"Fuuuuuuu-" I yelled, as some random dude picked me up and bashed me against a rock. As he threw me behind him, I preformed a mid-air somersault (laws of physics be damned) and managed a cat like landing on the ground. I've been thrown out of a lot of houses in my time. Turning to the man, or really butch woman, I decided to turn up the theatrics. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, you see there is nothing up my sleeves, nothing at all, but with a flick of my wrist and the magic words -Damn You Xythaen- you'll see that there is now a knife." In this situation it was flight or fight, but I work best against a singular foe.

Dashing forward, even faster than when I was fleeing the beggars, I slid between the tattooed man's legs and slashed both his achillies tendons. As the man fell, Ryteb jumped up and stabbed him right in the back. It was crude and crass, but if I took this guys area, I might get a bit of breathing room.

"Next time..." I panted, leaning beck against the rock, "At least be a woman. I prefer to be the one doing the fucking..."