"Hired??" demanded An'Inglefar, "By whom?!"
"I wouldn't worry about that, councillor. We appear to be in capable hands," replied the foreigner.
"Why should we trust unknown help?"
The foreigner stifled laughter, "Because we appear to be under attack by a certain Khan figure. Would you kindly tell us who he is?"
"Khan..." the Councillor for Magic growled, before setting out towards the semi-wrecked building and raising his arms to the sky in a dramatic pose...

The rooftop collapsing had not been part of DHarem plan; as the roof fell he used his superior agility to help cushion his fall. He landed, more or less, on his feet in the rubble below but he felt a pain in his left leg. He gritted his teeth and began a concentration mantra in his head to help deaden the pain as he stood there and waited for the dust to settle for a few seconds. He looked down when he could see and saw a piece of the tile sticking out of his leg. Blood was flowing but it didn’t appear to be immediately life threatening.

He looked around the rubble and found the body of the mage laying there looking far worse covered in debris. He moved over to the mage and uncovered him and saw some rather serious wounds. Immediately he began to assess his injuries; broken ribs, a severely lacerated leg, a compound fracture of his right arm. The man was badly injured and close to death; forgoing his own injuries he began to work on the mage. Shucking his sack off and placing it on the ground next to him he drew out one of the light medical kits and began to stanch the flow of blood from the more severe wounds.

He quickly put pressure bandages on the bleeding and would worry about the broken bones later. Once this was done he pulled out one of the healing potions and carefully poured a single dose between the mage’s lips. Then he reached down and removed the tile splinter in his own leg and slapped a bandage on it and tied it off as the blood began to flow greater. He downed a dose of his healing potion himself to stop the bleeding.

This done he sat back and sighed; not the way the plan was suppose to go, no not at all.

“IN HERE!” He yelled out hoping someone outside would hear him and make their way to the two. The mage should be stable now but he still needed further attention and the Seeker needed some rest.

Fire flashed in An'Inglefar's eyes as the house suddenly erupted in flames.
"Khan."

Before anyone could do anything, from the rooftop sped a ball of fire. No, not a ball.

"RAAAAAAAARRRRGH!" roared a barely recognisable, burning figure, longsword in hand, landing directly on top of An'Inglefar and running him through with the blade.

The mass collapsed to the floor, the councillor surely dead and the burning figure slowly extinguishing, yet unconscious, nearly dead.

If they were wondering who it was, all doubt was removed: Thomas.

"NO!" Varis yelled, as if it would make some difference, have made him faster to react, faster to stop what happened. Dropping his sword, he ran to the collapsed An'Inglefar, ignoring the now-fallen figure without looking at the face, too busy frantically bringing the healing potion from his belt, pouring it into the councillor's mouth.

"Come on, COME ON!" Varis yelled, the liquid dribbling out, the councillor's body making no response, his eyes still open but lifeless.

"Come on...Lords curse it, I'm NOT going back to Ulrick to tell him his friend died right next to me! Wake. Up!" Varis said, thumping the chest of the dead councillor in futile, some detached part of his mind realizing the blood from the wound was not spreading over the body much. There was no bloodflow.

"I am NOT!" Varis yelled, his mind suddenly shifting his perceptions, suddenly not looking at the dead face beneath him, but to Varis' own self. His powers. Varis drew magic from every bone and muscle of his self, shaping it all, forcing it all into the councillor's heart, trying to heal it against natural laws, trying to start the entire body again.

Varis realized, in some corner of his mind, that this was too much, he was channelling energy his body just couldn't provide. He felt the wear of weeks without sleep, miles of running and days without food or water.

[I *will* do this. I *will*.] Varis stubbornly fed still more magic in-

-before collapsing.

The seemingly lifeless councillor coughed blood. Coughed. Despite being dead.
Life surged back into him, only just alive, hanging on by a thread.

All Varis could feel was numbness. Absence of something. It was clear he had just grossly violated some law of nature, and would probably receive his comeuppance for it. But in the meantime, he had succeeded.

Which left nonetheless the main problem of a burning building with two men trapped inside and three people dying on a stage in front of hundreds of panicking people.

Staring first at the councilor and then at Thomas, Karrain gently pyshed Varis aside, drawing upon Anathemum glyphs not to continue the healing work but instead to power Varis' failing spell, hijacking was much easier than starting again.
Looking up from the body he frowned, searching the crowd for Bon, the last member of their band not incapacitated in some way apart from him, if things were to get uglier now, it would take the two of them to pull through.

Kera's hand slid toward her sword as her gut rolled telling her that trouble was about to begin. She was facing the wrong way as the mage called out the first opponent and lifted himself into the air. She heard his yell but didn't know any of the players, this however was dispelled as she saw another man racing towards one of the buildings and yelling at another man. That must be Dharem She thought as the new man leaped from his building onto the next one. Then the crowd hit her. It was like a tsunami smacking into a swimmer used to swimming in lakes. Kera stepped back to dodge the first panicked crowder only to step on a second as she quickly stepped to regain balance a third bumped into her ramming her into yet a fourth, and to really put her behind she tripped on someone else's leg and hit the floor. With a growl Kera fought to pick herself back up. It was a momentous feat considering the amount of feet. After about a minute of being trampled Kera decided to stop being nice. She grabbed one fellow's leg and jerked. He knocked into another person and it was dominos from there, but in the chaos of the falling mob Kera regained her feet. Reassessing the situation Kera found the building that the mage was on burning. The Councilor of Magic fallen with a strange man collapsed over him and the mage who called out the original warning attempting some spell that seemed to be working with marginal effect, and the second man seemingly lost in the crowd. Unsure of the situation with the councilor Kera chose to act on the situation that was very evident. She slung her shield over her shoulder and raced for the burning building. Always running towards what everyone else is running away from Kera thought as she dodged a lady carrying her child running away from the action spurred on by a call of "In Here". Kera bunched her shoulder and ducked her head as she hit the door without slowing bursting it open. She took only a moment to look around and realize the caller was on the top floor.

"I'm coming to help." Kera called up. "Keep talking if you can." Kera raced up the stairs listening to the cries of 'In Here' to direct her. She attempted to open the door the cries seemed to be behind but it was blocked by debris.

"Step back from the door if you're able" Kera yelled through the door as she drew her sword. She began hacking huge chunks out of the door praying that she wasn't also hacking huge chunks out of her would be rescuee. As the door and the debris behind it splintered Kera kicked away what was left and entered the room. She immediately saw injured Dharem and the unconscious mage.

" Hi, I'm Kera. Can you walk?" Kera asked walking toward them and noting the nasty gash in Dharem's leg. "I'll take the mage but I'm unsure I can carry both of you so if you can't I'll come back for you." She grabbed the mage's arms and hefted him somewhat ungently onto her back. He'll need a healer anyways and speed is more important than gentleness. With the mage secure on her back Kera made her way careful not to joust him to bad while still moving with the urgency only a burning building can generate out of the building.

DHarem started to feel the heat from the flames which were mostly above him but would soon be down here with the unconscious mage and himself. He was about to rise and pick up the mage when he heard a voice outside calling to him.

“In here,” he said again and rose, mentally blocking the pain in his leg from which the bleeding had slowed. He was far enough back as the hacking began; he lifted his sack from the ground where he had stowed the med kit and potions once more and slung the sack over his back.

He raised a brow at the figure of a female warrior stepping into the splintered door. He was about to tell this newcomer that he could help with the mage but she swept the man up and tossed him on her shoulder. He smiled slightly at the sight and nodded as she turned to exit the building.

“Lead on Kera,” he said following her nimbly over the rubble as burning debris began to fall around them, “I will be fine.”

He made it out of the building only seconds behind her; the insides of the weakened building coming down in a cloud of burning dust on his heels as he paused to look back into the building. They sure don’t build them like they use to he thought before turning and following the warrior.

“My name is DHarem,” he said to her when they stopped outside, “the mage is alive but not for long. I gave him a healing potion but he needs magical healing.”

He looked around and saw quite a commotion coming from the stage area; people were everywhere and everyone seemed to be in a panic.

An'Inglefar suddenly stopped coughing. Stable.

Meanwhile, guards by the dozens leapt upon Thomas and dragged him to the fore, their captain giving some incomprehensible shout before he was hauled off towards the nearest guardhouse.
An'Jantar rushed forward, "By Verona, this is bad!", kneeling before An'Inglefar.

------------

Khan blinked, and open his eyes gradually, "Thanks for the rescue... I will be fine."
A smile, brief, and he continued, "Meet me at my tower in the west of town as soon as you can. Come with only those you trust."
From a pocket in his robes appeared a small, wooden stick, which he snapped, before disappearing instantly in a flash of acid-green smoke.

Karrain's habitual scowl deepens as he crosses his arms, glowring after the guards.
"Councillor, would it at all be possible for you to bring master Thomas back? Whether or not he is alive or will survive their custordy is one thing. But his crime is another one entirely. What are you going to say in the courtroom? 'Whilst trying to save a councillor's life from a renegade mage he was, through no fault of his own, used as a projectile by said mage to strike down our beloved councillor?'" The Sacrelarch frowns...his inner eye narrowing whilst his outer ones spy a pall of green smoke.
"Also whilst bravley apprehending a scorched cadaver your men have failed to capture said mage. Surley it is the day of Tithuana's finest?"

The captain frowned. As An'Jantar was about to open his mouth, the aformentioned guard took a couple of confident strides forward.
"I do my job, and my job is to protect our citizens from madmen. It is through luck that the Councillor of Magic is still alive, and I will NOT stand by idly and take this mockery. Were it not for the situation, I would challenge you now to a duel. I do not tell you how to get in the way, and I ask that you do not tell me how to protect Tithuanans."
An'Jantar appeared concerned.

The captain spat at Karrain's feet, before whirling around and shouting out orders to various city guardians, who began setting up perimetres and keeping order around the area.

DHarem just stared for a moment at Kera and the spot from which Khan the Mage had disappeared. He was in disbelief that the mage was able to regain consciousness and then to escape while being as injured as he had been. He stared at Kera and raised an eyebrow at the seeming impossible situation.

“Well that was totally unexpected,” he said with a faint grin and a shake of his head.

He looked around as the crowd seemed to thin out a bit; seemed the situation here was coming to a end. He glanced over towards the stage and saw some kind of commotion there and saw that the city guard had arrived. He saw several of them lift up someone, a charred someone from the look of it, he wasn’t close enough to see who it was as the guard whisked the person away. Maybe it was an accomplice of Khan’s who had been captured.

“Well,” the Seeker said as he turned back to Kera, “I would like to thank you for coming to my assistance. I don’t know if I could have made it out carrying the mage injured as I was. If you need anything, please seek me out. I owe you a debt.”

Looking over at the gathering near the stage he saw some of his companions along with the Councillors and guardsmen. He frowned as he saw one guard, a Captain by the looks of his uniform, appearing to be angry towards Karrain.

“I should rejoin my friends,” he said to Kera, “something seems … to be going on.” His voice sounded a bit confused by what he saw going on.

(I figure that DHarem did not witness what happened so doesn’t know about Thomas; also I am waiting to see if Kera will follow DHarem over to the group. )

Karrain stares coldly after the captain before closing his eyes and bowing his head.
"I did not suffer eight thousand years imprisonment to be spat upon by a whelp in uniform and I assure you, captain, should we meet again I shall endeavour to ensure you suffer a similar fate."
With that the Sacrelarch turns, striding from the stage and past the burning building, his bent head disguising the smile on his lips.

"... so what on Anchor is going on??" An'Jantar asked, then shouting, "We need a physician!"
It didn't take long, even in the mass of terrified people, for a set of the city medics to arrive, check the situation of both An'Inglefar and Varis, before taking them off to what they described as "The Scarlet Clinic".

Bon arrived on the stage. As An'Jantar opened his mouth to speak, he murmured to Karrain.
"I can't find the others, so looks like I'm telling you: I tracked the mage's magic signature to a tower in the west."
An'Jantar sighed and sat down on one of the duel chairs, before speaking, "It is NOT this simple. There is something far deeper than this, I can tell. Why would Khan try to kill An'Inglefar? Why would the warrior kill him?"

Karrain regards the hunter, ignoring Al'Jantiar's exclamations for the moment.
"Well, Varis will probably be out of action for a while...making it imperative that we find DHarem. As for Thomas, well, I'd enjoy questioning him myself at the moment."
"So, here's the plan. We find DHarem, and get his side of things before we find the mage and get some answers, hopefully not having to extract his viscera in the process. Then, if he doesn't cooperate, we find Thomas, garroting the guard captain with Khan's digestive tract if necessary. Does that sound feasable to you?"