Hawks eye widened and spittle festered in the corner of his mouth as he tipped slowly toward the orc brandishing the knife, a big and crude thing, but a weapon none the less. "P-Please Orc friend, take my knofe...Much better, shinnie and special!" He pushed his knife into the orcs hand and took the Orcs knife from him, placing it on the counter, blade side facing the Barmen. The Orc stared for a moment at Hawk and smiled mischievously then his eyes slowly crawled over to settle on Zephyr, who appeared to be entranced by his own hands.

"Now I can curt 'em real good!" The Orc said as he stood from his chair, the knife raised in the air slightly. As his foot met the ground and a soft glint of light shifted along the ground, a reflection of the hearths fire, Hawk grabbed the Orcs wrist and hand in both hands and pushed the blade - which was already close to his neck - into his jugular vein. AS the first drop of blood squeezed through the hair thin cut, Hawk pushed the body backward, taking his knife as it toppled into the other two Orcs.

In an instant the Barmen span on his feet and made for the back door, guilty men always run, but Hawk knew guilty men all too well. Reaching for the Orcs knife he flicked his wrist and flung his forearm out with it, sending the blade spiraling into the Barmens back.

Pulling his Bow from his back, Hawk readied an arrow, and turned back to the Orcs to see what his companion had added to the action.