Vert took the beers she was given with a smile. "You don't gotta slide it, I don't bite... well I don't bite people. I do however bite food same as you." Vert said holding her head steady as the other hand put the beer to her mouth and rank it. "Man that's good!" Vert said with a large smile.

"You guys need to learn that not all monsters want to kill you. Only the ones that are currently attacking you do. Those that don't attack you first, often want nothing to do with you." Vert said hoping to ease the rest of them. That was around the time that the mage from before came towards them. "Yeah, in the future, don't do a kill shot right away, could of killed me." Vert said she knew how powerful that bolt was and it could have killed her if she hadn't dropped her head.

Vert picked up the second beer and drank it just as quickly as the last one. "You really do have the best keg!" Vert said her limbs now starting to loosen. "You know, when I first met you guys, I was just gonna scare ya and steal all your food! But now I'm glad I didn't. The Kingdom of Monsters however isn't always as nice as me. Their nicer than Valstand, but a bit cautious around humans." Vert said with a drunken smile on her face now.

Meanwhile, Jaques took the mug and stared at it. Is this a good idea? Yes. It is a good idea. Yes. He was already technically a criminal in this kingdom for banding up with the outlawed princess. Drinking at his age was nothing compared to that, right? It's time to have fun!

He took a wimpy sip. Hm. Interesting. Well, he'd better drink it all before he wimped out completely. The boy now began to down the mug. When done, he stood still for a second. He hiccuped. This was some kinda of act of passage to him. he could do anything now! He could....Go for another beer. And so he began to sneak one after another. Its like when a child curses for the first time and keeps doing it thinking their cool but really it's just concerning. That was Jaques. The drunk toddler in the room.

"Hmmmmm..." Sergei took another swig, before wiping what spilled out his cheek-hole. The first thing that crossed his mind was to ask for a story singing his praises, but that was rather impossible. Besides, Sergei told his war stories the best himself. And the mercenary wasn't quite in the mood for something bawdy, and blanched at romance. He turned the gold coin in his palm.

"Alright, knife-ears. Take this, and sing me a song about soldiers who don't come home." he flipped the coin through the air, aiming towards the elf's bodice.

Logan allowed Tahra to sleep, only waking her when she started to groan in her sleep like she was having a nightmare. He didn’t ask what it was about, he assumed it was about her mother. He had seen people killed in war but he’d never seen a loved one murdered and the Princess had certainly never seen death before that. Death changes you, and he didn’t want anything about the Princess to change. He had hoped to always be able to protect her – he had failed her last night.

“Since, you found us we need to introduce you to the others and decide together what to do.”

“Princess, I don’t believe that is the best idea. You don’t know these people, how do you know you can trust them?”

“Instinct. You told me to trust my instincts, Logan.”

Tahra was headed to the room where the others were when Logan grabbed her arm with his armored hand. The steel of his gauntlet digging tightly into her skin. “All due respect Princess, but your instincts did not save your mother and I will not allow you to fall to the same fate.

Tahra wrenched herself out of Logan’s grip. “Whether you allow it or not I will make my own decisions.”

Once in the other room Tahra explained who Logan was but she referred to him as Sir MacNair and avoided looking in his direction. “If Sir MacNair was able to find us, it won’t be long before my father’s men do. I would like to go to my mother’s home – to the elves of Selden Forest. I believe we could find allies there. That is for those of you who plan on staying and helping me overthrow my father. I heard some of you mention going elsewhere. The choice is yours, come with me to the Seldenese, stay here, do your own thing, or find allies elsewhere. I will not make you do anything, and I will not hold your choice against you.”

Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the Dullahan, still cautious.

"I don't know. First you say you're harmless, then you admit that you were gonna scare us and take all our food. Well, you enjoy a good beer at least. You're probably alright," said Stephanie, pouring herself some more, "but a kingdom of monsters, huh? Wonder what that's like."

Or more accurately, she wondered what exclusive goods she could obtain. Monsters seemed an insulated bunch. If she could somehow obtain exclusive trade rights with them, and if they had some good unique items, she could make a gold mine. It was something to consider.

Stephanie grabbed her lute from the back, which she hadn't used in a while, and began tuning it after Sergei made his request.

"Alright, old man. You're about to see what else my impressive throat can accomplish," said Stephanie, playing a few melancholy notes before launching into a performance.

"Let me tell you the story
Of a man named Charlie
On a tragic and fateful day
With ten copper in his pocket
He kissed his wife and family
And rode out to war that way

But did he ever return,
No, he never returned
And his fate is still unlearned
He may ride forever
On the roads to Nightvell
He's the man who never returned"

This went on for a few verses as presumably the crowd got more and more drunk. While Stephanie had a good pair of pipes and was technically a pretty good singer, she was still an untrained amateur. Enough to impress a drunken crowd, perhaps, but no professional venue. Oddly enough, the huge amount of alcohol in her system didn't seem to affect her performance. Despite her small stature, she could really hold her drink.

Sadly, before she could hear her well-deserved applause, the princess came outside with some guy he had never seen before. She waved at the woman.

"Hey, forget that stuff for tonight! It's your birthday, so I'm gonna get you drunk," Stephanie shouted, stumbling over to the princess with a mug full of beer, "chug it!"

After that performance, the boy began to clap over enthusiastically. Jaques was being over enthusiastic about everything. He let out some praises like,"Oh OH that wasss beautiful!" And things similar to that.

When he saw the princess and the man enter, he called out,"Oh hey princesssss and friend..!!" After she spoke, he then said obnoxiously,"I tthink I wannna sstay here..and parrrty!! I feeel grreat!"

When the merchant then offered the princess a drink, he ran up beside the woman and began to chant enthusiastically,"Yeaah princcesss!! Chug it chug it chug it!!! It'sss yer birrthday!!!"

Avad, having consumed two or three mugs of beer, was just drunk enough that his emotions were beginning to run unchecked. He would chide himself the day after with a this happens every time and you know it!, but for the moment, he was fighting back tears at the merchant's song. While he certainly wasn't warforged like Sergei, and certainly hadn't been through as many battles or as much pain, he'd still his share of the atrocities of war. At the siege of Nightvell Castle, his entire squadron had been slaughtered by a brutal curse, leaving him alone among the corpses of his comrades and friends. He found himself humming (badly, but mercifully quietly) along to the last few verses.

Then Tahra and Logan MacNeil came out of the abandoned mansion. Stumbling as he attempted a standing salute, Avad seemed to have forgotten entirely that he was no longer wearing his military robes, and, in all likelihood, the knight would have no idea who he was. Instead, he decided that the best possible of all solutions would be to address him as a military officer. "Surr Logn Mcneel..." He squinted suddenly, "why're you here 'gain?"

He stumbled sideways again, barely managing to catch himself before reseating himself. As the merchant (who had rapidly become his favorite person in the world for providing this much beer at a time this appropriate and the young boy stated the fact, he realized again that it was his charge's birthday. He lurched to her, gripping around her shoulders with a madcap grin that one would more likely see on the face of one half his age, and slurred a few words of power before motioning loopily in the air. His grin widened as the mug in his hand shook slightly, and he gave only a second or so of warning before he poured the rest of his fourth mug over her head. The beer had become a cloudy gray-gold and gave off a gentle mist. Taken by his own incautiously-conjured magic, he wrapped his arm tighter and cheered, lifting the empty mug to the sky.

As one might be able to tell...Avad did not often drink. It seldom ended well.

Vert watched as the others seemed to be happily drinking their fill. "Sure not all monsters are great, but you know what, you want ever find better tasting wine and jams from em!" Vert said now obviously drunk. "You know what else? I forget to give my name this entire time! I am Vert Kopfless! Born into a Dullahan family!" Vert then turned her attention to the princess who the others said it was her birthday. "Birthday huh? Where I'm from Dullahans have grand parties for a different part of our lives! Some call it Chopping day! That's when we get our heads cut off you know!" Vert said taking another drink of her beer before raising it into the sky.

"And on Chopping day, you get the chance to juggle the heads of your friends, then if your lucky, they barf on the ground!" Vert said before laughing. Her laughter echoed as it came from both her head and where her head should be. "So a Birthday huh? Not quite as impressive as chopping day, but still exciting. Oh I forgot to introduce someone else. This Horse here! His name is Steve!" Vert said introducing Steve who seemed a little mad at her for being so drunk now.

"So! I think maybe we should get some rest soon, don't wanna get AHEAD of our selves here right?" Vert said, she was a very VERY talkative drunk. "Say boy, I know it's your first time drinking an all, but don't lose your head over this eh?" Vert stated to the boy who was obviously too young to be drinking.

The dullahan's joke made the the boy let out a hardy laugh after hearing it. "HA Ha haa....That'ss the funniesst thing i hearrd alll day! But imma do what imma want! Y'know whyy?? Cuz imma f***in princcessss!" Yep. Of course, from how the kid said it, just made him sound like the blackout drunk that he was, so it didn't sound serious. "Annd thiss princessss..hic...iss gonnna find m'sself aa chamber pot. And with that, he stumbled out of the room, found a chamber pot. there were distant sounds of hurling.

maybe after a few minutes, he stumbled along back. "WhoOO that felllt awfulll" He announced. The world began to soon spin more than it had been in his eyes as he collapsed to the floor, passing out. Thank goodness. If he stayed awake any longer he was probably going to be headed for another drink.

After leaving Tahra on her own Ian went to find Darius again. They were both out standing on a makeshift platform that allowed them to peak over the wall without being noticed, and they could see an rather unwelcome sight. Ian spoke first "How could the guard have found us out already, it's only been a few hours?"

"Maybe if those friends of your weren't having a godsdamned party right outside the house. Did they even realize how close this place was to the castle" Darius had been grumbling ever since they arrived about how they were going to ruin the safehouse, seems he was right as just up the street aways was a contingent of the Royal Guard heading right down toward their little haven. "Maybe they're just passing by, a show of force after the escape?" That notion was quickly struck down when a bolt flew past their heads and they both ducked below the wall. "you'd best get to the tunnel. I've got to go burn the stores" with that they both ran in different directions.

Ian was heading to warn the other's and see if any are even capable of getting away at this point, along the way nearly stumbling over a passed out Jaques "Guy, we need to-oh for the love of..." He quickly threw the small boy over his shoulder and looked to the princess "Tahra, we need to move, we might've overestimated how safe this place was for a group this big" as if on queue the guard outside began banging on the gate that lead into the courtyard "We need to leave now, there's another way out of here around back" He motioned for her and the knight with her to follow before taking off around the house.

At the same time the gate finally gave in and the soldiers of the Royal Guard began to come through, easily spotting the group of drunkards and moving to try and capture them. Their numbers were too much to fend off, leaving only one option for anyone that wasn't too drunk to stand.

Sergei swore under his breath, cursing the guards, the king, the princess who'd brought them here, and whatever god he'd pissed off that day. He wanted to nurse his beer and listen to that knife-ear sing some more.
Fortunately, however, the guards were funneling and Sergei was sober. He began to devise an appropriately cruel plan.

"Elf, I've need of two more things. After that, take your cart somewhere safe from their spears." he threw another gold coin at her, to pay for the wares.

As the guards began to bang on the gate, he lifted the hem of his surcoat to his teeth and tore off a strip, messily poking it into his glass flask of whiskey.

The knight hefted his hastily made molotov, and circled around to the other side of the wagon. He reached in, and pulled out his next purchase: a large cask of lantern oil. A devilish smile split his cheeks as he took his dagger, and jabbed several holes in the small barrel's lid. Next, he hefted it in one arm, and slung it at the gate. The iron bars broke the wooden cask, splattering the black fluid on the guards outside as the lock threatened to give way to their ram.

Sergei took a lantern from the cart, and gently lit it, then used it to start his molotov.
"Hey, you lot ever take a castle?" he asked giddily. "It's a test of endurance. When you greenhorns jump the gun and charge straightaway, it never turns out well."
When the gate slammed open, and the knights broke through, he hurled the molotov like a fastball at the group, setting the oil ablaze.

Stephanie had already rushed to start packing when Sergei had tossed her the coin. They were on a noble's estate near the manse, and given the vastness of the land, even if they could have been heard from the road, there was no way the guards could have pinpointed them so precisely. They hadn't even lit their lanterns, for God's sake. So then how did they manage to pick this place out?

It was a noble's estate. They would never have barged in wordlessly, destroyed property to get inside, unless their intel was absolute. This was only common sense. Thus, the thief must have screwed up somewhere. His man at the gate likely wasn't as loyal as he had imagined, or his contact at the estate was duplicitous. Given their proximity to the castle and the amount of time they were there, however, the latter seemed likely.

"Leave it to a named thief to botch a job this hard," she grunted, jumping into her wagon as Sergei lit the guards ablaze and hurrying her horse forward.

"Wizard, climb aboard from the back! Work crowd control! Vert, you and Steve ride alongside George to keep him on course! I'll man the crossbow and pick off the chasers! Move!" Stephanie commanded, grabbing her crossbow.

Panic had a way of making anybody, even Avad, drop his buzz.

Grunting in irritation at the interruption, he climbed on back of the wagon, yelling "On it!" before tracing a sign in the air and mouthing a few words. The fire was enveloped in a blast of vapor, glowing from the inside with a hellish light. Then, grimacing at the impending headache, he flipped out his spellbook, turning to a page covered in runic lettering and beginning to recite a lengthy spell, focusing less on raw power and almost entirely on razor-fine control over the magic's direction. He had a very clear idea of what he wanted it to do.

Eventually, the fires went out, and he released the magic, tracing half a dozen sigils back-to-back before him. There was a tremendous thunderclap as storm clouds began to build thirty or so feet over, and twice as much in front of, the pained, burned, blinded guards. Another thunderclap and a lancet of lightning, and then the real fun started: an immensely powerful wind blew nearly horizontal, forcing utterly torrential rains, ice-cold and lashing like tiny daggers, into the hapless troop. He nearly dropped the spellbook at the sudden energy expenditure as the intense wind wiped out the fog, reestablishing line of sight.

Rhythmically chanting a three-word spell of lightning several times, "Achmat elike monâven," he forced them to stay down unless they wanted to be electrocuted. As he felt his energy, which had been vastly depleted even prior to the exceedingly long stormcalling, peter down, he screwed his eyes shut, ramming the last of his magical energy—into another overdraw, he understood, grimacing—straight into a heavy raincloud that followed behind the cart, turning the dirt of the road behind them into a thick, gluey trail of mud. Blinking owlishly at the sudden fatigue and headache, he toppled backwards into the cart, fighting to remain conscious.

Vert was a bit shocked to see guards coming at them all of a sudden. She was surprised at what was happening enough so that it forced her to focus through the haze her drunken mind was inducing. She heard the merchant tell her to keep George going straight with Steve. "You got it!" Vert said running to Steve and hopping on him. As she rode forward while guiding George she latched her head into a sort of harness she had on herself. Not have a neck made her rather nauseating sure, but she had learned to live with such a thing and having to carry her head often meant she only had one hand to use freely. By having her head in a harness like the one she had it would allow her to use both hands.

As Vert was starting to get George moving she felt a sharp pain in her back. She picked up her head from the harness to look at her back, there was an arrow in it. It hadn't hit any vitals but it still hurt like hell. One of the stranger things about Vert compared to other Dullahans was that when in pain, she would start to laugh. It was unsettling even to monsters in her kingdom. As the pain started to settle Vert started to laugh, it echoed from where her head should be to the point where it started to be thrown throughout the area. Her laughter was luckily good at distracting as some of the guards were confused by the dust kicking up and now the sound on Vert's laughter. "Would of loved to a few you know. Spines like theirs must make some pretty get weapons. Could get some good money for those." Vert said through her laughter.

As Sergei's molotov hit the front the guards as the came through the gate any that took the brunt of it backed off to try and extinguish themeselves and any that only had parts of their uniform burning simply dropped the cloth parts off their armor, as the mercenary made his taunt about tests of endurance they where already forming a shield wall and advancing through the flames again.

They were slowed again by Avad's magic but the majority of his efforts were thwarted by the fact that Valstand had more than one Royal battlemage, almost as soon as the winds started they were snuffed before they could cause much disruption and several of the guards held up their spears as lightning rods to prevent the lightning from wreaking to much havoc among them with their mages worked to dispell those clouds as well

While those were still valiant efforts it was pure folly to try for the cart, as in the enclosed estate the only way out was currently through a small army of guardsmen. Though Vert did cause some slight hesitation, as a few of the guards stopped in confusion for a moment before realizing what she was. With crossbowmen taking aim again and the area in which Steve, George, and the cart had to move was being gradually closed off by spearpoint, things weren't exactly looking up.

From nearby the voice of Wledic, that Captain of the royal guard, rang out "Throw down your weapons! you've no hope of getting out from here" He was standing on the same platform Ian had been on earlier to get of view of the group, it also gave him notice of Avad "Avadodren Ichen Onem, you of all people should know how foolish it would be to fight back now!"

---

Ian had gone around and opened the hidden hatch to a tunnel dug out for, well, this very reason. both Tahra and Logan had followed him at least and he carefully set Jaques unconscious body down before looking back. He had expected that more of them would follow him to escape instead of trying to take on the Royal-bloody-guard head-on. Well, he supposed that the silver lining would be that they made a good distraction. Between the action of that skirmish and the mansion now beginning to catch fire he wasn't going to wait any longer, hopping down and sealing the hatch behind him. In response to a questioning look from Tahra he just shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands. This most certainly complicated things.

Avad laughed, though he still faint faint. Gallows humor.

"Please, Wledic. You remember me from a decade back? Well, I'm going maverick again."

His mind raced as much as it could, analyzing the situation from every tactical standpoint. Okay. Surrounded by a small unit of guardsmen. Approximately twenty-five, if I had to guess. His face scanned the crowd. One High Battlemage, Anton Vedvoin. Specializes in ice and storm magic. So that's where my clouds went. Two Battlemages, brother and sister; Erin and Serra Nolindin. Both specialize in fire. Ten or so spearmen. Spears are useful in nullifying electricity. About that many sword-and-shield knights. Metal sheilds are a weak point. They conduct electricity. All are dressed in metal armor. Major weak point. I'm nearly out of innate magic, but there's a Vedlyn stone in my spellbook I've been charging for six years. If there ever was a time to use it, it was now.

He reached out to his spellbook, opening it to the back cover and yanking a large blue-white gem out. It glowed with a brilliant blue light, and he palmed it, forcing himself to breathe deeply. As he took cover in case of magic—no archers among the troops—he began to channel the energy from the stone into himself. The headache receded, and with it the faintness. He ground out to his allies, "everybody hold on to something and plug your ears!" before forcing all of the considerable energy that had been in the stone into a single spell.

"Achmat atial venedin altolis manahasta irredire verelest na'in!"

A shockwave of lightning raced out from him along the ground. No stormclouds for Anton, no fire for Erin or Serra. The lightning arced up the metal armor worn by all the guards except the battlemages, electrocuting them where they stood. Then, a second or so after, there was an intense wave of sound as a thunderclap exploded from beneath them, launching the guards several feet into the air. His hands, occupied with sigil-tracing, were unable to plug his ears, and the sound shredded his eardrums, leaving him in immense pain and deafness. The shockwave knocked him back from where he was standing at the edge of the cart, cannoning him back into the side. Through all the pain, though, before unconsciousness grabbed him, he shouted out one phrase:

"Go! Ride!"

Then nothingness.

Sergei whistled as a blast of lightning rocketed past his ear, knocking the guards to the ground as it fried their flesh and stopped their hearts. He let out a low, cruel laugh, wishing he'd taken the time to outfit his own armies with something so hideous. Still, the trio of mages still stood. Sergei yanked out his war sword, lifting the stained, heavy blade above his head.

Spittle flew from his teeth as he dashed through. Three, wearing robes befitting mages; wizards needn't have heavy armor to throw off their arm movements or risk conducting magical energies and causing blowback. On the other hand, they provided zero protection from a blade or mace. One of the two lower ranked mages tossed out a fireball, which Sergei swatted with his sword, deflecting it to the side. He brought it down into the first, cleaving through the collarbone and lodging it in her ribcage.

"A woman?!" Sergei spat in shock. There was no time to think about such things, however. He let go of his sword and, as the first mage crumpled, launched a ferocious haymaker towards the other firemage's jaw, stunning him. This gave him the few seconds he needed to dislodge his sword, using his boot for leverage.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA~!" he laughed, thrusting it through Erin's gut. He spun around, maneuvering him between himself and the third mage, some ice wizard. Sergei's veins bulged as he lifted the mage into the air, screaming, and ran forth. The body served as a sufficient shield from a flurry of ice needles until the last few feet, when Sergei lifted him into the air, and threw the body off his sword, knocking Anton to the ground.

With the last pinned down by the body of his former comrade, Sergei had ample opportunity to deliver the coup de grace, a mighty chop that cleaved through the High Battlemage's skull.

Now covered in wizard blood and thoroughly satisfied that he'd killed the enemy, Sergei ran his fingers through his hair. He'd have to find a nice way to present the bodies later. For now, he turned back to the house, and pointed his sword at the platform Wledric still stood on.

"Your men are almost as weak as you are, and now they're dead! I've taken pity, so here are my terms: throw down your weapons and come down, and I'll grant you a quick death. But if I have to come up there, I'll splatter your pieces up and down this courtyard!"

Vert rode next to the cart with Steve at a much faster pace now as she guided George towards the exit. As they were leaving though Vert grabbed Sergei by his collar and dragged him onto the cart. "Leave some of em alive, we want the kingdom to know who we are. They might go after us more instead of the princess." Vert said her head facing him instead of what was in front of her. She turned her head back forward again and guided the cart outside of the mansion and towards a wooded area.

"Now as for the rest of you, we need to get out of the city, and find somewhere to lick our wounds. I really need to get this arrow out of me so I can get it healing. Gonna take about a day to do that for me. Does anyone know of any caves in this area? Hell if you guys have an idea of where the local goblins are I may be able to convince them to let us hide out with them for a day or two." Vert said as she faced forward the guided George towards what looked to be a forest. At least the tree cover would help to hide them.

Vert knew that the kingdom of monsters was much too far off for them to find a chance to rest there, but having the help of the local monsters would certainly help. Though that highly depended on whether they were friendly or not with other monsters like her. If they weren't then they could be killed.

"Like I care." Sergei spat, snatching up Stephanie's crossbow, leaving the crank on the ground. Grabbing the string, he braced it with his foot, and used all the muscles in his back to draw it. As Wledric grew smaller, he spitefully braced it in the crook of his elbow, briefly aiming before releasing the trigger.

They were too far away to see if he'd hit or not.

He tossed the weapon back down, and sat in the bed as the dullahan began to prattle about finding help from the monsters outside society.
"Wouldn't suggest going towards any monster bands." he called out, taking a seat beside Stephanie. "I've burned more than my share of demihuman villages."

"Goblins, especially, are considered a nuisance. We'd send out a band every other week or so, just to make sure there weren't any nest outside our farms." he grinned. "They're really small. You can stick three on a pike, then leave that as a warning for the others not to get to close to your domain."

Stephanie steeled herself as she peered out the back of her cart from the front, crossbow in hand. The way their formation worked out, the only ones likely to get hurt were Vert and the vet, and Stephanie wasn't even sure Vert got hurt. As for the old man, well, he was just as terrifying as the Dullahan in battle.

Before she could really take a shot, however, their wizard buffeted the opposition with powerful spells, and Vert let out a bone-chilling laugh that almost made her drop the crossbow right there. When their combined efforts seemed to amount to nothing, however, and it looked as if they would be captured for certain, the wizard advised them all to plug their ears. She did, and the opponent was almost completely obliterated. The vet savagely murdered the stragglers, mostly mages, and Vert grabbed him and shot out the gate. The old man snatched Stephanie's crossbow, which still hadn't been fired, and took a pot shot.

All of this swirled and mixed together in Stephanie's head, and she couldn't tell if it was all real or a nightmare. She wanted to hide. She hadn't asked for this. She thought she was prepared, but this was on a different level than anything she had experienced before. Was this war? How does someone come back OK from that?

Then they were in a forest. Slowly her cognition returned, and with it the old man saying something about sticking three bodies on a pike as a warning.

"They're looking for the princess, aren't they?" Stephanie asked, rubbing her throbbing forehead, "Well, we aren't her. And anyone who got close enough to us to see our faces in the dark is dead. Nobody is going to bother with us. Although... the wizard did confirm his identity to that Wledic guy. He stood too far off to see the rest of us, but by now everyone must know that old Thunderspells is working against the kingdom. As long as we hide him well, we should be able to leave safely. The problem is having our cart inspected. It's probably going to be thorough now. Maybe disguises?"

Stephanie sighed and lay back in her seat, imagining that it was yet another carefree day of trade where her life wasn't in constant danger.