Oh how lovely you look (Solo)

[Darian]

His dusky hazel eyes watched calculatingly through the sheen of rain that dropped before him, and sometimes into his eyes causing them to sting slightly. The barn of course had been a waste of his time and energy, but at least now he had sited down the group and would be hopefully enough to hear something worth the enormous risk he was taking. The deep voices from within the small unadorned hut resonated out in the stillness filling his ears with words that just barely tickled the all consuming curiosity that plagued him of late. It didn't much surprise him that Reacher had gotten himself in over his head, but to see the cold, and calculating man react so frightened more than a bit perturbed him, and sparked further curiosity about just who these men where, and why they inspired such fear and respect from people like Reacher. More than helpful it would be to know more about the real players of the city, the ones that worked things from behind the scenes and gave people like him a job. That information could only help him get whatever he desired at the time, or perhaps the insight would simply get him killed if these people where as deadly as Reacher thought they where.

The slender, greying man stumbled out of the hut, almost causing Darian to jump in surprise, but showing surprisingly good instinct, he remained completely still for a moment while his mind raced how to better deal with the situation developing so fast. One thing he knew was that he couldn't remain where he was for much longer, and using the distraction of reacher, he slowly edged off to the right side of himself, pushing himself further away from the man that attracted such unwanted attention, and angling to get a better, more advantageous place near the dilapidated hut. His fingers moved easily through the soft, muddy loam, digging his way across till he had made his intensely slow progress to the unbroken side of the hut, winding there just in time for Reacher to have been already replaced none to gently inside the hunt.

Finally he chose to crawl forward instead of a wide fading backwards route, and his far as close to the wall as he could bear, put his ear up close to a crack in the poor building work that seemed to riddle everything in the area with cracks and instability. It was shoddy building work, and everyone knew it, but it was cheap, and that little fact tended to help well with the overall profits of a business. A cool wisp of air tickled his ear, but he remained still, tensely so, listening for any words at all that would tell him more of what was going on, and more importantly, what exactly it bode for him, and his own ventures.

[Archelon]

By the hutt... Through the crack in the wall Darian could hear the continuing conversation."Look, I didn't know about the Night Eyes trying to find the konti women. You must have about twenty of them there, Right? If one of them is causing so much problems why don't you just get rid of them? Throw their bodies into the bay like everyone else." Another bit of thunder clouded his hearing for a bit, making it hard for him to hear for a short while but gradually things began to become more clear. "You are -ly a ...fool reacher, do you think our leader? ... marked by the Great Child of Murder and inducted into the Murderer's own Circle. Kryssus damn you... do you not know how valuable a twice marked healer is outside of Mura? Yes yo- helped retrieve her when she escaped. Even if you found her huddled over a dying corpse! Did you not know they are required to heal when they can? Whomever they can?!?! Damn you Reacher, why did you not sever the head of anything she Touched! You knew better then that! Now the Night Eyes are searching for our demesne, our place of safety! Our Temple to the Murderer's will!" Perhaps with some foolish bravado, Reacher stuttered out a reply, "Ye-Y-Ye-yes. I understand that but surely if this is a problem I can find who it was and kill them! That would be right, wouldn't it? I mean... if your leader is as such an accomplished killer wouldn't you just find and kill these Night Eyes? Isn't he one of the M-m-mortanis?" A hissing sound of Rionne's voice could be heard as Reacher shut up, and for a moment, Darian might put an eye to the hole in the wall for a look as the resounding shout was loud enough to be heeded , "You go to far in your blasphemy Reacher! Our leader is not yet amongst Kryssus' chosen few... but in time... very soon... perhaps! He keeps his skills sharpest here in sunberth! And has become very good at killing even with one mark to his worth! Though, for now for a few seasons, he is gone. But he will return. We prepare his place of resting for then. Gathering the slaves he might have to kill upon the roads as he does Her bidding!" "I-I-I'm sorry I only presumed- I mean he takes so many jobs from Robern I thought Robern was hiring him like the rest of Kryssus' el-" Rionne's voice rang clear. "You Presume to much for the last time!" Following the declaration there was a sound of a chair hitting the floor and soon a shadow would block his view, causing Darian to shrink back a little. "Look Please, I'm sorry- I'm sorry!"It was a fortunate thing he did, since a longsword of steel pierced through the hole in the wall a moment later and the sickening smell of stench of voided bowels came through the hole, a clear sign that Reacher... yes Reacher... was now dead. Very slowly the shaft on the longsword withdrew back into the wall. Darian could hear a man grunting, probably Marchon, as he pulled upon it. With all that could be gained, it seemed Darian was in quite a pickle as the sounds of moving came from inside the hutt. Soon... soon the two murderers would be leaving. Would he wait until they left to make his way back across the fields? Or would he risk a quick getaway? The fastest way back to Callik's was if he cut through the fields... and probably it was the safest too.

[Darian]

Sceams, pain, agony, and torment all rolled into a delightful bundle, and all opened as clearly to his greedy ears and sometimes eyes as the small crack would allow. Thoughts spurred his heart to beat hard in his chest, hammering at the ideas of what he had just witness pulsed through his mind in the brief moments he had to think of what to do next. In the background of his mind, the murder's footsteps echoed clearly even in the pounding rain, and ear splitting peals of thunder that washed out everything else. Fighting the men was no option, Reacher may have been a vulture, but his was formidable in his own right and if he was so afraid of them, he was for good reason. Hiding seemed even less savory a option, his knowledge of Akajia's realm only known by name, and his working with remaining hidden no better than a toddler hiding from his family. It left only one thing, and for a denizen of Sunberth, something that was a favored tactic.

Running.

When it came down to it, perhaps thats the only way he would survive the night, but running wasn't something he did much of and his doubts on whether or not he could cross the field fast enough surfaced. Waiting here and hoping they pass by him without checking the area seemed just as bad though. How did one deal with escaping from a killer cult? It all just seemed so odd, so weird that something like this was happening to him all because of a odd job with a slaver, and what about that konti they mentioned, as well as the body? Could it have anything to do with the woman of his dreams? The woman he saw repeatedly night after night as saving him from some peril long forgotten in the recesses of his mind. It was all just getting to be a little too much.

Something occurred to him, the fact that they didn't know he was here and that with a step back and measured calm, it might be easier than his racing mind complicated it out to be. Dropping down onto his belly, Darian with his mind still buzzing with thoughts went still as stone, before mechanically scrapping as fast as he could at the soft mud underneath him. He had to get under it's inviting cover, and he needed to do it fast or face capture, and a painful death. Faster now, using his hands and feet, he dug at the soil until at last he had carved out a shallow pit for him to lie, barely enough as it was though to cover up half his body. Darian dropped down into it anyways, then worked on rolling the upturned mud back over him, and tamping it down till he couldn't anymore. At last, covered in as much thick mud as he could possibly pull over himself, he laid down across the ground completely still, and prayed to the shadow queen that the murders wouldn't check to extensively for a spy. He waited for as long as he heard the noises, those faint unnatural sounds that didn't mix too well with the wind and lighting.

Suddenly he was running, his feet carrying him as fast as his lean legs could allow, the muddy terrain clearing under his feet, and deluding himself into thinking he was making more headway than he actually was. It was too late now to turn back, and cringe against the broad expanse of the hut where he would likely be found, then killed in short order. No, this was better, at least he didn't have too see the arrow coming straight for the center of his back this way. His death would be quick that way, much quicker that it would be should they find out what all he had heard, and they would have eventually he knew. Something in his mind snapped into place, and then he was just running, no longer thinking about anything else then getting back the Callik's house.

oocSorry it took me so long to reply! Life issues I had to deal with. If you need me to alter anything just ask.

[Archelon]

oocDon't worry about, but please just send me a pm next time if you can

Within the fields.... As Darian fled through the crops of the muddy fields, his legs would slide seemingly of their own free will in opposite directions, sending him tumbling in the darkness bringing to him the unpleasant sensation of coming face first into the mud a few times on his travels back towards the proper areas of the town of Sunberth. But aside from these few inconveniences, luck would be with him if he stopped a moment to look back over his shoulder. The light of the wagon's lantern would be moving off towards the Northern Wilds, slowly fading out of sight. With the immediate dangers past, Darian would resume his travels in the rain far more carefully, sliding into the shadows between the stalks, as lightning flashed across the skies once more. Through several fields he traveled, skulking from shadow to shadow, but it wasn't until the last rise of a hill before the town that he spotted something of note. A dull hue of an overturned lantern lay upon the ground, casting the immediate area into a haze of shadows that his eyes could not pierce. But soon enough the illumination provided by the storm's lightning provided him a bone chilling sight as soft tittering of laughter played upon his ears amidst the resounding booms of thunder. Upon the rise, a woman, naked in rain, spattered in the glistening wet red of blood coating her lithe form could be seen as her body hunched over something. Another flash of lightning and crackling of thunder brought what it was to Darian's eyes. At her feet, a man lay prone upon his back, painful wheezing as the woman caressed the wounds which had been made upon his features, slowly choosing to lick the blood as she played with him the dagger slowly cutting strips off the injured man's arms, before the naked killer's lips savored them like some spiced meat. The man being slain was Grotto... Callik's guard, and the woman was none other then the 'wife' of the farmer who had been sold earlier that day. What would Darian do with this new knowledge? Would he skulk away and pretend he never had witnessed such a thing, or carry the information back to Callik? Or would he try to take matters into his own hands and attack in the midst of the night, using the shadows to help him gain the upper hand for the first blow? Or would there perhaps be a third option here? Would he foolishly try to interrogate the woman amidst her newest "meal?" Only time would tell, but within the next few seconds, Darian would have to decide. And that decision might bring many a consequence to him later on down the line...

Back in Calik's office... Callik paced the floor nervously, wringing his hands as he sent sharp glances towards Kallina. Finally he sighed, "What the hell is taking them so long? Grotto should have been back chimes ago!"Kallina crossed her arms and simply leaned against the wall, before giving a little shrug by way of reply. "Petch it all! This damn well isn't my idea of a good day for business. What the hell have we stumbled onto here, Kallina?" Kallina sighed a moment before she spoke, "Don't worry about it, a runner came by a few moments ago with word. Crow and his boys are going to stop by a little later to gain an idea of what this is all about. So calm down Callik and relax. The only thing we have to do is wait-" The woman's words cut off as soon as the sound of shattering glass from another room came to her ears, and instinctively she grabbed for the dagger at her belt. Callik felt pretty much the same as he strode over towards his desk to pull an Isurian steel longsword from the rack behind his desk. A loud sickening scream of pain from one of his other guards echoed down their way before it was suddenly cut off. The pair's eyes met a moment, before they both by some unspoken creed moved to shove a table in front of the office door, barricading themselves in as they prepared for a fight...

[Darian]

His boots slid and slipped in the mud every other step it seemed, making running an even more arduous chore than it normally would be. Every once a while he would spare a glance back to see if he was being followed and end up sprawling into the muck only to have to struggle up and continue his escape. Rain continued to fall, and already soaked to the bone, it seemed to have little effect on him besides causing him to be pitched into a particularly deep pool of water every once and a while. In his chest, his heart hammered, and anxiety still creeping about his shoulders he looked back again only to find relief flooding through him. In the distance, the lantern of the wagon faded out of sight, and thus from his concerns. Keeping his eyes back ahead, he stopped his frantic pace, and took it more measuredly, watching the steps he took with more care, and keeping a eye on how the shadows fell across his body. Angling his weapons under the leather of his armor, he adjusted it so that it didn't so much glow in the faint moonlight and moved on, more than eager to return to Callik and wash his hands of the whole thing.

The fields seemed rather quiet except for the loud booms of thunder that rattled his bones, and skipping from shadow to shadow, he liked it that way. Bobbing at his side, the hilt of his longsword bumped up against him with every movement, reminding him silently that perhaps he needed a less annoying weapon to specialize in. He wouldn't stop carrying it though, no matter how much it seemed to get in the way, it was so much more significant than his comfortably with the weapon. Pressed against his leg, his second favorite weapon seemed to remind him of that fact why exactly he needed he cold iron blade.

He cleared the next hill easily, keeping cover in the unkempt stalks, and hiding in what little shadow cover he could. Not much farther, he could sense it, though when he looked across shock washed over him instead of smug satisfaction.

"No" Darian breathed, his eyes widening at the sight that unrolled before him.

Without meaning to, he sank to his knees in the muck, his eyes unable to remove themselves from the ghastly sight, his mind likewise occupied with the implications of it.

Callik can't be dead, not yet..

It didn't make any sense, the farmer's wife was the least dangerous he thought, but instead she seemed to be quite the killer herself. Grotto.. he was a formidable man, and no twig either, for her to have taken him down.. I need to find Callik.

He was off again, skirting in the shadows of the fields, and giving the crazy woman a wide berth. It would do them no good for the murderous cult to know that he was around, especially if they found out that he knew what he did. His feet sought placement in the mud where it seemed most stable as he crept amongst the shadows, unerringly heading back to Callik's residence, his mind yet reeling with the possibilities of what was happening.

[Archelon]

As Darian snuck away from the ghastly scene of the woman he'd hear her yelling towards the storm some words in a foreign language. Myrian to be exact, telling the tale of how she had succeeded over her latest opponent and wished to make Grotto's strength her own. If Darian could have heard it, or not was inconsequential. He was already moving away, back towards the streets of Sunberth. Entering the relative safely of the streets his pace widened as he passed through several alleys. In a few on the side, out of the rain in half destroyed hutches he'd notice there were thugs rolling dice, but they paid a shadow such as his no mind at all. For truly that was what he was this night. A shadow fleeing to save his own hide, marking it as far more valuable to him then the life of another man servicing his present employer's present protective needs. Soon enough, he came towards the home of Callik, just off the slaver's quarters and what met his eyes was almost enough to stop him dead in his tracks. The house seemed alright, but it was cloaked in the night's embrace. Small glimmers from street lanterns reflected in the glass shards of broken windows, but most importantly. The ringing sounds of swords was coming from inside. Someone was still alive and fighting there. What would Darian do? Would he flee and vanish into the night? Or would he take the risk to attempt to find out whether or not Callik was alive. And would such lead him to the mystery woman of his dreams? His sword at his hip, seemed quite willing to be drawn... but if he were to enter the house would that truly be his best weapon within the close confines of the structures halls and walls? Whatever he was thinking would be stopped cold as a man's body catapulted out from the home's first floor window. A man garbed all in black and only possessing a single knife in his hands lay on the ground looking up at Darian. He was staggered, his forehead bloody and it looked like he took a blow to his helm. But a closer look would show Darian that the man was wearing the same type of uniform Grotto had worn. A guard of Callik's. The guard looked at the muddied form of Darik standing in the rain and the wet as if he couldn't recognize him. But from his lips words tumbled out, seeking help of some sort. "Gods I hope yar' not with 'em. Hope yar' one of Crow's lot. There's two of 'em inside. Da' Boss, I mean Callik is still alive. Holed up in office. Hurry!" With those words the staggered man succumbed to unconsciousness, and Darian was left in the cold and the rain, staring at the broken door in front of him. A slow kernel of rage began to foster itself in Darian's mind. A flash of insight so clear it seemed a present reality. A sense of him lying in the streets, a woman with blonde-white hair leaning over him as his damaged body was wracked in pain and losing consciousness. Slowly dying as he passed into darkness for a few moments. A sense of a healing touch as charred flesh knitted itself back together. A strange mind noting the woman being taken away as his own body struggled for breath. It was all still muddy in his head, but it seemes as real as if it was happening right now. The memories of the fight with another man and the sounds of combat coming from inside Callik's Den overlapped each other as they synchronized with his feeling of his own heart beating in his chest. Together, the two experiences pounded out a tempo in his ears that demanded action: Fight, or Flight. The choice was his.

[Darian]

Words yelled amidst booming thunder itched at his mind, a familiar language that was slow to come to his tongue. Memories, dark and twisted resurfaced only to be quickly buried before he thought too much on them and drove his mind over the edge. It was a dialect he most fondly remembered as being used vehemently at him at every pass, and seemed fitting that the murderous woman would spew such words up at the dark storm that hovered above them all this night. Her words didn't matter though, and as he progressed, the grew fainter till he could hear only the rain, and thunder pounding across the distance, sending sibilant echoes throughout the night.

For him, a man who's loyalties where questionable at the best of times, it was more important for him to keep moving, to find his employer, and see how much Callik knew about their 'friends' exactly. If Callik knew who exactly he had sent him after, then there was nothing in all of Sunberth that would stop him from trying to plunge a blade in the cocksure slaver's throat. All those grim thoughts on supposed retribution faded as he came upon the house, sounds of battle echoing out from within, the clear clang of steel on steel ringing through the night even against the loud booms of thunder.

CALLIK!

The slaver couldn't die yet, he'd yet to find out who exactly the woman was, and despite his unwillingness to admit it, the man was his best chance at discovering who she was. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his longsword as he edged forward, his eyes locked fiercely on the darkened building. Pulling at the metal hilt, the blade slowly slid from its sheath as he took a few cautious steps forward, keeping a wary eye out for any enemies outside. A body plugging through the first floor window stopped him mid draw, and letting the sword fall back into place, he rushed over to the man, drawing his dagger as he did, and stopping right beside the man. If he couldn't recognize the man, the unlucky man would find his end quick, Darian of course assuming any man not of Callik's a enemy in the current battle.

Darian frowned.

The man, speechless for the moment wore much of the same garb Grotto did, marking him a man of Calliks, and the fact that he was outside in such a shape didn't sit too well with Darian. His right hand, clutching the dagger in a overhand grip, immediately lowered upon recognition, and silently Darian stood there as the man spoke, stumbling with his words in such a way that he wasn't even sure the man knew he was speaking them. The words held good news though, Callik was alive, and urged on Darian spun towards the doorway and took a step forward when he was halted by a memory coming flooding back to him, clouded and yet not. HIs heart beat in his hand it seemed, his fingers tightening around the cool metal of the broad bladed dagger, and all the way up his arms, muscles tensed and flowed with renewed vigor, his eyes narrowing as they stared into the empty darkness of the doorway. Flashes of past battles, and the strange woman roared through his mind, urging a primal rage so powerful he felt like screaming as loud as he could, but he directed it at his limbs instead, and with a burst of motion he was inside of the house. They who where responsible had much to answer for.

[Archelon]

oocIf you wish to flesh out any sneaking in this up to the point you meet the masked attacker feel free to play it up. ^-^. I'm also going to give you a bit of leeway in how you'll dispatch this first one according to your skills level with a dagger, or longsword, or whatever applicable skills. Surprise Me . Within the House... It was a burning rage, just like any other of his past, or was it? No... perhaps... while his blood sang for conflict for a few seconds a strange form of detachment settled in, coupling the drive for murder and mayhem with a sense of ... control. The rage within Darian's breast was still burning in his veins; but it seemed colder. Much more methodical. His mind brought many things to his attention as he rushed inside the building. Most alarmingly, he would immediately notice something amiss. The first fact that was brought to his attention was that it was dark. Every candle , every light fixture in the immediate area had been snuffed out save a few burning coals of the hearths about the house. Only the light of the storm through the windows provided adequate means of steady sight. Though closer to the office he knew hooded lanterns would still have stayed lit, casting a soft glow across the confines of the cramped spaces. With the fury cold in his veins, years of training would still Darians footsteps for a moment as his ears strained for any hint of danger. The sounds of swordplay were coming from the office and he ran towards the office hallway where he remembered it. He pulled back slightly as a gout of light and sound sprayed forth from the hall door to his side. Flash powder? He wouldn't know or tell, but when the afterimages faded, Darian would hear the muttered curses of one of Callik's assailants. A man dressed in blood red armor, and a white and red mask shaped like a skull careened backwards to fall backwards against the wall not five feet in front of him. Held firmly in his grip, the man wielded a gladius and struggled to his feet as another round of lightning cast the hallway in shadows. Blinking the man struggled to recover his feet, and whether it was the light from the storm, or perhaps a sheer stroke of luck. One blinking eye settled on Darian's presence and a snarl escaped his lips. Uttering a savage cry, he'd lunge for the man, seeking with his left hand his presence in the dark in order to grapple him long enough to skewer Darian upon his blade... Upon the streets... Seven figures of the night moved swiftly along the streets in the midst of the rain. Their forms encircled by encloaking shrouds of dark colored robes an small glints of medium armor and weaponry was able to reflected in the night from the ambient lightning of the storms. With hoods drawn they advanced towards the house, one person bending over the unconscious guard, checking him for breath before looking back at another hooded figure. Seeking some sort of guidance. Few new his face, or even met him in his life. But this man was Crow, leader of the Night Eyes; and it was very rare to see him out upon the open streets in any situation. But here he stood, looking towards the house where the sound of ringing blades still echoed within... He hissed out one word."Alive!' The man raised an arm, and pointed once towards the house. Holding it there for a second or two before flattening his palm to spread his fingers in all directions. Without a word passing betwen them, five of the seven darted towards the house, two climbing swiftly up the side walls to slide in through the upper windows. Three spreading around the house as one entered the first floor. There was a party of sorts in Callick's house tonight that few should have received invitations for, and the Night Eyes were bound to make sure anyone who were unwelcome in the house which they didn't know would be taken by force. Crow was not one to be roused from his normal seat of operations lightly. And tonight, those who attacked Callick of the Night Eyes would pay in blood. The only question was... what would they see when they entered the house?

[Darian]

His feet scuffed against the floor, drawing a grimace, his attempt to be stealthy feeling like a complete failure. Every step he could hear a sharp creak of aged wood submitting to the pressure of his weight echoing out through the house. Frustrated he stopped in the gloomy darkness, half-heartedly glad that all the candles had been blown out. Another crack of thunder sounded outside, and with it a idea came to mind, an idea that sent Darian into a crouch, a twisted him around to face hallway that would lead him to Callik's office. Sounds of metal still yet rasped through the corridors of the house, yet not loud enough to conceal his clumsy steps to Darian's own keen ears.

There was a slight flash through the windows behind him, illumination the whole of the space for the brief moment, and taking a moment to register it, Darian sprung forward, his feet pounding against the ground just after a boom of thunder echoed out, the sound loud enough to hopefully distract from his own. In between particularly loud lightning strikes he would shuffle forwards, occasionally bumping his knee into the wall, adding more to his overall noise, but still he would try to correct himself or shift his weight more to minimum success. Sounds of battle echoed closer now, and cautiously Darian continued forwarded.

Another flash echoed out, and Darian jumped haphazardly, running into the wall right as a boom of thunder shook through the house, followed by a shorter burst of noise and light that was much more intense leaving shaky visions of a light bleached wall before his eyes for the few moments it took his flash stunned eyes to adjust to the smoky darkness of the house. All too sudden a man fell away before him through the door he had been about to enter, and cursing silently to himself, Darian drew his arm back but winced as his elbow knocked against the wooden wall painfully and cost him his grip on the dagger. As the metal clattered against the floor, the man seemed to notice him and lunge himself forward, and desperate Darian threw himself to the side onto the ground, where he rolled until he struck the opposite wall farther down the hall.

Scrambling up onto his elbows he drew his longsword with a shaky hand, positioning it in front of him to perhaps bide him some time to get up and properly face the mad man. Should the red clad warrior not get to him in time, Darian would pull himself to his feet, and adopt a wide spread stance, his right foot slightly behind his left, cocking his right elbow back and to the side so the hilt of the sword was tipped diagonally towards the floor. When the man charged him, it would be a simple flick of his wrist to slash the cold iron sword down and to the left, Darian's aim to split the man from shoulder to hip.

[Archelon]

Ah... combat. The meeting of blood , bone, sinew and steel. Darian's efforts within the dark were successful to say the least. His longsword provided him the extra reach, even in the tight confines of the hallway. A sheer advantage over the masked figure's reach with a dagger. His single strike sunk sickenly into the dead man's chest, hacking through bone and sinew as it cut the man diagonally from the shoulder to the hip, simultaneously crushing through the ribcage and the leather armor his adversary wore. The spray of blood wasn't as gory as you might think, as cuts to the chest normally dealt massive damage that leaked the vital fluids into the remaining cavity, but when he shouldered the corpse off his blade the longsword's edge would glean red with the signs of the spilt blood before he turned back towards the hallway to Callik's office. Taking a step forwards Darian would stop when an arrow imbedded itself into the wall, and the clash of steel on steel continued. But , he could hear things now, hear the swearing of Kallina and Callik as they fought off the last man. He peeked around the corner, and saw a brute trying to stab forwards into a barricaded room with a spear in one hand, and a dagger in the other. His back was to Darian, and it seemed he was very much preoccupied with the targets right in front of him. Almost oblivious to the fate of his comrade in the dark. Should Darian choose, he would gain an opportunity for a first strike if only he could sneak up behind the man. The only question was... would Callik and Kallina recognize his mud caked form as the man they had taken on for protective duties? He'd find out, but if he was swift, and careful. He wouldn't need to worry about an arrow feathering him. All he'd have to do was kill the last assailant first before there was any other ... problems which came a 'calling. oocYou get one last combat post . Decide now if you want to take the other intruder down or not. Yes... if you choose to think your skillset allows a means of doing so- kill him in your post . (this thread's almost over ... save for a meeting of Darian... with crow Muhahahahahah. )