@Claw2k11Maryvale did not feel fear - saying so
is a violation of standard roleplay rules would mean she was not worthy in the eyes of the Grand Marshal. Instead, she called this feeling...
awareness. The body's innate ability to detect insurmountable danger and perceive it as such was such a wonderful ability, because it gave her thought of what to do.
Of course she couldn't run; running was out of the question for all of them. After all, they were doing this for the Grand Marshal. If they weren't willing to sacrifice themselves for his cause, they were better off dead. She expected no less from her small team of capable warriors. Besides, she had three trump cards that Death's Best Friend might not have considered. Even if he was strong and wielding the strongest of the Universal Blades, he still had to deal with a dragon, Anna's bow, and Maryvale herself with her own blade, Dark Vibrance. Like Hell she was going to lose to death, after coming so far, surviving so long...
"So you've come," spoke Maryvale in her own set of midnight black armour, "it certainly took you long enough, Midnight the Eternal." She speaks with a complete and total level of calm and authority. She was projecting control through her behaviour - something her team mates would need if they were to stand up to the person before them, who was essentially a demi-god.
She draws her own blade slowly. In comparison to Darkstalker, Dark Vibrance could only deal a fraction of it's power if it sapped all of Maryvale's strength. However, the blade itself was tough; so much so, in fact, it could hold it's own in a simple sword fight against any of the Universal Blades and likely endure just as much damage as they would. It was magic that was the real problem, since Maryvale's blade wasn't capable of retaining it's own power like the other weapons. Even so, they had their other two trump cards for that. "I hope you're ready to return to the afterlife, Midnight. Or, better yet, The Void - it would suit you quite nicely, wouldn't it?"
She quickly glances at her comrades to see if they were ready to fight, without losing focus of the armoured man before her.
As the great Orc enters the inn, he's greeted in a rather... impolite manner. It appears those inside were startled by his presence and the fact it shook the entire building, and as such were just slightly pissed. Especially those who had just been awoken from a good night's rest by some asshole demanding to hand over their new sword...
"Dude, what da fuck?!" Exclaims a young man with a sword, who was accompanied by who looks to be his twin brother. Well, the two were alike enough to be twins, anyway. "Can you NOT? I haven't even had my coffee, yet!"
"Riz, I don't think talking to the Orc man who just shook the entire building by appearing from nowhere is a smart idea..." His brother replies, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder. He looks towards the Orc with kind eyes, though a bit inquisitive. "Excuse me, sir? Mind toning it down for the folks here? I'd rather not have a fight start out in such a nice inn." He speaks calmly and with a bit of an accent. A naive country boy, maybe, but not as naive as his brother. "You're looking for a swo-"
"He's looking for this..." Their own Orc friend speaks in a low tone that seems almost like a growl, as he turns around, revealing the Demon Sword. "But just because he wants it, doesn't mean he can have it..." The Orc grins smugly. He was definitely one of the stronger Orcs around... and perhaps the only one aside from the Watcher, himself, and the barista.
@Simple UnicycleWell, there was only one person sharing the room with him, so assumptions could be made as to who it was. Though, the fact nobody replied would likely be a little unnerving...
... Especially as the water that trickled out the doorway turned red...
As though a bad situation couldn't get any worse, what sounds like a thunder strike emits from just outside the inn, sending a powerful shock wave throughout that rattles the building (and the ears) for a few moments. A few seconds later, there's shouting downstairs. Rather hostile shouting, from the sounds of things.
It must've been a Monday. The worst shit always happens on a Monday.