Hugh continued to search frantically from person to person, anyone with a similar hair color was a target for his hand to grab them and turn them to face him. He kept searching through the people, until his attention was grabbed by the human female, Fiona.

Her words made him more at ease as she explained, but he was perplexed. [i]Personal reasons?[/i] He hadn't a clue, but his mind sought through many different possibilities before he shrugged it all off and decided on helping the people out of the little wagon. 

He would offer his hand to the old and feeble; he could scoop up the children in his arms and set them on the ground, gently. He had no idea where to take them, but they were all evidently weaker than he, so Hugh kept up the process till the wagon was empty and the group of refugees headed off in different wayward directions.

Hugh seemed to stand proudly, and had a contented smile on his face at seeing the people free from slavery. He stood for a long time, looking around the town at the different happenings. The bodies had been cleaned off the streets, but not before Hugh could nab a few goodies. He himself was wearing a brand new set of chain mail, and had acquired many other strange trinkets.

He felt slightly thirsty from all of the fighting, so he took out this odd vial and held it to the sky, looking it over. "How bad can it be? My liver is amazing, after all." And so, he popped the cork, and downed the vial. Didn't taste like poison, but it would take enough poison for a horse or a bear to put Hugh down, so he wasn't exactly scared.

The liquid didn't seem particularly nourishing, but he didn't feel any adverse affects from it. "Alright, looks like everything is gonna be okay-" His attention was suddenly diverted towards the sound of hooves and then yelling from one particularly familiar voice.

Hugh turned and faced the direction of the sound and there he saw Sana, galloping on Rodger, with something cradled in her arms. The closer she got the less happy he was to see her, as something seemed to be coming up behind her. "Ahh fuck." He stepped back a ways, as both characters rushed through, Sana coming through first and charging into the Inn. It wasn't long before she was back again and facing down this monstrosity.

It was a towering hell hound bearing none other than an antipaladin. For a moment he wasn't sure whether or not it was a good thing he had left behind being a paladin long ago, but he shrugged that off, as things got far more ugly than had started out.

Hugh was on edge, and drew his falchion the moment he saw the antipaladin charge towards Sana. He felt a little overly confident, watching Sana take on the beast. The thoughts going through his mind were that the demon would be shot off his mount, but he was gravely wrong.

His jaw dropped, and so did his sword, as he watched Sana get thrown against a wall like a rag doll, dropping uselessly. He screamed out in agony, as he watched her fall. 

He rushed to her side, skidding to a stop. He was at a loss for words, as the nun scrambled to save her. There was reference that she was still alive, but barely. Hugh, however, couldn't speak as his mental state seemed to degrade. To him, it looked as though she was dead, and he couldn't hear what anyone was saying, as his ears seemed to suddenly start ringing and his mind began to grow dark with despair.

There was a sword that was strapped to Sana's back, that Hugh hadn't taken note of, as he stared at her. She seemed lifeless, and so did Hugh's eyes at that moment. He felt like all of the life had been crushed out of him, and that now he was losing everything he had to hold onto. As a random unconscious movement, Hugh drew the sword from her back and turned away, diverting his attention towards the hell hound and it's master.

There it was; he had lost it all. He felt empty, as he walked towards the beast, this new large sword in hand. Lifting up the hilt to his face, he spoke several simple words, before holding it with both hands. "He that lives by the sword shall perish by the sword." He spoke these words as a curse upon himself, almost like it was his time to go. Maybe he was cursed; cursed to relive the same agony and anguish for an eternity. Like an affliction from some benevolent god.

Now, the antipaladin had been knocked off his mount and was standing, ready for a showdown with Hugh. Hugh didn't think they would be a good match, nary, Hugh was going to disembowel the dark knight and parade his entrails around the town. He felt focused and as though no pain could bother him at all.

Hugh marched up towards the man, quickly closing the distance, before shouting to draw his attention, "SURPRISE, MUTHA FUCKA!" With that, Hugh swung his sword at the midsection of the antipaladin, bearing it down on him with all of his force.