eating and setting out in the middle of the night. It was one that she was determined not to make again and wanted to ensure that all that needed to eat had a full belly and with it being early in the day it was much better to set out before night fell once again.

At least the group all seemed to be in the same place now so that was at least a good start and they seemed to have a well-rounded source of abilities. Now the only thing she worried about was the personalities. Would they end up playing well off each other or would they end up having the same problem they had run into in the past where people had a tendency to fight more with each other than against the creatures they need to pay attention to. Only time would tell.

"Thank you, sis-" Vaeri was in the middle of saying when she was interrupted by a giant, green oaf declaring that Drizzak was 'little me.' She had to stare at this man for a few seconds uncomprehendingly before she regained her composure. Apparently he was there to help out with the quest. Well, he certainly looked like he could handle himself in a fight. This was certainly growing to to be quite some group. Maybe they had gotten big to move around as a group effectively. Perhaps as two groups they could even gather the ingredients even quicker than they would be otherwise. But then again, she did not know the capabilities of the other people in the party, so for now her idea would remain simple musing.

"Thank you for your assistance, Sister." Vaeri finally got around to saying once they got to the inn. The elf walked over to the main table where most of the rest of the party seemed to congregate around and rubbed some of the tired out of her eyes. She wouldn't talk since it seemed that they were already in the middle of a conversation. For now she would just listen.

Zam who had proceeded to faint despite they where in the open now so with her out cold Mortosh Grabbed her and proceeded to find a table where he sat Zam down. he then unhooked a jar that hung on one of his ribs it was filled with different flowers that she insisted he collect over the years.

It was only later that he and Zam discovered it healing properties to fairy and its many sub-species and it was by pure accident. she had been harmed by a sail snake Mortosh who then called summon a swarm Fleshlocust which proceeded to devour said beast. after dispelling the spell Mortosh was sent into a panic and had forgotten on how deal with poison in the process and also due it being something rarely he encounters due to him being undead and all.

So he sorta forgot to buy anti-venom so he just put her into the jar filled with the different fauna and ran to nearest settlement he only her Zam yelling from inside the jar. so opening the jar Mortosh explained to her why she was in the jar and that's how he discovered the healing properties of the faunas in the jar.

In the present Mortosh was finishing up Wrapped zam in leaves and put her in his shoulder pocket. after having screwed lid back on and hung the jar back on his rib he sat down a bench with no way to speak to anyone Mortosh began to wait for Zam to wake up and it would be early into noon when she did so he just planed to waited well that was the plan anyway until he heard someone call his name so he turned his head towards the sound. And saw it was Sister Agnes,Vaeri Hanzo and a Half-orc ("Please Trew Don't let it be that this one want's to eat my bones as well ") he prayed remember his last encounter with a orc. He walked over to them sister Agnes asked if he as well was lost he just nodded his head already hating his muteness well always dose but with Zam around it usually feels like hes talking through so his muteness doesn't really bother him but with no way of speaking other then a very crude form of sign languages.

So he simply fallowed the group the Inn and entered it alongside the group they walked to a table with all the people at the shop he sat down in front of the window

Hugh sat down, as Sana rested her hand on his waist, and spoke. He nodded to her comment, a little bit of a smile crossing his face as he noticed the humor she had taken, though not aware of what at. Sometimes Hugh would notice her laughing or smiling randomly at something he did or said. Her smile was addicting to him and it seemed like he didn't even have to try to make him smile, which was something that he liked. Of course, she didn't have to try to make him smile, either. Every day he would wake up with her there in his arms and as long as that was the case, he was content.

Hugh was staring at Sana for a moment, after she had spoken. His thoughts seemed to be filled with bliss as he looked on her face. The moment was only interrupted by the sound of someone slamming themselves down into a seat at their table. One of Hugh's eyes squinted as he turned his head to see this new arrival whom was in the process of stroking his ego. "Riiiiiiight." Came Hugh's reply to Tobias, with a special emphasis on the sound of the T.

Hugh couldn't help but smile at Sana's mischievousness, as she inquired on whether or not he could outrun her arrow. He snickered and said, "Or my AX!" The last word seemed to come out a lot louder and with more enthusiasm than he had originally intended, and left him scratching his chin at how it had happened. Hugh finally laid his tobacco pipe down next to his plate and started eating a little food, vigorously maneuvering his fork from the plate to his mouth with its cargo.

He was in this process for awhile, not paying that much attention to the rest of the group, until he felt his free hand gently squeezed by Sana. Her hands were so soft and it caused a tingling sensation where she touched, with a little tingling sensation going up his spine. His attention was then diverted towards the little goblin that had appeared. Hugh gave a great big cheerful smile at the little goblin's appearance, happy to see someone he had liked appearing with their new group. Hugh was in no disagreement with paying for the little one's meal and he showed it by nodding towards Sana and the barmaid enthusiastically.

Of course, this was also interrupted by the sudden appearance of a nun. Hugh assumed she was the quest giver, but he hadn't met her yet. She seemed eager to give them a host of vials and bottles, leaving them next to their area. "Good luck, indeed." He muttered, as the nun exited and he surveyed all the bottles and vials they would have to fill.

One thing Hugh was rather intent upon was enjoying another peaceful night with Sana, as there would no doubt be no time and they would constantly be surrounded by other people. Soon they would embark on a strenuous and stressful adventure. Of course, it might have its high moments.

As time flowed onward, more and more citizens entered and exited the inn, most of which were likely seeking breakfast. Melvus was no different, most of the reasoning behind him in the inn was breakfast... Well, food in general, really. He hadn't had a real meal for nearly twenty-four hours... He could only take so much.

After he'd taken his seat at the group's table, which he presumed was not intended for that purpose, Hugh, the larger man, called a barmaid over to order food. Not long after that another fellow, by the name... Tobias approached the table and took a seat, not after explaining all of his mischief. The others joked as a nun, Melvus recognized her a sister Agnes, appeared and wished them luck on their quest.

"What about that? Are we going to split ourselves into two groups? We couldn't afford any smaller groups - the beasts will certainly be a difficult opponent... If we split ourselves into two groups we can collect everything much quicker but we risk everyone dying. What will it be?" Most of his question/small rant was directed at the one who referred to herself as Sana.

The Inn

The barmaid took the time to get each persons order that had not already gotten food for the morning before wandering to the kitchen area to take care of getting their requests. Sana leaned back in her seat as she finished eating and pushed her plate away somewhat; taking a look at the group as a whole and wondering how capable they were. Some looked far more capable than others granted looks could be deceiving. Of those there she only knew two personally and she knew they could fight well but of the others it would take seeing them in action to see if they were going to be a help or a hindrance.

Looking over at Hugh as he seemed to get rather excited when he piped in about his ax she chuckled and rested her hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently as she did so. Turning her attention Melvus as he asked if they should split up Sana shook her head slightly as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “I don’t like the idea of us splitting up until we know how well each other fight and who works well with each other. The fact we have to get blood from a dragon alone makes me worry. They aren’t exactly the easiest of creatures to take down if it comes to that. If they were everyone would have dragon hide armor,” she commented as she rose from her place. “One thing is for sure, we do need to get moving,” she said as she pulled her cloak from the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders; taking a moment to lace it in place.

The barmaid came back several times and placed plates of food in front of each person that had ordered food or drink before going back to take care of the few other patrons in the inn. Glancing out of the corner of her eye there was one that did not sit right with Sana. Someone who had situated themselves in corner and seemed to have been watching the group intently for some time but had not said a word to anyone and was not part of the group that had quickly formed. Turning her attention to Hugh, Sana rested her hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “I am going to ready our horses, can you get our things from the room when you are done?” she whispered softly against his ear before placing a kiss on his cheek. Leaning back she smiled as she headed out of the inn; picking up the box that the nun had brought over for them as she did.

Heading out of the inn she glanced around before making her way to the stables where she and Hugh had rented a place for both of their horses the evening before. Glancing around as she walked she had that gut feeling she got from time to time and sighed. Something wasn’t right. Her eyes darted around a bit and she noticed several others that did not seem to fit in such a town. They didn’t look like typical townies nor did they look like adventurers. Stopping at the stable she placed the box down by the feet of the old man who was puffing away on his pipe and rose a brow.

“Know them?” she asked after she instructed the stable boy to get the horses and saddle them up for her. The man took a long drag from his pipe and shook his head no slowly. “Trouble?” she asked quietly and the man nodded slowly. “I see,” she said before sighing deeply. She really didn’t want to deal with anything yet, they were not even out of town but then as she turned around she noticed something she had seen before when she was younger. It was the emblem of a slaver, her troop of gypsy had been attacked at one point when she was young, they wanting young women to sell. She knew these types of people were not exactly picky and with the announcement that went out seeking adventurers she wondered if it had brought the Slaver as well as his associates.

Between the one she had seen in the inn that seemed off, the slaver that was walking down the main fairway of the town that made two. How many more where there? Stepping around next to the stable owner she leaned back against the fence as she waited for the horses, taking a leisurely pose as she watched the town and counted to herself. ”One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Pair on the roof, which makes seven. Three in the alleyway by the inn makes ten and one in the inn makes eleven.” Tilting her neck from side to side as she watched the one that had been in the inn stroll out and begin speaking with the one that had the mark of the Slaver on him. Sana grumbled, she hated slavers and even though this wasn’t technically what they were being hired for she couldn’t in good conscience do nothing so she decided to run a little test.

Pushing off the fence she began walking across the street towards the general store as she pulled the hood of mantle back. Giving the men a sultry smile as she did so and swaying her hips slightly in the process. The one from the inn that was dressed more like a thief than anything glanced her way as did the slaver but they said and did nothing to approach her. Perhaps she was wrong? Turned out she wasn’t as she passed an alleyway and a rather large man that appeared to be a bandit stepped in front of her path.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out all alone on these dangerous streets?” he asked in a deep voice. Sana stopped in her tracks, looking him over slowly as a smile crept across her lips.

“Just needing to pick up a few things. Excuse me,” she said as she took a step to the left to try to move passed him. He mimicked her step and blocked her path once again.

“Aww love, don’t be in a hurry,” he said as he reached out to brush some of her hair out of her face. Sana took a step back and smirked.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she retorted in a coy voice before spinning down and sliding passed him and coming up behind him; continuing on her way. The man growled slightly and grabbed her by the arm.

“Well ya ain’t me love,” he snarled and Sana just laughed.

“Oh you are in so much trouble,” she said in a flat voice before turning her head towards the Inn. “Hugh!” she bellowed out loud enough to be heard in the inn, her voice echoing through the quiet village. The Slaver and the rest of his group starting to come forward with their weapons drawn. There were nine total on the ground and the two that were on the roof of the general store and the apothecary with compound bows could be clearly seen when one exited the Inn.

“Aww, calling for help. Ain’t no one gonna help ya now love. You’ll fetch a pretty penny,” the man who had a grip on Sanas arm chuckled in a depraved manner. “Well maybe we’ll just keep you for us.”

“Yup, you’re gonna die,” Sana said in a rather calm voice as she stood there.

"What? By you little thing?" he asked as he pulled her close. Sana couldn't help but laugh in his face.

"Oh no, not by me," she said with a bright but cold smile on her lips.

Mortosh Smiled well what could count for a smile for a Jaw less skeleton as he watched Zam Devour the Sweet roll he ordered for her Zam who awoken just a few minuets after he had ordered the pastry for her. He was a bit bored which is an immortals worst enemy everyone else at the table seemed to be doing something be it having a conversation or just looking over there own equipment which he could do he supposed but he carried so little on him that he had everything memorized.

so he just looked around he saw a barmaid smoking out of a pipe she turned and saw him looking at her she flashed a grin at him ("Oh Trew not again") he thought for he recognized that kind of grin it was a grin of a predator that had just found herself a perfect prey and he was it. She walked over to him still flashing her predatory grin

"Well hello there Mister Dark and mysterious i couldn't help but notice you looking at me by the way the names Grimhilde" she said all this while trying to make her bosom as noticeable to the poor skeleton who wished for nothing more then one of his many soon to be companions to take notice of his discomfort and help him.

and one did notice it was companion Zam who proceeded to defend his honor and after a brief argument between Grimhilde and Zam with Zam explaining to the Off-Duty Barmaid that he wasn't interested in such relationship at the moment so after being hit on by the Lustful Grimhilde he ended up having surprisingly pleasant conversation with the off duty barmaid who toke the empty seat at the Table she was a bit confused at the fact that Zam answered her instead of him but Zam explained his situation to Grimhilde she soon had to leave to return back to her shift.

All in all its been pleasant well it was until he heard Sana call for Hugh then all hell broke loose he was gonna call for Zam to return to her pocket only to feel himself being dragged out of the window before he could tell he quickly pushed himself of the wall so the bandit holding would lose his balance.

he then grabbed his mace and hit said bandit on the head dizzying him for a little while he quickly stood up("Zam Find Safe And Hide") he commanded her. Zam just nodded and went of to find somewhere safe but where she could still see the action Mortosh heard the Bandit rise back up and the bandit drew out a knife from his boot and got into a stance.

Vaeri had been observing the group idly when she heard Sana's yell for Hugh. She turned towards the source of the yell and spotted the mysterious woman being grabbed by a man and several men with weapons walking towards the human. She took off her hood for the first time since she had arrived in the village and smiled at her new companions. Well everyone would have to see sooner or later that she was an elf, and considering some of the other members of the party, she doubted anyone would really care. As for her disfigurement, well there were more important things to be worried about right now.

"It appears it is now time for me to serve my Lady." Calmly she turned away from the table and walked out into the street. Vaeri opened up her bag and from it began to pull out a handle. On her way out, she felt a hand grab her roughly on her upper arm. It was one of the armed men, he was a couple inches taller and maybe a stone heavier than Vaeri and clad in light armor. In his other hand was a dagger that he gestured with towards her threateningly. Most people expected bandits to be uglier than the common folk, but this man was unremarkable in appearance towards either end of the scale.

---

"Hey, we've got ourselves an elf here!" he called to his associates before he took a second look at the woman he was grabbing. She was smiling at him, which was disconcerting enough. Most people would be resisting and yelling right now. And what were those scars all over her face. Instinctively, he recoiled from the cleric, letting go of her arm, that now that he though about it was a lot harder than most people's. He regained his composure quickly however, brandishing his dagger at the unarmed woman.

"Look here, elf. You're going to come with me quietly, or else I'm going to have to stick you with this. Got it?" The elf's eyes flicked from the dagger to the thief's face, but her expression didn't change. The thief waved the knife around more, but the elf just kept smiling that cocksure smile. Their encounter stayed at this state for several seconds before the woman spoke up.

"Are you going to attack me, or are you going to stand there waving around your weapon like a fool?" The elf looked and sounded like she was disappointed and confused why he hadn't been attacking. The thief took a few steps back. This elf was mad. He had never killed anyone before, and the thought of actually stabbing somebody made him feel a bit sick. Usually the threat of deadly force was sufficient enough to keep people in line, and if they got violent one of the bigger, more fight-oriented men would step in, but this, he didn't know how to handle this. Still, he couldn't just stand here and let everyone see him be intimidated by an unarmed elven woman of all things.

The thief rushed the woman, and stabbed at the woman. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her go down. Out of nowhere, something hard hit him in the stomach, which took away his ability to breath and almost forced his eyelids open. There was a leg there, and it had its knee in his stomach. He looked up to see the elf, the morning sun directly behind her head, giving her an almost divine halo around her head. And a bit above that were her hands, clamped together into a single fist raised high into the air. Suddenly, the thief was on the ground and his vision was filled with dirt. It hurt to breath and his head felt like it was full of mush, but he was still alive.

---

Vaeri walked away from the man on the ground disappointed. She had been hoping for an actual fight, and instead she got an amateur. She could have easily killed him, but doing so would feel like killing a random insect you found on the road. It was beneath her. Vaeri pulled out the dagger stuck in her armor and some blood on the tip. Huh.

Having finished her breakfast and paid for the meal, Fiona had just been about to leave the inn and go check on her horse in the stables when she noticed what was outside. She saw Sana, her arm gripped by an unfamiliar man, who was accompanied by a number of others, all armed and dangerous. When Sana called for help, Fiona immediately knew a fight was on hand. She didn't know who exactly these men were, but the village was obviously in danger now, and she felt compelled to act. Drawing her blade, she was one of the first out the door, searching for a foe to cut off and engage.

She didn't have to look very hard. A well-built mercenary in leather armor moved straight for her not long after she stepped outside, a heavy broadsword in hand, his other hand free. Immediately Fiona made the judgement to dodge rather than block; his swings were heavy but slow. She avoided the first slash and immediately went on the offensive, lashing out with quick strikes from her lighter blade. Her pressure was relentless, giving him no time to return strikes between her attacks, and she was soon forcing him away, towards the side of the inn.

Her blade work was superior to his, and soon she landed a quick slash to his sword hand when he missed a block, severing two of his fingers. The mercenary dropped his sword and roared in pain, Fiona following up her attack with a slash for his face. He leaned back, but not enough to avoid getting cut by the edge across his lips and nose. He spun away and stumbled several steps back, dripping blood down into the street.

Fiona was just about to press her advantage when the mercenary pulled a small, one handed crossbow from his back with his uninjured hand, the weapon already loaded. He didn't take long to aim, but she was an easy target this close, and the bolt ended up hitting her in the midsection, near her left hip. She gasped, staggering a step backwards, the mercenary rushing at her, dropping his crossbow. She made an overhand strike for him, but was too slow, and he caught her wrist, his missing fingers sending blood dripping along her arm. His other hand went to grab the bolt, painfully twisting it, and Fiona cried out, struggling to extricate herself.

His weight pressed her backwards, and she was unable to hold her ground, instead being forced away until her back slammed against the wall of the inn, the crossbow bolt still digging in agonizingly. The back of her head hit the wall hard enough to daze her, and Fiona slid down to the ground on her side.

"Stupid girl," the mercenary thug said, looming over her, "shouldn't have tried to fight." Injured though she was, Fiona was hardly out of the fight just yet, as he would soon find out.

Zarxire was shoved into his books when he heard Sana call for help. He quickly shot up and ran outside. There was a large group gathering around Sana. Zarxire lit his entire body ablaze and charged for one of the smaller ones. "You fucked with the wrong group of adventurers!"

Slamming his claws into the man's chest, Zarxire lifted him up and slammed him into the ground. He then proceeded to pounce on top of him and summon a fireball. "May your body feel the eternal blazes of hell!" Zarxire forced the theif's mouth open and shoved the fireball inside causing the man's head to burn from the inside out. It left a gruesome body on the ground as he stood up, looking to the rest of the fuckers. I leave the rest of you to my friends.

Lob was growing heady in the apothecary, so many smells were making it hard for him to focus. Thankfully, the sister was kind enough to lead him to the others. As an act of kindness, he gave the flowers he used to find the apothacary to her as he had heard the bard tell in tales before.

Not finding comfort on the tables, he took to hang from a rafter and listening to all while watching to see who would be alphas or betas in this new pack. When the alpha female left, he reached down and took her plate to begin licking it clean. He would proceed to do this to all others plates as they finished them off for traces of food or even the cooking grease unless he was stopped. It had been one of his ways to earn his place in the old pack to 'make round clean' so he thought to do the same here as well.

“Hugh!”

He heard the alpha female call, bringing him to attention. Just in time for the one of death to be pulled through a window. In full brachidation, Lob swung and flung himself out the now opened window past the two fighting. Looking around he could see the pack was being attacked by another tribe. In his tribes he was the best climber so he got high as fast as he could. Seeing a hunter on the roof of the smelly place, he moved with as much ease as any child climbing on rocks as he was soon two stories up from the ground to the first beam of the overhanding sign to the wood beam siding and up again to sink nails into the roof beam.

Hanging under the roof, he was past the field of vision of being seen by the archer who thought himself so clever to lay down with his crossbow to steady his aim. A great green grabber got the grafter and glommed the guile from the gable. The attack was sudden, but not enough for the archer to not fire the loaded bolt into the limb reaching for him before all went black.

As the archer fell to the ground below, Lob looked at the arrow in his arm.

"...ow."

Tobias sipped his drink. "Tastes like feet-flavored ale. Or maybe ale and cow piss," he quipped to nobody in particular. Drink in hand, he settled back in his seat to watch the bizarre spectacle of a barmaid coming onto the mysterious one with the skeleton... fairy... thing.

He remained settled until he caught sight of the man in the corner. Every single facet of his well-cultivated street-sense screamed that he was trouble. So focused was he on the man that it barely registered in the thief's mind when Sana got up to 'ready the horses'.

For a moment, things were quiet. Then, all hell broke loose.

Sana screamed for help from outside - for Hugh. Everyone was on their feet, weapons being drawn left right and center. The strange one, Mortosh, was dragged out the window. Fiona was out the door in a heartbeat, sword already in hand.

Automatically, Tobias was on his feet and sprinting for the doorway. He'd seen enough gang fights to know where this was going, and know that he wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

He was out the door right behind Fiona, tempted to shove her through in his haste to get out of the inn. What he found outside didn't encourage him. Sana had been grabbed, Fiona was sword-fighting someone, the elf was back and looked to be in the middle of throwing someone to the ground, the demon was on fire - why was the demon on fire? It was a disaster area that looked to be getting steadily worse. Without checking his pace, Tobias turned and ran off to the side of the inn, hoping he could lose any pursuers in the alleyway.

Instead, he ran smack into another one of the enemies. The rogue stepped back, shaking his head to clear it, and tried to size up the person he'd run into. He was young; couldn't have been much older than Tobias, clean-shaven, short haired, dressed in all brown leather. In his eyes there was a look more bewildered than threatening, and Tobias couldn't help but wonder what the young man was doing here.

But then the other rogue's gaze set hard, and he pulled a knife from his belt, brandishing it threateningly. Tobias backed away, snapping his head left and right, scanning for an out. There was none. The alleyway was too narrow to get past, and there were probably more down there anyway. Haltingly, Tobias reached up to his back for the knife he kept sheathed there.

The two thieves circled each other warily.

That does make sense… I’ve already considered the danger of that dragon… Before Melvus could voice a reply to the woman, who referred to herself as Sana, she’d already left to ready the horses… at least that’s what Melvus heard before she made herself scarce. Hmm… If we go for the dragon first… that could easily mean that we all die, or it could get what appears to be the most challenging task out of the way early…

It was about then that Melvus heard the cry, “HUGH!” It came from outside, Melvus presumed that it could only be one person… well it had the potential for being several people but it was a female voice, so he assumed that it was Sana. She was likely in some form a trouble judging by her shout… cry? Yell for help? Something to that effect at any rate. It didn’t take very long for most of the other party members to be on their feet and out the door. The skeleton, who Melvus hadn’t been introduced to yet - though he may not want to be - seemingly jumped out one of the windows on the inn. Though it could be something else.

The woman, who revealed herself to be an elf, was already outside by this point and so was the ash-smelling wizard. Melvus stood, made sure he had his things. As far as I’m concerned this has the looks of a bandit raid… though it could be something else - it wouldn’t be thieves, why would they make their move in the daylight? So… Bandits… Then he spotted the man. He wasn’t that far from the inn - he could be seen from the inside. He was, however, on the opposite side of the inn compared to where all of the commotion was transpiring. The man wore expensive garments and seemed to be telling a few of the ‘bandits’ where to go and what to do. They went were he directed.

I’ll have to reassess, these are not bandits… They aren’t worse - just about the same if I had to say… they were slavers… Why would I guess that? Well, I wouldn’t. Thieves don’t attack during the day, bandits don’t give people an opportunity to call for help, they were taking prisoners, and their leader usually doesn’t wear such expensive things… So, slavers. Melvus made his way out of the door, the slaver hadn’t noticed him yet, he was approaching the commotion on the other side. The man made sure not to cut through the inn, the quicker route, but rather began making his way around.

“Evening…” Came a rather quiet voice from in front of the presumed slaver. Who stopped.

“Evening? It’s morning! Whose there?” He asked/yelled, reaching to his side. Melvus took notice that he carried a cutlas on his right side, suggesting a left handed swordsman. “What the hell! What magic is that!” The origin of the voice had been revealed as a man who wore scholarly robes - splattered with dried blood, mind you - and carried a staff, he seemed to materialize in front of the man. “Who the hell are you?”

“If you call off your attack, slaver, you may be able to not lose all of your men…” Melvus said this as he drew his own sword, from his left side.

“Who the ‘ell do you think you are? Huh?” The slaver seemed rather angry now, he drew his cutlas. “Tellin’ me to not get what’s mine? Fuck you.” His spat on the ground. The dialogue confirmed Mevlus’ suspicions that the man was in-fact a slaver. As he drew his cutlas, he took a sword stance.

It would appear that he is trained in sword combat… well, so am I… “Then you are blind… or ignorant… Do you not see the other side of this inn? Those who would choose to follow you are being slaughtered… You would allow them to die? And for what? Your own-“ He was cut off by the man deciding that he didn’t like the criticism. The slaver lunged forward. He’s quick… Melvus sidestepped and kicked the man, he fell to the floor. He quickly regained his footing and took a stance with his sword facing Melvus, his feel spread out but one behind the other and his other hand behind him.

“Have at me wizard! Unless you can’t, then I’ll cut you down here and now!” The man took a stab at Melvus who stepped to the left while performing a sweeping parry, redirecting his opponents blade while allowing Melvus to attack, a rather clever move. As Melvus moved out of the parry, using the force to attack, the other man repositioned his blade to defend. “So you can use a blade?” The man paused and glanced behind Melvus, “Get him now!”

Where… Melvus’ head whipped around to find that there was no one there… Dammit - I fell for the fake… As he turned around he had been stabbed, he had shifted in time so the sword only pierced his right arm. Melvus’ winced but let out no cry. His blood spluttered from his wound. It didn't go through... The warm fluid flowed down his arm as he held it at his side, straight as to not strain it.

“Who the hell are you? Don’t even fucking react to pain?” The man was half proud of his attack and the other half was fearful. He withdrew his cutlas and took a more defensive stance as Melvus regained himself. “What are you gonna do now? Huh? Basterd! You can’t use your blade now!” He was quite right, Melvus’ sword was on the floor and he had no training with his left arm.

“You forget… I am a wizard.” He held out his left hand and from it came a glowing arm which grabbed the other man’s sword and tossed it aside.

“Fucking gods!” The man didn’t seem to expect that. The arm grabbed the man before he could flee.

“As I’ve said… leave…” The arm threw the man down the street, in the direction of the commotion. It wasn’t a particularly violent toss, but he would definitely have a few broken bones. Melvus reached down and picked up his sword with his left hand, struggling to get it back into it’s scabbard. He made his way back into the inn and stopped at the counter, “I’ll take the tab for my friends.” Friends…? Well, we are fighting together already… Not to self: train with my sword more… I’d rather not lose the use of my right arm…

After he had been given his supplies for the journey, Hanzo paid a respectful bow to Sister Agnes. Seeing as the multitude of people were starting to make their way outside towards the inn, the monk too took the liberty of following at a distance. He was still wary of strangers, especially in such a large, diverse, and unique grouping such as this.

That being said, however, Hanzo hoped he could manage to pass off well enough to at least help get this mission finished - there was power and safety in numbers, after all. Ultimately, as long as nobody looked to comment on his shaven head, this all might go by rather painlessly.

Hanzo trailed the small horde of adventurers into the inn's main room, a fairly capable dining area. Here, some of Hanzo's doubt began to surface again, as he very rarely stayed around in an eatery like this and usually bought food as trail rations. Though, he had already eaten some before he set out into the village today, so perhaps the monk could get away with not ordering much. Maybe just a drink- a cup of herbal tea could hold him over before he got on the road.

He snapped himself out of his musings with a safe confirmation, hearing a server approach. The monk kindly ordered his cup of tea, then reached for his belt to pull a small cloth wallet from under his robes. Hanzo looked to the others, seeing them all chatter among themselves - the tall, almost bearish man, he had not seen before, but Hanzo eventually worked him out to be the 'Hugh' Sana was talking about.

The server returned with the steaming cup, and Hanzo thanked her, passing along a few silver coins to pay his bill and then some. Most of the money Hanzo earned was from performing acts of kindness and other odd jobs, from people who insisted he be paid for his efforts. There was a time when Hanzo was somewhat against it, but he found the money to be undeniably helpful for events such as this, where he should at least try to fit in. Of course, the monk would still live a miserly way, as he was used to, and in fairness, it probably steered off thieves a bit.

Speaking of thieves, Hanzo was following the gazes of several of his new allies to spy out a gruff, unseemly man in the corner, eying them with a grim face. Normally, Hanzo wouldn't get within a conflict if he could help it, but Sana seemed to be put off about it, as she was first to break away from the group (with a parting kiss to Hugh). The monk carefully turned back to his cup of tea, trying to remain inconspicuous...

Soon enough, a female scream echoed outside, calling for the big man Hugh. The monk was the first to dart from his seat, realizing there was possibly a bandit group surrounding the inn, with one of them catching Sana. Already, the adventurers were looking to give chase outside to help - Hanzo was one of the first outside, trying to assess the situation.

Before Hanzo could act further, however, he instead whirled around to parry an incoming blow from a bandit flanked on the side of the doorway, taking advantage of the havoc to try and sneak an attack out. The monk was barely able to catch the incoming blade, following up with a thrust of the palm of his free hand to force his attacker back. The bandit caught himself on the wall, still brandishing the dagger but now wearing a determined grimace. Hanzo entered a proper ready stance, arms raised and feet spread, perched on the balls of his feet to move and strike at any moment.

"Hm. You got lucky," The dirty pillager belted out, only reassuring himself, "But some fancy fist-fightin' ain't gonna save you, pal." The bandit hauled himself to his feet again, his dagger at the ready.

The monk mentally scoffed at the bandit, but retained his own focused mask of a face. "As if you would know what I'm capable of."

"It won't matter-!" His foe cried out, charging Hanzo again with a lunging stab. As he closed in, the martial artist sidled back, then spun around on his planted foot to land a spinning heel kick into the side of the man's ribs.

The blow took advantage of the failed charge to render the bandit sprawling on the ground to the side with a winded cough, kicking up a small layer of dust and dirt on the beaten path. "You're making a poor choice. If you keep going, you will regret it," Hanzo announced to the toppled man, now working to pick himself off the ground.

Needless to say, the scuffed-up vagabond was not about listen to reason just yet, while he still believed he had a chance. This time, however, he decided to take what he thought to be a more clever approach. As the bandit got on his feet again (and coughed, still reeling from the kick), he suddenly snapped up and threw his dagger at the monk, as quickly as he was able to. Which is to say, Hanzo managed to notice the attack and dodge it, the flying blade whizzing aside his ear. In the meantime, the bandit ran forward again in a shoulder charge, resorting to brute fisticuffs - if Hanzo could do it, so could he, surely!

It was not so. Hanzo firmly placed a hook punch to the man's exposed face, his nose crackling under the force of the impact. With the momentum of the charge yet intact, the martial artist turned, grabbing the bandit's sleeve and shirt collar - then, falling to one knee, he hurled the man into the air. The outlaw flew a good couple of meters headfirst before rolling and tumbling into a limp, defeated mass on the ground.

The battle-worm man coughed and groaned wearily, still conscious but soaking in pain throughout his body. With the few dwindling ounces of strength he yet had, the bandit manged to get on his elbows and knees, his desperate wheeze for breath earning him the dusty air kicked up by his fall to the earth. He looked up, and through blurred vision saw Hanzo approaching him-

"Run. Or you may not survive this next blow."

He let out a defiant growl, but was let little other choice but to comply. The beaten bandit scrambled to his feet and hobbled away as quickly as he could afford. He would later realize that he was leaving a trail of blood drops, beginning with a gash upon his side and ending with the bandit's abandoned knife, whom he had fallen on when Hanzo had thrown him. But before that, as he fled, he let out a final cry of, "Don't think I'll forget this, you smug, bald fuckhead!"

Hanzo only gave a sigh through clenched teeth. So much for avoiding a comment on his shaven head.

It seemed to Hugh that everyone in this little town was intent on seating themselves at his table that he had reserved for himself and Sana. Of course, he wasn't one to be rude and deny people whom wished to join them, he was only surprised that more people kept coming in and all of them seating themselves at his table. Hugh felt a little like he was stressing out with all of the attention focused on his table, but he continued eating. He still persisted in wishing that he and Sana could enjoy a quiet meal together.

The thing that relieved him of his stressing was feeling a gentle rub from Sana on his shoulder. He looked at her with a small content smile on his face, before she took to answering a question from the character known as Melvus. Hugh went back to slowly eating his breakfast meal as he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary that was occurring around him. Nothing was really grabbing his attention until Sana stood up and leaned in close to him, speaking softly into his ear, and resting her hand on his shoulder.

Hugh felt a little tingle in his and the side of his face where he felt her breath softly fall against his cheek. His head seemed to swim and he felt dizzy after feeling Sana kiss his cheek. The moment didn't last too long, but long enough, as she parted ways with him. It was enjoyable to feel, but he quickly realized that he didn't quite remember what she had said. He remembered little tidbits of information, such as how she was going to the horses, that he had to get their things from their room as that was what she asked him, and that he would finish eating first. He only felt that he had not gathered tidbits of information.

Hugh sighed, watching her leave. He pushed her chair back into the table after she left and continued eating, letting the awkward silence take over, as he hadn't anything to say to anyone there. He didn't have the information for the quest, so all he knew was what to get ready for. All of the ingredients were unfamiliar to him, but from what they were saying, apparently they needed to kill a dragon, and that might require some special equipment.

The silence at the table seemed to last forever, until Hugh noticed a man whom had been formerly seated at the corner exit. He hadn't much to assume from it, as he had not noticed the man until he had exited, but that event was followed by the distinct sound of his name being called out loudly. He looked towards the door with a look of worry on his face as he stood up, fork and coffee cup still in hand. The others seemed to start heading out as well, one after the other. Hugh found himself stepping outside into mayhem, with the group, as a regular street brawl broke out all around him.

His attention was elsewhere, though. The moment he had stepped out, he saw Sana standing across the street near the general store, being held by a strange looking man. He was a good sized man, but he wasn't bigger than Hugh, and he appeared to be holding her against her will. "No" Came his simple reply as he started walking slowly towards them.

Hugh glared and growled, a habit that he had thought was abolished long ago, but it rose up every now and then, sounding like a dog being disturbed from slumber. He then broke from his slow angry walk into a charge across the street, roaring as he went. He had no weapons on him, save a fork and a cup of coffee. The cup was splashing everywhere, as some of its contents ended up on the gravel street and his own clothes.

Hugh kept his sprint up, and came skidding to a stop, as he sent his cup hurling squarely into the man's face. All that was before his eyes right now was a threat to Sana, and he was determined to eliminate that threat. The cup alone hadn't taken the man's hands off of her, but Hugh fixed that. He tucked his fork into his belt, spread his own hands apart, and brought them together in a clap on the man's ears. This sent him reeling back, holding onto his ears, as they were no doubt hurting and possibly ringing.

The man seemed to crumple as he started going back into the shadows of the stable. Hugh looked towards Sana, now, with concern in his eyes, as he had deemed the character no longer a threat. "Are you alright? I was so worr-" His words were halted by the feeling of a knife stabbing into his side. Hugh turned with a scowl on his face, and grabbed the man's hand, it belonging to the same man he had just beat up with a cup and a clap to the ears. He twisted the man's hand until he dropped his grip on the knife. He began to crush the man's hand with one of his own hands, as he pulled out the fork from his belt with the other.

Hugh looked the man in the eyes, turning slowly to face him, the scowl still on his face. He brought the fork up to the man's throat. Quickly releasing the man's hand from his iron grip, he placed his grip on the back of his head and started pushing the fork into the man's throat. It was a slow and painful process for the man on the receiving end, but it finally went through, blood starting to slowly ooze out. The man fell to the ground, gargling on his blood, and clutching at his throat, the fork still stuck in it, as he slowly expired.

"Sonofabitch." Hugh muttered, falling to his knees, and clutching his side. "Mmmmmmmmm, pain never gets dull. FUCK." He cried out, wincing as he held onto it. Hugh's flanks were pretty sensitive to pain, especially the stabbing kind of pain. "I'm sorry it had to be like this, Sana. I thought this would end happily." He had a rather pain induced smile on his face, as he talked to her. His eyes seemed to begin to water from the pain, as he held onto his bloody side. "Healer." He said, in a kind of a squeak.

---

As the call for action went up throughout the inn and across the village, Drizzak happily munched away at a leg of ham that had been so courteously purchased for him by the more familiar of his teammates. He did not know what he had done to deserve such kindness, nor did he think on it for too long. Food was food, and he was ravenous. He could have eaten the legs off a horse. Frankly that didn't sound too terrible at that moment in time. Might have even been funny.

With a satisfied burp and a grumble, Drizzak threw a bare, pockmarked bone to the table. His jagged teeth shone in the light as he smiled wide and pushed himself from the stool, landing on his clawed feet with a thump. He was outside in a flash, watching as the opposition was soundly defeated by his compatriots. Injuries occurred everywhere, on both sides, but the battle was turned in their favour as soon as the fool brigands chose to take up arms. With everyone occupied, Drizzak almost felt despair at the lack of quarry for him. His bloodlust would go unfulfilled. For a moment, he felt sad.

But only for a moment.

As he looked around, he felt a sharp, hot pain in his shoulder. It struck him with force enough for him to feel it WITHIN his body. It felt warm, and cold at the same time. The goblin stood still and silent as he looked at his shoulder. Sticking from it was the shaft of an arrow. Black as night and fletched with white, it stuck out of his shoulder and pierced straight through to the other side. Desperately, he looked around yo fins its source, and he found it. There in the distance, an archer atop the roof of the village's general store. He stood, unmolested and rejoicing in his successful shot.

Then the anger came. Like a great wave of red it washed over Drizzak's vision. He was angered to the point of a growl bubbling its way up from his gut. His fangs bared, he smiled slightly as he realised that he had found his quarry. The archer stared at him, as if daring him to make a move as he nocked another arrow and drew back threateningly.

Drizzak looked him right in the eyes and took hold of the arrow already in his shoulder, before snapping it off mid-shaft.

Then he leapt forward, breaking into a sprint toward the building as he drew for his whip. The archer loosed another arrow that skimmed Drizzak's face and took a chunk from his ear, but he was far too angry at this point to care. He pushed himself to run faster, and then jump. He flew for a moment, before colliding with the side of the building and digging his clawed fingers in between the stonework. He scrabbled quickly to the roof, growling still.

The archer stood alone as Drizzak pulled himself to the roof. He wasted no time in closing the distance, making sure he could get another shot off. The archer drew a short blade from a boot sheathe and brought it upward diagonally, scoring a red streak across Drizzak's face. Another mark of war, another trophy to be proud of. It bit deep enough to draw blood, but Drizzak was far too quick for the hit to slow him as he fell to the ground and slid between the thug's legs. He stood at the edge of the roof, just a step from the open air and right next to a crossbar structure, probably used to hang signs or banners. Drizzak already knew what to do.

In one fluid movement, he leapt off the roof and over the crossbar with a twist, drew his whip and thrust his arm out at the archer. As he turned, everything seemed to slow. The whip flew out, dancing wildly before coiling around the man's neck and tightening. The shards of steel and bone woven into the whip bit into the flesh of his neck as Drizzak began to fall. He toward the ground, but the tension of the whip around the archer's neck and over the crossbar flung him just beneath the overhang of the roof, and he planted his feet on the wall solidly. Then he pulled.

Archer fell from the roof onto his head with a sickening crunch. Drizzak also fell as the tension faded from the whip, but at least he only fell a few feet.

Drizzak stood and walked over to the fallen archer, now breathing weakly. The shards of his whip had done a number. His neck was red and he gurgled every couple of seconds as a fresh gout of blood seeped from some of the bigger gashes in his throat.

Drizzak sat on his chest and made it harder for him to breathe, turning his gurgling into gurgling, wheezing and soundless pleading. Drizzak was mad, but his face was like stone. Unamused, he stuck a claw into one of the gashes on the side of his neck and pressed in further.

"Why? Why you hurt Drizzak? That not nice."

The man replied in panicked gurgles. He didn't moved his arms or legs. He couldn't. The fall had snapped his spine. Drizzak withdrew his finger with a sigh, displaying his claws for the man to see.

"Now Drizzak have to hurt you."

He looked down at the man for a moment before he pounced, driving his clawed thumbs into the archer's eyes as deep as they would go. By the time he was finished, he arms were red up to the elbows and all that was left of the archer's head was a red jellied mess.

Drizzak looked back at the others, finished with their enemies long ago. All seemed safe and mostly healthy. That was a relief. All seemed impressive in combat as well, even artful, one could say.

But Drizzak still thought that he had painted the prettiest red flower.

Center Of Town

Sana eyes narrowed as the man tightened his grip on her arm but the smile on her lips slowly formed into a cruel Cheshire grin as she heard a low growl coming from the direction of the inn. "Like I said, not by me. By him," she spat coldly as with her free hand she pointed in the direction of the growl. She knew that growl and it only ever seemed to happen when anyone put her in the most remote sense of danger. Hugh was a loving man and was tender with her and those he cared about but to cross him always meant blood was going to be spilt. As he came close she leaned back, the glass from the cup shattering around her and her free arm coming up to block it from going into the flesh of her face. The man had not let go but he soon did as Hughs massive hands clapped against the ears of her assailant.

She spun out of the way quickly and rubbed her arm where the man had gripped her; nodding to Hugh when he asked if she was alright. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she started and was about to add more when the man came back and thrust his dagger into Hugh side; causing a blood curdling scream of no to erupt from Sanas lips. Her bow was quickly unslung from her back; she was about to go after the man but she saw a second man coming up behind Hugh and had to direct her attention to him. Flipping her bow over in her hands she used it as a lasso of sorts, flipping it over the secondary mans head and spinning behind him; pulling him back, choking him between the wood of the bow and its silver string. Whipping him around and sending him into a post that held up the roof of the porch that jutted out from the general store. The mans nose crushing against the wood and blood pouring out of the now broken nasal passage.

Flipping her bow off his neck she turned her attention back to Hugh as she slung is over her back; kneeling down next to him and placing her hand over his that was covering the wound. Taking a slow breath she bit her bottom lip in worry and his words caused tears to well up in her eyes. “No, no, no, no...,” she stammered, tripping over her words before she began to look around frantically for someone to help. The archer was normally a rather emotional person, she was loving towards Hugh, quick to talk to get answers and prone to snapping at people verbally that ticked her off. Something Sana was not was a crier. She had only shed a single tear in the last ten years and now they were flowing as free as a broken dam.

Sana did not know what to do, she was not a healer and she knew there was nothing she could do for him but her eyes fell on one that she thought might as Sister Agnes came out of the Apothecary to see what was going on. “Sister!” Sana screamed in a desperate voice and the old nun came over as quickly as she could. “Please, do something,” Sana begged in a trembling voice as she reached up with her free hand and grabbed the robes of the old woman. The woman knelt down and nodded; a look of concern on her features as Sana begged for her to do something, anything to save Hugh.

“Don’t worry young one, I have him,” she said as she pulled Sanas bloodied hand away slowly a reassuring smile on her lips. “What’s his name?” she asked trying to get Sana to stop crying.

“Mine….I mean Hugh, his name is Hugh,” she whispered as she tried to wipe the tears away.

“Okay, Hugh, just relax,” Sister Agnes said in a calm voice as she placed her hand over Hughs side and began to chant, a warm white light emitting from her palm and covering his wound as it began to heal. Sana looked at the sister and then at Hugh, reaching up and cupping his face in the palm of her hands, resting her forehead against his.

"Just hold on damn it," Sana whispered through trembling lips. "This isn't a fucking happy ending, a happy ending is," she began, trying to talk through the tears as her fingers shook with worry as she held him. "Well it's growing old together, and it's" she added, trying to continue but her heart was pounding so hard and she was so full of dread that she could barely think. Taking a long breath to try to calm herself before continuing she had a moment of brief clarity.

"It's me wearing one of those stupid gowns and marrying your ass and having mini yous running around giving me gray hair cause they're off running into a damned fight against a wolf armed with only their sisters fucking tea set!" she said bluntly. "Now until we have that your ass doesn't get to go anywhere without me, you hear me!" she snapped. Sister Agnes reached over and touched Sanas shoulder with her free hand and motioned for her to look.

Sana saw the blood pouring from the wound begin to cease and she leaned back slowly, nodding she began to understand that Hugh would be okay. As it slowed Sanas expression turned from worry to calm to anger to some sort of demented twisted smile as she turned her attention back to those that were part of the crew that had dared to harm the one person she gave a damn about anymore.

The man whom she had broken the nose of was running off and Sana looked over at the corpse of the one that had stabbed Hugh; a light seeming to come to her eyes as an idea formed in her mind. A horrific idea that under any other circumstance would have repulsed Sana but at that moment with Hughs blood on her hand it was the most glorious idea she had ever dreamt of.

Unslinging her bow from her back and drawing an arrow from one of her quivers she smirked; nocking the arrow into place. Taking aim she let the arrow fly; it hit the man who was running away in the calf and caused him to stumble. Placing her bow back in place before anything else she pulled her dagger out; then she grabbed the hair on top of the head of the corpse and with one fluid motion she freed the mans skull from his body. Blood spilling from the two halves onto the ground; Sister Agnes gasped and turned quickly, throwing up in the dirt from the sight. Sana didn’t take notice much more than to tell the sister to keep healing Hugh; taking a deep breath she began to walk.

Stalking the one that was now limping away as she slowly swung the head by its hair like a pendulum, an arrow in his hand from where he had pulled it out of his calf. “I am going to skull fuck your eye socket with my arrows,” she hissed. He tried to run but between the blood from his nose, the welling up of tears in his eyes and the damage to his calf he was not moving quickly and even at Sanas slow predatory pace she was able to catch up with him quickly.

Taking the skull she wielded it like a club and bashed the man in the back of the head with it, causing him spill out onto the ground. The last sign of the fork still sticking out of the bottom of the skull as it leaked blood onto the ground as she stood over him. The man coughed as he spit out dirt that crashed into his mouth, rolling over as he grabbed the back of his skull. Sana tilted her head to the side as she watched him with some cruel mirth in her eyes before she kicked forward and her boot connected with his groin. The man cried out but took the arrow and stabbed at Sana as she moved to strike him again with the head of his fallen comrade. The arrow went into her forearm deep and came out the other side; causing her to drop the severed appendage to the ground and grunt in pain. Reaching to pull the arrow out the man kicked at the back of her knee as she turned causing her to fall to one knee just as she was able to pull it out; screaming slightly as she did and dropping the remnants of the arrow to the ground.

He went to punch her but Sana rolled out of the way and went to move further out of his reach before he grabbed her cloak and pulled back hard, sending her slamming into the ground and the wind being knocked out of her. Gasping for air the man managed to get up as Sana rolled over onto all fours trying to catch the first breath once again. Reaching down his fingers wrapped around her throat and slowly lifted her off the ground, Sanas hands coming up and trying to pry them away but his grip was far stronger than hers. She knew she couldn't break free that way and opted for another choice. Arching her leg out and up she managed to get her foot over his head and slammed it against his opposite shoulder. He lowered her enough to where her free foot was on the ground and that was what she needed to get enough leverage to spin slightly and push off the ground, as she tucked her body in; her waist bending as her other foot came off the ground and locking with her original foot around the back of his head and flinging him over her back, his grip on her throat finally releasing.

Landing down on one knee, she pulled the lace of her cloak and let it fall into the ground behind her. “No capes,” she muttered. Standing up straight she rubbed her neck before pulling an arrow out of her side quiver and unslinging her bow from back. Taking quick aim as the man lay on the ground she let it fly, imbedding into the back of his left shoulder, ripping through the flesh and going into the ground; locking the man against the road.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she hissed as she knelt down next to the man before she pulled the arrow out of the ground and out of his shoulder; tossing it to the side. As he screamed out she balled her fist up, rage still filling her eyes as she punched him square in the face; the man falling limp against the ground unconscious. Shaking out her hand before looking over towards Hugh and the Sister and then back at the man lying on the ground and then the head over to the side. Picking it up she looked around until she found Drizzak. "Drizzak!" she yelled out and launched the skull towards him. "Have fun with it," she said before turning her attention back to the motionless body on the ground near her feet.

Grabbing his ankle she began to drag the body back over to Hugh, Sana cringing in pain from the stab wound in her forearm and limping slightly from the blow she had taken to the back of her knee but she was full of anger and rage; seeing only crimson right then. "Let’s take a walk,” she sneered as she trudged along, determined to finish exactly what she said but she wanted to let Hugh deal with him first.

As she got close to Hugh she let go of the mans ankle and sank down to look at Hugh. Slowly moving over to him and resting down on her knees in front of him; her back to what she assumed was a still unconscious man yet he was starting to come around.

"You better be alright, I don't get all mushy over just anyone," she said catching her breath, her blood covered hands clenching the fabric of her skirt.

After another moment of circling, Tobias opened his mouth to try and reason with his opponent. "Hey, look, neither of us want to do this. How about you just -"

The man cut him off with a swing of his blade. Tobias just barely jerked out of the way of the attack and answered with one of his own, shifting to a reverse grip and attempting to strike diagonally - the other rogue, unfortunately, stepped back before the blow landed. This became their new equilibrium: a cautious strike and a hurried dodge, a stab and a block, and it continued for a few moments or a thousand years, give or take.

Tobias brought the knife high to fake a cut then retracted, changed his grip again, thrust it forward under the man's hurried guard. Blade met body with a strange, sickening noise, and the other man grunted in pain and surprise as the stab connected on his abdomen. Pain and fury played across his face and he lunged forward with a cry advancing on Tobias and slashing with every step. Tobias matched his pace hurriedly, stepping back from the first cut, the second -

The third, though, came with two steps instead of one. The knife came diagonally down and across Tobias's chest, leaving a line of white-hot pain as it passed. Clutching his wound, Tobias staggered back, hunched over and still trying to hold the knife out threateningly.

His opponent advanced again, confident, looking to finish the conflict quickly. He aimed an overhead stab down at Tobias, whose arm barely shot up to make contact with his in time to prevent it. The two men struggled with each other for a moment, every second bringing the red-stained blade perilously closer to Tobias's face.

Tobias lunged forward in a headbutt, cracking the two rogue's skulls together hard. The world went white, and the men staggered apart, cradling their heads. Tobias was just shaking clarity back into his vision when the other man's tackle hit him.

They crashed to the ground in a heap, sending the knives clattering away. Bloody, wounded, they struggled with each other. Tobias brought his fist up and punched the other man in the face. The first hit snapped his head back. The second broke his nose. The third crashed into his teeth, mingling blood from the other man's mouth and Tobias's split knuckles all across the scene.

His opponent lashed out an elbow, made Tobias's head bounce off the ground painfully. Before he could react, he'd been rolled to his back and his foe was on top of him, crushing him. The smell of blood and sweat and fear was inescapable as the other rogue wrapped his hands around Tobias's throat and began to squeeze.

Tobias fumbled for the dagger in his belt, but his arm was pinned under the man's weight. He clawed at the man's back with his free hand, he thrashed and spit, he tried to bite at his opponent's arms, anything to relieve the crushing pressure closing around his neck. Tobias gasped for air and found none. Everything was beginning to fade, and the last thing Tobias would see would be the sneering, bloody, broken, triumphant face of the man who'd just choked his life out.

Fumbling, Tobias brought his hand up, jerking it ever higher up the other man's body. To him, it must have seemed like the dumb animal flailing of the nearly deceased, a plea for mercy in some curious language without words.

Just as the world was going black, Tobias jammed his thumb as far as it would go into the man's eye.

The other rogue screamed and fell back clutching his face. The terrible pressure was removed, and Tobias gasped for breath as he bucked with his body, sending his foe spilling off and to the floor. Tobias was on him in another moment, the knife from his belt in hand. He stabbed downward - once, twice, four times, seven. He lost count after that.

When the body of the other rogue was finally still, Tobias rolled off him and leaned against the wall of the alley. The knife slipped from his grasp as the terrible pain from the gash in his chest made him grit his teeth. Clutching his wound, Tobias shook and struggled, attempting to work his way back to his feet. He was barely squatting when he slipped in a pool of blood and was sent spilling back down again.

Trying to hold his wound shut, coated in the blood of two men, sucking for oxygen with every frantic breath, Tobias rested his head against the wall at his back.

Zam was hiding behind the windowsill her head peeking over the edge so she could watch Mortosh's Fight. The bandit had charged at Mortosh but he dogged but then felt himself being dragged down to the ground by his hood which drew down his hood dispelling the enchantment that kept his face hidden the bandit had a bit of a shock at the fact he was fighting an undead but he quickly got over it and stabbed Mortosh's skull. Mortosh unhindered by his wound looked for his mace which had been dropped when was dragged to the ground.

When he found it he quickly grabbed it and proceeded to swing it in the direction of bandit who was crouched over him trying dislodged the knife from Mortosh's skull. the blow struck the bandit throwing him of Mortosh as well as dislodging the knife from his skull and in the process breaking the top of his skull leaving a gaping hole in the process. Mortosh quickly rose up as did the bandit so they where back to the beginning both standing across from one another but both were now sporting minor wounds.

"You just made a big mistake there you undead shit" said the bandit who was now blinded in one eye from Mortosh's blow Mortosh just stood and stared for he was unable to think straight at the moment for the scent of blood it was all around him it was on the roofs it was everywhere even on him and it was getting to him. He tried to ignore his instinct to just charge at the being before him and just end him where he stood but it was just too much.

"Oh whats the matter freak did you just realize that i will be seen as hero for kil" he never got to finish the sentience for Mortosh released a inhuman moan/howl and charged at the bandit tried to dodge but he was to late for Mortosh was already upon him he looked at his assailant and looked into the now empty sockets where before they held a glow of intelligence now they where just empty and hollow then Mortosh delivered a punch to his head and again and again he just kept beating the bandit and with a final blow to his head the bandit who was already starting to slip into unconsciousness was laid to rest but he didn't he just continued beating the bandit until managed to break open the bandits skull exposing the beings brain he quickly grabbed it and tore it out.

He then began to try to devour the organ but his lack of a lower jaw left little results other then just covering his already dirty armor in more blood it was then he heard it was a small voice "Mortosh stop this he's already dead Mortosh" he turned to the voice and saw a small being floating before him.

Zam was in distress she had been trying to stop him but she didn't know what to do so she tried to but nothing seemed to work he wasn't responding to anything that was until she tried to tell him to stop he looked at her she smiled thinking finally she had stopped him but when she saw his socket they where missing the glow of intelligence they where just empty it was then in her little observation that he charged she flew upwards to dodge him he then tried to grab her he was clawing at the wall in attempt to catch her "Mortosh What Wrong Stop This this isn't funny Mortosh" he wasn't responding what could she do she had no idea on what to do.

She then remembered that strange technique that mortosh sometimes she remembered that he even once used it on a berserk Orc who they where healing it calmed the rampaging orc but she didn't know how to do it but she had to try so she flew back down and in front of mortosh briefly stopped clawing at wall was prepared to strike her but stopped when he felt an energy begin to enter him.

("Zam? Where Am I?") She Did it she had manged to calm him down. Mortosh was confused when did Zam get here he thought he had told her to hide he then looked around himself he was still in the alley way he then looked down and saw his armor caked in gore then he saw the bandit who's head was cracked open it didn't take him long to figure out what had happen.

("Zam? Did I Do This?") she just nodded ("Oh Trew What Have I Done") he said Zam flew in front of Mortosh and said to him "Mortosh you wasn't in control you just lost yourself" Mortosh nodded ("But I Almost Hurt You") "you almost did Mort but you didn't so quit your whining and let find sister Agnes" she said as she began to fly out of the alleyway ("Yeah Lets Do That")

The mercenary standing over Fiona obviously did not expect her to rise quickly after the wound she'd received, as he took his time in winding back for a kick, ignoring the brutality around him while he neared in on a kill. Fiona was hardly beaten yet, though, and she pushed back up much quicker than the mercenary anticipated, ramming her shoulder into his gut and trying to drive him backwards in a tackle. He was taken off balance for a moment, but frustratingly he managed to dig his feet into the dirt and bring her momentum to a halt.

"Give it up, I'll make it quick for you," he sneered, reaching down and grabbing the crossbow bolt in her side again. Fiona couldn't suppress another gasp, but she soon converted it into anger.

"Screw you... asshole." She brought her right knee up as swiftly as she could, ramming it between the mercenary's legs. He had some protection there, but not nearly enough to be unaffected by the hit; his face instantly showed his pain, and he released her, reeling. Fuming, Fiona slammed an uppercut into him, dazing him heavily, before she grabbed him by the back of his armor and charged him forward, slamming his face into the wall of the inn as hard as she could. He left a bloody stain on the wall, turning away from it, only for his nose to find Fiona's palm, and it easily cracked, blood running freely now. His face was a bloody mess, blocking off his vision, and allowing Fiona to have her way.

Rather than kill him, she spun about him and slashed her sword deep into the back of one of his legs. Howling, he fell to his knees, and a hard kick to the center of his back from Fiona was enough to land him face first on the ground. Descending on him, Fiona planted one knee into his back, the other in the dirt, and pinned him down. Looking around, there were no other immediate threats to her, so she sheathed her sword.

"Got any rope on you?" she asked, not expecting an answer. "Of course you do, look what you're here for. Stealing people and dragging them away, right? For coin? Despicable." She pulled a line of thin rope from his belt and proceeded to bind his hands together behind his back, digging her knee painfully into him all the while. She was panting from the fight and obviously pained by the wound in her side, but the thrill of victory was clear on her features as well.

"You're one of the lucky ones, you know that?" she asked, temporarily shoving his bloody face into the dirt. "You could've had the goblin go after you, or the half-orc, or a bloody wizard, but you got me. Harmless me. And you thought you'd have some fun, didn't you? Didn't you!" She'd nearly choked him on dirt and his own blood before she let up, and the mercenary coughed heavily when he could breathe again.

"Sorry I wasn't as fun as you hoped." Having finished binding his hands, Fiona moved to take hold of the crossbow bolt, still keeping her knee dug into him. "Now... gah!" She carefully pulled it free from her, discarding it. It was a small bolt from a small crossbow, but painful all the same. She pressed a hand to the wound to slow the bleeding. "Now the others can decide what to do with you. You'd best hope none of them want to have any fun of their own!"

Her voice had been little above a hiss, but she now looked up and raised her tone to a shout. "Hey, got one still breathing here!" She winced from the effort, looking down to see some blood slipping between her fingers. She moved her other hand there to help. "And Sister Agnes, when you get a moment, I could use a little help."