Hanzo allowed himself to breathe with more regularity now that his body was being mended. The exhaustion still remained, and he wasn't getting back any of the blood he lost, but at the least his body was undamaged. Hopefully a good night's rest without too further interruptions would do everyone a bit of good.

With a fresh new array of corpses to dispose of, the monk sullenly began the work of dragging them over to the bonfire south of town, still blazing in rage. The heavy smell of burning at rot mixed together as he approached the fire again, one of the bodies in tow. Some of the men peeking out from their houses offered to help, taking up some of the other bodies for disposal. It was a gruesome crowd and a grueling effort, but it would get done in due time-

"Wha- hey! This one's still alive!"

As he was about to heave the first body into the flames, Hanzo snapped to attention at the sudden shout, dropping the leg he was pulling around and looking back to the village.

"The hell is he- augh!"
"He's getting away, quick, someone stop him-!"

It was the thief Hanzo had knocked down before. His company all brutally murdered and his ass beaten twice today, it was safe to assume he had lost this fight. The thief placed a couple of fingers in his mouth and blew a certain shrill whistle, calling his abandoned horse. His new plan was to to leave the town and escape into the forest while the adventurers were winding down; Despite his wounded state, he still had superior agility to the common townsfolk, and he had a horse to carry him regardless. 

His mount came galloping out from one of the alleys, and he swung himself up into the saddle as quickly as he could afford while keeping them both moving. His plan was perfect, in his mind - retreat to the southern fort, take whatever supplies he needed, then run away before nightfall and under the cover of night. As long as nobody could intercept him-

A bolt of energy speared the thief in the face, knocking him off of his horse and to the ground, the mount fleeing off into the southern forest. The wind forced from his lungs, he was left breathless and gasping as the monk approached. A hand went to the thief's collar, and the criminal's eyes widened, a mix of exasperation and fear present.

"Please-...don't- kill me...!" The thief rasped out, his gaze meeting Hanzo's tired yet fierce visage. With a pained gasp, he continued to beg, "All the others... are dead-! I-isn't that enough...?"

The monk threw the thief aside, onto his back. Pinning down the man's arms behind him, Hanzo hailed one of the villagers to bring some rope. Then, in a more sinister tone, he announced to the thief, "If I could help it, none of you would've died anyways. The likes of you deserve a proper punishment for what you've done." The criminal groaned and succumbed to his fatigue as Hanzo removed all the loose items on his being.

Besides a purse full of silver currency and a couple of odd trinkets the thief intended to sell, there wasn't anything of note the thief had tried to make off with. It did remind Hanzo, however, that there was one more person whom hadn't explicitly died - the magician. As he allowed some of the local men to secure the beaten thief, the monk returned to where the fire mage lay unconscious. Already one of the men was observing him, seeing as the figure wasn't bloodied or cold.

"He's just unconscious for now," Hanzo told the person as he approached, who gave a doubtful but appreciative glance at Hanzo. "See if you can get some help to restrain him- tightly, so he can't cast anything." The man nodded with some hesitation, and left to grab something or someone. There certainly wasn't much need for a plain village like this to hold any prisoners, but Hanzo wasn't going to kill them while they were already beaten, nor was he going to allow them to escape and grant them the chance to do more harm. If the village so decided, the criminals might just be put to death in any case, but that wasn't Hanzo's matter.

Loose items from the magician included a potion of 'restoration' and a magical scroll with a emblem in fresh ink. The intricate text on the scroll read that it was an enchantment of barkskin that could be applied permanently to the body, by pressing the ink to the desired spot and reading the enchantment. Hanzo could see it being useful to himself, but he didn't want to use it immediately in case one of the others happened to want it - he wasn't the only one, after all, that went so sparsely armored.

Agnes and Wylsen had personally made accommodations at the inn for the adventurers, a simple gesture of thanks for defending their village. Despite being ever the miser, Hanzo welcomed the offer, but still offered up some of the silver from the bag as payment. Hanzo couldn't help but unleash a tired yawn from the day's efforts; he had a feeling he would rest well in a village he knew he had a part in protecting.

The adventurers retreated to the calm and quiet of the inn, and Hanzo followed. Quietly, he ordered another cup of tea.

[hr]
The sun was already beginning to dip below the horizon as the second group returned to town. Sister Agnes hurriedly called Wylsen out to look, and as he sluggishly did so, Hanzo followed suit. He had almost forgotten about the group Sana had led out to dispatch of the northern camp, and as he saw them return, he could understand why. Drawn by their horses was a large coach wagon, loaded with miserable-looking but thankful people. 

The slaves, Hanzo realized. They had rescued the slaves, not just killed off all the slavers. Now this town was truly a haven.

Not so much exhausted as he was sleepy now, Hanzo waved to the approaching group. Cheers and thanks were shared, and some were eager to retreat to the inn and rest. The adventurers had also brought back a tremendous share of money - the spoils collected by the slavers, most likely. Largely satisfied with the lives they had saved today, Hanzo gave a soft, almost dopey smile, for the first time in a while.