[hp change noted]
Sheva watched in apprehension as the "conductor" of this chaos took the time to quaff something from a tube and quickly leave the cage area. He then appeared to lock the exit. She shifted her focus to put the Shere outside the cage with him and grinned briefly as the flaming orb made contact with him, eliciting a vocal reaction and a scowl. She then clamped down on her concentration as she saw flames erupt from his growling lips and jet toward her.

She took a quick step sideways (5') and leaned as much as possible, in attempt to avoid as much damage as she could. But she was still singed by the flames as they washed over her left side. Sheva was relieved to realize that, although struck and aching from the burns caused by the jet of flame, she was not incapacitated. She would tend to those burns later.


[Concentration check?]
[If check is successful or not needed] Keeping her eyes on the breather of fire, she pushed the fiery globe against him yet again, hoping to set his clothing ablaze.

[If check is UNsuccessful] Growling herself as she lost control and concentration, she pulled out of her component pouch an adder's stomach, stuffed with powdered rhubarb leaf and tied, then skewered it with a small dart she also brought forth from the pouch. Then she heard the sounds of music and a haunting melodic chant as they began to reach her. She turned her head to glance briefly at this new source, who seemed to be using a method she recognized from past association. But Sheva narrowed her eyes as she tiurned to face her intended target, the faceless one that seemed to be a caster as well. No-Face and the Music-Man seemed to be focusing on the pair of women nearest Sheva, both of whom were putting up a brave and effective fight. Sheva began the incantation to create an arrow of acid to direct at No-Face. Ever-willing to test her mettle spell-for-spell, she continued her incantation, rolling the small dart skewering the herp packet between her palms, and made to aim at the caster ...

[Melf's Acid Arrow for two rounds of contact]
[Regardless of Concentration Check]
Even through that concentration and the din surrounding her, Sheva heard a voice that seemed to be raised in supplication or prayer from one of the two women near her, a voice that contained a lilting quality. Still, she tried to maintain her concentration to keep her attacks effective and distract what ever opponent she chose, or keep that opponent concentrating on her. She knew, on some level, that she herself was toast if she was attacked, but would not yet take the time to cast a defensive spell. She had come in with the advantage of surprise and intended to use that advantage to its fullest extent.

[OOC: ... !o.o! soooo many choices ... ! ]

Xaris held Artanis so as to try and ea her pain. The gnome was genuinely concerned for his companion. Though hi timely arrival and potin had helped to heal some of her wounds, the pain would linger on for some time unless more magical aid could be sought. The stranger who had dragged Artanis and the child from the dangers of the collapsing building, handed the somewhat pacified infant back to his presumed mother and rushed off to see what other aid he could offer.


The woman who had grabbed for everyone’s attention in the first place finally broke through the crowd to Artanis’ side, her eyes awash in openly flowing tears; a mixture of sadness for her losses but overwhelming joy for the safe return of her daughter Maribelle.

“Thank you, oh thank heavens, my Maribelle.” She quickly plucked up her child clutching it to her breast, cooing at her daughter and looking around before another realization sank in. “Oh Mr Wuggles, and oh my god the others!” The woman notied the tears running freely fom the warrior woman’ face, but could find no words of encouragement. She stared with lost eyes on her and Xaris for but a moment, before turning away in silence to slip back into the crowd.

Talus approached the member of the fire brigade, requesting additional wands; unfortunately he only had the one, as Castle Tethyr had not seen a blaze of this magically enhanced nature in many years. It was heartwarming to see however, as townsfolk began to arrive with buckets, cups, barrels and every item capable of holding water, They gathered in a line tossing what meager help they could over the burning building, while the wand wielder continued to douse the rooftop and escaping gouts with his create water spells. Despite a diligent effort, the blaze would burn for another hour, and use the entirety of the wand before the flames eventually consumed themselves, and all that was left was a billowing pillar of dark smoke into the early morning air, serving as a beacon for miles around that signified the loss of life and home within.

~~**~~
(Allow for backposts, within the hour timespan)

" Don't get up too fast now Artanis, let the mending work its way through. You’re still pretty hurt."
She smiled at Xaris, reaching up and patting his face weakly. “No need to worry about me, Xaris. This is nothing compared to the blast that tried to turn me into a crispy critter.” A short coughing fit cut off her chuckle, and she grew serious again. “At any rate, I’m not as weak as all that.”
Artanis groaned slightly as the stranger helped her to sit up. “Thank you.” She took the baby back into her arms gingerly, wincing slightly as her bones and muscles protested.

"That potion seems to have you on the mend already."
With a slight nod of her head, she replied, “Yes. The potion has helped. Thank you for having pulled us away from there.” Her head tilted in the direction of the fire.

“My name is Artanis. This is Xaris. It was two of our companions, Kasenerrion and Loriel, that were claimed by that fire.” Her eyes closed and her voice cracked as she spoke their names. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and sighed.

(leaving room for any possible response and back-posting)

Artanis watched, with Xaris, as the man went over to the member of the Fire Brigade. She watched in dismay as the fire continued to burn. “There is no way we can get them out of there for a proper burial.” She thought sadly.

" I could get more potions Artanis, or we could try to get you out of here now. Your call."
She thought about that for a moment, and was about to answer that she’d stay since she still had the child. However, the child’s mother suddenly emerged from the crowd of people to reclaim her daughter.

“Thank you, oh thank heavens, my Maribelle!”
Artanis smiled up at the woman as she grabbed her child. “You have a very beautiful daughter, Ma’am. I am only glad that she is ok.”
Artanis watched the touching reunion as the woman cooed and awed at her daughter. Then the realization sunk in on the woman that the others had been lost. It seemed as though she tried to find something to say, but was unable to. Instead, the woman simply slipped back into the crowd and was gone. Artanis looked up at Xaris curiously at that, then back in the direction the woman had gone off in.

After a moment, Artanis looked up at Xaris again. “I’ll come with you to get those potions. I don’t think I can be of any assistance until I’ve had at least one more of your potions.”
((Once they’ve retrieved the potions, and Artanis has consumed at least one, if the fight against the flames is still ongoing, she will return with whatever container she can find filled with water to assist in any way she can.

Unless, of course, the devious DM has some other sort of thing in mind for them during their trip back to the Inn and the potions))

Somewhere else, while flames flicker away outside, fires raged inside as well. Linnix was seeing red. Gone was the delicate woman who had danced under the candle light and in her place was a woman filled with the need to inflict pain and agony. She lashed out at the orc before her, once again the thin blade darting in and stinging the orc like the stinger of a hornet. (-4) The Orc, for the first time started breathing a little heavier. Perhaps finally the multiple small wounds were all catching up with the orc’s considerable fortitude.

Aelistae flinched back as the magically strengthened Orc flexed its increased muscles at her and hefted his club in preparation for another strike. With a quick step backwards, Aelistae fell into a spell. She pulled from the Orc’s mind memories of his cruel upbringing, the stinging pain of the lash and the flame reddened brands as he was beaten and molded into servitude. Though Aelistae couldn’t see what was going through the Orc’s mind, she knew her spell had a visible effect on the brutish creature, as he shook visibly for a moment, before losing all composure and running from the room, drawing a cursed “Fool” from the featureless mage who turned on the women once more.

Nash took a vicious blow to the side, a short sword slipping past his guard and stabbing deeply in his side. He grunted in pain, but that grunt turned into a seething scream as his entire body began to ‘burn’ in a brackish black and purple flame, much akin to the visible effects of a faerie fire spell, only much more sinister looking. Those standing around him were momentarily shocked by the transformation, as Nash’s colorless eyes flickered with an unholy hellfire. With a low, creepy chuckle in a voice that surely didn’t belong to the Nash Aelistae knew and loved, he set to work in a blur of steel in a fury that left blood and ichors spraying in a grim circle of death around him. One, two, three of his attackers fell to his vicious blade as it cut a swath across and through them, continuing its deadly path unhindered by such paltry things as armor, flesh or bone. The whip wielding woman shrieked at the horror before her, and she too ran for the door. She barely managed to lift the thick black curtain in the doorway before her back and chest exploded in a spine shattering geyser of blood. As Nash finished his cleave, he brought the sword over his head and let it fly with a feral scream. The magical double blade flew end over end with amazing accuracy considering the weight differential in the lengths of the two blades. As it blast through the woman’s back, the longer blade leading the skewer, the sheer force of the impalement, dragging her down as the crossguard lodged in her back and the blade stuck at an odd angle in the ground. The woman slumped over, her blood running down the length of the fine blade to pool at the ground, her body suspended while the magical double blade stood sturdy like a cross in the doorway, her body blocking easy escape.

“Hehehe, you have been tried, judged, and found guilty of sins beyond repent” came a voice laced with infernal undertones.

Sheva meanwhile was racing through the concentration needed to command her flaming sphere while also casting a new spell of her own, as both “No-Face and Music-Man” as she called them moved through incantations of their own. Her laming sphere moved once more against the auctioneer, but this time he managed to dodge around it and he charged Aelistae to replace the Orc which had fled.
The faceless mage’s spell was released first, another pair of magical force darts flying directly towards Aelistae, however they shot over her shoulder and slammed into Sheva (11/22 hp) The mage was staggered as the burning darts bit into her, but gritted her teeth and returned spell for spell with a searing arrow of acid, a trail of stinging green smoke streaking behind it as it impacted the mage, burning into him.

The half elf, who had realized the tables were slowly turning, thumbed a fancy button on his doublet, and pulling it free and throwing it to the ground before him, it exploded in a brief flash of light, and when the glare died down, he was nowhere to be found, hopefully gone for good.

The few remaining patrons in the room had scattered along the side walls, trying to keep away from the man who fought like a warrior possessed, while the Calims***e lunged at his charge at Aelistae whie the orc fighting Linnix swung out in a pain induced rage. Incredibly, both women were able to twist and bend around the incoming weapons, and even more amazing, the Calims***e’s mighty falchion impacted the club of the orc, almost skewering it in half, the top half of the wooden cudgel splintered and dangling by a few wooden fibres.

(3 more random patrons + no face + orc + calims***e left)

Having no way to start helping immediately, Talus waited until he could reach a decently sized piece of wood at the edge of the fire. After thoroughly dousing the wood, he began using it as a poker to make sure that the few parts of the structure that still stood weren't going to collapse on any of the volunteer workers. He didn't feel like he was doing much, in fact he spent more time waiting for the flames to be quelled than actually testing the walls, but he was contributing to the effort. He was helping. And as the flames diminished, so too did his doubts about humanity.

As the work neared its end, Talus spotted Artanis among the ash covered workers and approached the woman. "You seem to be well on the road to recovery. That gnome friend of yours...Zoris?... either has quite the knack for the healing arts or has several more of those potions stashed away somewhere."

Talus wipes some of the soot from his face and smiles warmly. "I'm sorry for earlier. I did not mean to be rude and ignore you, I was... lost in thought. My name is Talus Er..." The first syllable of his family name caught in his throat and his smile faded for a second. What if word of my family's depravities has spread this far? Unlikely, but no reason to risk associating myself with a rumor.
His smile returned just as quickly as it had gone and, clearing his throat, he continued, "...just Talus. I admire your bravery in running into a burning building to save the child of a perfect stranger. You don't see that kind of selflessness much anymore." Talus paused, as if unsure of himself, then slowly added, "Forgive me being so bold, but I wondered if I might impose and ask to travel with you and your companions for a time?
A look of sudden realization shot across his face and he quickly said, "Not that I'm, uh, trying to replace the friends that you just lost... it's that I just... Well and, and you... ...you know, nevermind. Bad timing, sorry. Forget that I asked."

Something was wrong.

It was not the tide of battle since it had already begun to turn against the slavers. Whatever images had run through the muscle-bound orc’s mind after Aelistae had cast her spell had sent the creature running in terror. His companion, facing Linnix, was finally beginning to succumb to the numerous wounds that littered his torso, and even the feature-less wizard was beginning to flag.

No, it was Nash.

“Nau…,” Aelistae whispered, her voice choking with the fear and horror that she felt as the man’s form contorted in pain and then metamorphosed into a cruel parody of what he had been. There was no more kindness in Nash’s eyes or his face but a dark, malevolence that reveled in the slaughter it wreaked. Aelistae had seen such things before. She knew what the cause was. And it scared her.

A swing from the auctioneer suddenly whistled at her head, and Aelistae barely twisted away in time to avoid the blow. Had the human been more skilled he would have killed her while her mind was elsewhere. But he wasn’t, and he hadn’t, and Aelistae was determined not to repeat her mistake.

OOC: A simple melee attack at the orc (if she can reach it). Otherwise she'll attack the auctioneer.

Xaris smiled as Artanis regained her strength, and said that he did not need to worry about her. He was glad that she was alright, but was deeply saddened that his friends were lost. But now is not the time to grieve, that would be for later. She thanked him for the potion, then turned to the newcomer and spoke out.

“My name is Artanis. This is Xaris. It was two of our companions, Kasenerrion and Loriel, that were claimed by that fire.”

Xaris nodded and stood, only reaching to waist height of the man. Artanis seemed to about to speak about his question of going and retrieving another potion when the mother of the baby appeared and took the baby. She seemed quite happy that "Mariebelle" was now back in her arms, but then was shocked to realize that two of the three had died. She quietly left the scene.

“I’ll come with you to get those potions. I don’t think I can be of any assistance until I’ve had at least one more of your potions.”

Xaris nodded again and smiled helping Artanis get up, helping her to the tavern. They went up into his room and he took out a cure serious wounds potions, and handed it to her.

" Here, drink this. It should make you feel a whole lot better." Xaris watched as Artanis drank the potion, then walked back to the fire with her after securing everything else in his pack, making sure it was there. Then he headed back out with his shortsword and thats when the man spoke out to Artanis.

"You seem to be well on the road to recovery. That gnome friend of yours...Zoris?... either has quite the knack for the healing arts or has several more of those potions stashed away somewhere. I'm sorry for earlier. I did not mean to be rude and ignore you, I was... lost in thought. My name is Talus Er... just Talus. I admire your bravery in running into a burning building to save the child of a perfect stranger. You don't see that kind of selflessness much anymore. Forgive me being so bold, but I wondered if I might impose and ask to travel with you and your companions for a time? Not that I'm, uh, trying to replace the friends that you just lost... it's that I just... Well and, and you... ...you know, nevermind. Bad timing, sorry. Forget that I asked."

Xaris looked up to him.

" Do not worry, I think it is ok if you accompany us for now. The fire seems to be dieying down and traveling alone at night in such a city could be dangerous. We would need to inform the others at what happened. Also, my name is Xaris. Nice to meet you.

Her attention now focused on the caster with no facial features, Sheva's furrowed brow and intent visage were the only indication that she was expending any effort at all, even the effort of will. Almost gladly, she let the sphere of flame dissipate when the man with the greatsword found out he could out-maneuver it with speed. That would have allowed her next spell to flow that much more smoothly for it's use on the mage with the featureless face.

But it didn't happen that way.

Sheva watched with forboding as the pair of magical darts that No-face was able to unleash first streaked in her direction and struck her -- not with the force of weight, but with the force of jangling energy. PAIN! She pulled back her lips, clenched her teeth, and almost -- almost -- screamed through them. As many times as she had been hit with the eldritch bolts, Sheva never seemed to be able to prepare herself in time for the muscle-jolting shock of their impact, so swift were they. She couldn't dodge them. They never missed. The disruption to her nervous system was immediate, disrupting coordination and thought, and nearly caused her to falter and lose the spell she had intended to cast. Later, she would have time to wonder where the luck came from that allowed her to finish what she started. It was enough, for now, that she was able to complete the casting and send her own caustic, burning, seething missile at the other caster, the mage with no face. She allowed herself a brief, ever-so-brief, smile when it struck.

She had not expected to encounter an opposing force when all she intended to do was visit her mentor, so she hadn't prepared any defensive spells. His magical missiles had caught her off-guard, so she would show him the folly of his arrogance. Later, she would chastise herself for her own arrogance. For now, at the very least, she hoped she could suprise him with a highly unusual tactic -- well, unusual for her, anyway ... Knowing that the caster would have to deal with her caustic bolt for a few more seconds yet, Sheva immediately matched motion to voice for her next incantation, almost as a reflex, as she began running toward the faceless mage.

[Cast Shocking Grasp while rushing toward No-Face, to palm him in the chest (or grab a defensive arm) and light him up ... ]

More Linnix vaguely thinks as she lashes out with her dagger again and again, malevolence shining through her grin and eyes Bleed more, pay more, and die.
Linnix's dress, despite having been made to show beauty and elegance, had been made too well to do what it was above all meant to: to display its wearer's emotions. At this point in time, it seems to reflect the blood around the room far easier than any other colour, dimming the gown to a dull red. The few cool hues along the skirt seem to vanish, and merely darken the red further, making it appear to actually be blood that has dried upon it. The violet of the bodice too has darkened, and even though the dress is silvery, somehow the combination of the dull violet and shininess forms tones of obsidian. The dress no longer appears beautiful or elegant, but just seems to be an extension of Linnix's malice, giving her the appearance of an angel of death. Linnix's white masked face, almost porcelain in appearance, further aids this appearance, making her appear more like a doll that is permanently malevolent and stained with blood.

With Xaris beside her, Artanis tried to look like she was not in a world of pain as she walked carefully to the Inn. She followed him up to his room, moving a bit slower up the stairs than she would have liked.

She took the potion from Xaris with a smile, “Thank you, my friend.” Closing her eyes, she placed the bottle to her lips, and tilted her head back drinking every drop.

Now Artanis was feeling much more up to par, “Now, let’s get back out there and see if we can help put that fire out.” She grabbed the biggest pot she could find, filled it with water, and quickly made her way back out to the fire. She knew this wouldn’t do much, but she had to do something.

Once back at the fire she threw her meager contribution onto the base of the fire, and turned to reach for the next container filled with water to add it to the attempt at extinguishing the blaze.

"You seem to be well on the road to recovery. That gnome friend of yours...Zoris?... either has quite the knack for the healing arts or has several more of those potions stashed away somewhere."
Artanis turned and looked up at the man who had helped before, and smiled at him. “Xaris? He has this way of having just the right healing potions when they are needed. Don’t ask me how he does it.” She smiled at Xaris, then turned back to the man as he spoke again.

"I'm sorry for earlier. I did not mean to be rude and ignore you, I was... lost in thought. My name is Talus Er..."
Artanis looked at him curiously as his smile faded, then returned in the next second. A brief thought flashed through her mind of how nice his smile was, and then he continued.


"...just Talus. I admire your bravery in running into a burning building to save the child of a perfect stranger. You don't see that kind of selflessness much anymore. Forgive me being so bold, but I wondered if I might impose and ask to travel with you and your companions for a time?
A seemingly uncomfortable look crossed his face before he quickly added assurances that he was not trying to take the place of their fallen friends. Artanis placed a reassuring hand on his arm and smiled encouragingly.

“Do not worry, Sir Talus. I would be happy to have you accompany us. We will, of course, have to confer with our companions, but I would be surprised if they said no to the idea.”
Once the fire had died down, Artanis wanted to sift through the ashes to see if there were any chance at all they could find the remnants of their friends. The ashes, however, were still much too hot. She knew it would be morning before the ashes would be cool enough to go through.

Weary from the events of the last couple hours, and looking as though she had not bathed in weeks, she turned to Xaris and Talus. “I’m headed back to the Inn. Perhaps the inn keeper will have a drink available before I retire for the night.” Looking down at her filthy clothes and skin, entirely covered with ash and soot, “And a bath would certainly not be unwelcome.”
After a few steps in the direction of the Inn, the pot she'd grabbed from the Inn in her hand, she paused and looked at Xaris. “Perhaps it would be best if we wait until morning to inform the others of what has happened tonight. I see no reason to disrupt their sleep, as there is nothing they can do about it now. What say you, Xaris?”
Once back at the Inn, Artanis looked for someone that could assist her. Once she had acquired her drink, she sat at a table and leaned back in the chair, exhaling a long exhausted sigh. She took a long swig of her drink and rolled her head side to side. Her neck and shoulders were a bit sore from the repetitive movement of having been tossing the water at the fire.

Xaris chuckled at the comment of him always having the right potion. He wished he did not even need to use them, but he did. And he was glad that he could always be there to help. He nodded in agreement at the proposition of Talus traveling with them, and also going back to the inn, a drink sounded good. He started to walk with Artanis and Talus, when she turned to him and spoke about not mentioning this to the rest of their friends until morning. " That would most likely be wise." Xaris agreed wholesomely.
He walked with her to the table and sat next to Artanis while she drank, his hands both wrapped around a drink, elbows on the table. He twiddled his fingers and tapped the glass, thinking about the day gone by. If only I would of gone with them, maybe I could of saved one of them. I should of gone instead of talking down that angry farmer. At least I did something good..... so much for my vow of protection...
Xaris took a long drink from his glass and set it down resting his head on his folded arms on the table, and sighed. He picked his head up and looked at Artanis, and spoked softly.

" I know how it feels, Being the only one left. I've been through the same situation. You did good today saving that child. If you stayed back, you would of died too...."

Talus tried to keep his mind as blank as possible while he followed Xaris and Artanis back to the Green Gryphon. He knew if he let himself start thinking about what he'd put in motion he would talk himself out of the whole thing and end up wandering the wastes again.


Over time, Talus had convinced himself that simply staying away from large settlements was his best chance at surviving his family's legacy. He reasoned that if he never interacted with society, he would never be tempted to exploit the hierarchies that naturally develop. "Avoid failure and you have succeeded" he told himself. However, growing up and seeing the lavish parties his parents threw, being set into social circles for so long made his self-imposed exile nearly impossible. Eventually he would break down, find a small village somewhere and revel in just watching people talking, listening to laughter. Then, inevitably, he'd catch himself profiling everyone, just as his mother had taught him, and he'd force himself back into exile until he couldn't remember the mental notes he'd taken of the town's sordid affairs.


This was the first city he had entered in several months and Talus was nervous, not because he thought he might break again, but simply from the number of people present within these walls. The urgency surrounding the fire had kept him distracted, and he'd kept his eyes on Xaris' boots as they walked, purposefully focusing on nothing. Now, as he stepped into the tavern, Talus finally took in his surroundings. The number of people in the main hall shocked him as he stepped inside (even though by local standards the place was empty due to the excitement of the fire) and the sounds and smells, multiple conversations overlapping one another and the mixed sweet-sour of tobacco and exotic pipe weed, overwhelmed the man.

Talus made his way over to the barkeep in a daze, feeling both cramped and light-headed. "Uh, excuse me. How much... um, how much for a room?" He didn't quite catch the response, as everything little action took his full concentration and he was trying to fish some coins out of his belt pouch. Having grown accustomed to pine and cedar being the dominant scents, Talus was having trouble breathing the air think with pipe weed. At last the pouch surrendered its contents and Talus dropped three gold coins on the counter, "I hope this will do for now. Could you have someone bring up a wash basin and maybe something thing to eat? ...Thank you."

After locating Artanis across the room and trying to gesture that he was going upstairs, Talus made his way to his room and disappeared for the night.

((ooc: unless Xaris or Artanis catch him on the stairs, which wouldn't be hard to do with as slow as he's moving right now, Talus is going to wash up and crash for the night. ))

The auction house had turned into a room not selling life, but filled with the paying in death. The walls and floor were growing steadily thicker with the blood of the fallen, and everyone had suffered greatly in their attempt of reclaiming freedom. Their bodies ached from battle, but none would give up, for to do so was to ensure enslavement eternal, or death which while debated as the better of the two options for some, was still far from anyone’s top of their to-do list.

Nash, who apparently was having some sort of identity crisis at the moment, had his lips curled into a wicked grin filled with malice and spite. Again the voice, a deep raspy, almost female in tone left his lips in a cruel laughter. “More, more must be paid to pay the cost of my vengeance” Nash moved to the terrified trio of auction-goers, and as he moved he gave a quick flick of his wrists, his gloved fingers snapping down as hidden slings fired small shuriken of gleaming silver at two of them. The tiny projectiles flew so fast the patrons had no chance to put up a defense, and while the stars prick was barely registered beyond that of a papercut, the poison attached to them which quickly ran rampant through their bodies took hold, and both fell to the floor, wracked in a convulsing pain while their eyes noses and ears bled, all the while locked in a fitful sleep even the obvious torture they were suffering from could not wake them from. The third patron dropped his feeble dagger, as Nash approached. His teeth clattered and urine stained his once fine pantaloons as he trembled on weakened knees.

“W-w-wait!” He cried, tears flowing freely from his red puffy eyes. “Spare me, Spare me p-please!, I’ve s-seen the error of my ways. I-I’ll make you a very wealthy man, gold, diamonds, Anything you want! You can even have the rest of my slaves, I’ll free them all, and they’re yours!”

Nash strode up to the man, and though had they met on more common terms they would have stood about equal height, Nash, shrouded in black flames seemed to tower before the cowering man. The voice which came from his lips, but was not of his own, spoke once more. “There is nothing you can give me that will repay the pain we have suffered. You cannot buy back the time stolen from us with gold or baubles, only by taking your life will we gain back but a portion of all that was robbed of us!” Nash shot his arm back behind him, and the magical Cross-blade pulled itself free from the woman it had impaled, in another disturbing ripping and tearing sound that left a splatter of blood across the ceiling in an arc as it flew across the room to his waiting hand. The patron finally found the strength in his legs to try and run, and that was all Nash needed, for as the man turned to flee, Nash brought the blade down in a great overhead chop, two hands on the hilt as the man looked up in open mouthed terror at the bloody blade which was coming down at him, and open mouthed he stayed as the blade sank down his mouth and gullet, skewering his throat, torso, and exiting his hind-quarters splintering the wood floor beneath him as blood, stomach contents and excrement dripped and ran along the steel as Nash looked down at the man frozen in a supplicated yell of fear… and smiled.


The women could only look on in awe, horror, or otherwise, for they were engaged in a battle of their own. Linnix and Aelistae both snapped their attention away long enough attack the Orc before Linnix. Linnix’s dagger once more bit into the creature, whose angered growl was matched with one of Linnix’s own. (-5) Aelistae however would have no luck this round, her foot stumbling over a fallen chunk of the orc’s club, her reach overextending and missing its mark, but also leaving her exposed for the auctioneer’s attack. His falchion danced a burning gash along Aelistae’s back, the sting of magical acid trailing behind it. (Aelistae8/30 )

The Orc before Linnix, now weaponless, lashed out with his bare fists, but Aelistae and Linnix both pounced on the opportunity presented to them, dagger and court-blade coming in to lash at the orc. Aelistae still could find no fortune, but Linnix’s dagger plunged into the orc’s chest, even as his dual fists moved to club her shoulders. Black blood ran from the chest wound and his strength was stolen as the small blade protruded from the creature’s chest, the tip just going far enough to pierce it’s heart. (Critical for Linnix) The orc’s eyes glazed over in a flutter that left it staring at it’s eyelids, crumpling before Linnix.

Sheva was on the move, but the Faceless mage was as well. The acid sting bit deeper into his chet, and he cursed out loud in some foreign tongue as his spell was interrupted. The woman who had appeared in a flash suddenly dashed for the cage door, where Aelistae, Linnix and the Auctioneer stood facing off. Sheva directed all her attention in motion on the Auctioneer, and as Linnix moved to retrieve her dagger, ducking her lithe frame to reclaim her favored weapon Sheva came diving past her, even as the Auctioneer took a swing at the woman who passed so close. His enchanted blade caught the woman square in the chest and as the acid splashed over her she crumpled to the ground sliding undignified in a roll and a flop, to land at the feet of the faceless mage, who, for having no lips, could have been sworn to be smiling through the pain he was in… (Arcsheva -3/22)

Back at the Green Gryphon, Xaris, Artanis, and now Talus have all found the comforts of a quiet room in which to relinquish the hardships of the day. With food, drink, bath and bed, they pass into sleep, unaware of the peril their companions currently face....

As she began her mad dash toward the faceless mage, Sheva began intoning the sormula for a Shocking Grasp to unleash on that spellcaster. Too late she realized that her headlong rush would take her far too close to the man wielding the big sword. Trepidation turned to horrror as she realized that she was about to take a blow that may have been meant for another. Even with all her skill, agility, and mobility, that which had helped to keep her alive until now, she knew she could not dodge this wicked, bloody blade. She would not have the opportunity to bring anything -- anything at all -- to bear to deflect that deadly weapon from its path.

As the blade bit into her chest, cutting long and cutting deep, she grunted loudly, again through teeth clenched in preparation for the blow. So intense was the pain and the burning that she passed out amost immediately, no time even for self-reprisal. Her knees buckled to deposit her in a heavy, ungainly heap on the floor of the cage. There shone a final glimmer of relief on her face as she fell, an expression unnoticed by the rest. Before blackness claimed her, a bright spark of relief that her dear Kitsaa was not riding in his usual place on her chest, under her chin. He would have been severed also by the crushing blow, yet another needless death attributable to her instictive foolhardiness ...