[center][i]A grand collaboration of myself, [@MacabreFox], & [@Leidenschaft][/i][/center]


Although somewhat concerned at Sevine's state of health, Rhasha placed the healing potion back in his knapsack and dropped the matter; the potions may be needed more desperately later - and he had only the 3 of them left. As the situation seemed to deteriorate further (Rhasha'Dar was extremely sick of fire now, and had no interest in being burnt alive after surviving the attack by the Spriggans earlier) his racing mind thought back to his amulet, still sat in his room. It would be foolish to retrieve it now... Gods, it was foolish to be even thinking of it now. Chasing the thought from his mind, Rhasha followed Sevine wordlessly through the window. While appreciative of the extra room made by Sevine's axe, the climb through was still an uncomfortable one. Thankfully for his injuries, he landed on his feet outside, pulling his spear through with him and readying himself for whatever lay outside.

Much to the Khajiit's relief, there was not a Kamal in sight. When he and Sevine happened upon Jorwen, he and a handful of others were killing off a group of Bosmeri. The lack of Ice Giants lightened Rhasha's mood somewhat, but there was still danger afoot. It wouldn't take much to assume that these foes were in cahoots with the Kamal. Either that, or it was a particularly diverse group of bandits that seemed to be rather effectively taking down a somewhat large host of experienced fighters. Deciding the former to be more likely, Rhasha'Dar tightened his grip on his spear as his eyes danced around the scene, cat-eyes picking up shapes in the darkness that would otherwise go amiss.

With a sweeping gaze, Sevine gave Jorwen a quick look-over and determined that he appeared to be uninjured so far. It was here, that she took in the rest of the unfolding chaos. "By the Divines, I thought we were under attack by the Kamal." She murmured, taking note of the motionless bodies littering the ground.

Jorwen rolled his shoulders, growling and looking for the next fight. While the newbeards were busy slapping each other's backs about this little skirmish, he was keeping an eye out for the towering monsters to come over the hill and ruin everyone's day that much more. He heard the newbeards quiet down and one whispered, "It's the Huntress."

The mention of her Name made her stomach turn, though she wore a mask empty of emotion. Now was not the time to delve into the underlying problem of having a namesake such as hers. Her concern centered around the attack for now. As long as she made it out alive, and back to Do'Karth is all that mattered to her.

He turned to his Second and shook his head at the mention of Kamal, "No. Bandits, maybe. Where're the others?"

"Rhasha and I slipped out the back window. Marcel and Keegan are still inside the inn last I saw. That old orc is dead, arrow to the eye." She commented in a soft tone. 

"Do you know of their numbers, Jorwen?" Rhasha got his own question in, hoping the old Nord would have some answer. He and the handful of younger men seemed to be coping fairly well against the myterious attacks, but the sounds of fighting and screams echoed across the wintry air - this was no small skirmish. While the group was untrageted, Rhasha gave his chest wounds a few more blasts of healing magic - he had no idea if there would be time to do so later.

"No." He shook his head, "I awoke minutes ago to someone trying to open my neck. This reeks of something else, raiders would not risk a fortified position unless they outnumbered us a good bit. I wouldn't."

"Hm." Grumbled the huntress, none of this sounded ideal. Then again when was fighting ever ideal? "We should join the others, it would be best if we didn't leave them to be slaughtered." 

"Aye." He nodded, turned to the newbeards that had placed themselves under him, "Get your arses to the front with your Captain. We shouldn't let ourselves get on the defensive now, lads."

One of them nodded and they all jogged off at a steady pace. Somewhere, he heard Tower-Shield bellowing his warcries again. Perhaps a man after his own heart, the way the old warrior stood against his foes. He was happy to bring him along, no matter what side they found themselves on in the past war. There was a new one on, after all, with new sides to choose. "We'll let the Braves handle themselves. Our mission is to get Bharzak back to Ashav, she knows the Kamal better than any of us. Shouldn't waste our strength fighting raiders." They themselves made their way back to the Inn and Jorwen waited, putting a hand on the Huntress' shoulder when the others had found their way inside, "My orders, Wolf-Tooth, we don't belong to the Braves. But if the Kamal are waiting in those hills, we break them here." He said the last words with a darkness and sincerity and a hatred he hadn't been used to in a long, long while. 

There was a tremble of fury on his tongue when he continued, "They took White-Eye from me and I ran. They almost took my daughter from me and I ran. They took Windhelm from me and I ran. I won't let them visit horrors upon Halla and Dawnstar. I will not let my daughter come back to see it burnt to the ground," His grip on her shoulder grew a little more firm, "Wolf-Tooth and Red-Bear, Skyrim doesn't sing songs of retreat with those Names in them. We'll make sure the Kamal know our Names."

"I will make certain that our Names are the last thing they hear before either of us leave this realm. Kamal, bandits, whatever awaits us, I will not turn tail and run." Still, apart of her did not wish to die before returning to Do'Karth, the pain of never hearing his soft-spoken words again elicited two separate emotions. One of profound pride, such that Jorwen had instilled in her just now. She would [i]not[/i] run, she would defend this place until the very last breath in her body fled. The other, a more hidden notion that she did not mention to Jorwen, one she was still unsure of herself, that she would make damn well certain she would live to see the next day.

Rhasha's ears flicked back in fear at Jorwen's words; he was not a cowardly Khajiit. He had never been cowardly, never fled from battle to let others fall and die in his place. He'd been willing to face off a Werewolf just to save his own - but the Kamal were something else entirely. At least when facing a werebeast, you knew it was an animal; it had no strategy, no morals, no ulterior motive. But the Ice-Giants were invaders; killing innocents and destroying cities - even collaring and enslaving some to gain even more power in Skyrim. He knew that if his group were to face the Kamal, nobody would survive. Especially not the wounded; Sevine with her injured leg and arm; himself, still suffering from spasms of pain in his impaled chest and back... Daelin, unconcious and badly burned, still in his deep slumber in the Inn.

"Jorwen... what of Daelin? We cannot leave him here at the mercy of these attackers. This one cannot see the Braves protecting someone as injured as himself either." He knew it was a fruitless thing to ask, but somebody had to say it. Daelin was a dead weight, but Rhasha would not be able to forgive himself if he abandoned the Bosmer.

His gaze flicked to the Khajiit in the doorway. His words on Daelin didn't make him feel any better in his part. But if a dedicated healer could do nothing for Daelin, no one here could, past making sure he suffered through sleep longer. He shook his head, "We've done what we can." He said.

The words left his lips and cut deep on the way out, but there it was. "If he wakes, so be it. We can leave on the morrow and pray nothing happens if we like. I need to see this business done." With that, he slipped past the two. Sevine trailed after him, casting a glance over her shoulder at Rhasha-Dar. The Khajiit's eyes met Sevine's, obviously downcast. He would have offered to carry Daelin if he must, but in his current state, while fending off attackers? Rhasha'Dar's fate would be as hopeless as the Bosmer's. Sighing quietly, Rhasha trudged after Jorwen and Sevine, head down and shoulder's heavy, as if the guilt was pressing down on the warrior. Truly, Azurah had abandoned them all.