[center][h2]Kuur Salcair - Westroad Village[/h2][/center]

[i]Six.[/i]

Kuur had counted just as Lilith had. While the archer doubted that the swordswoman had any intention of competing, it still stirred her fighting spirit. As Kuur hauled herself up the side of the house she'd taken cover behind, the memory of Lilith's carefully kept sword sprung to mind. The other woman was a fighter, and a good one at that. There was no shame in loosing to someone like that. She grunted as she dismissed the thought. That was weakness. She wasn't going to lose to [i]anyone[/i], much less a woman who barbarically carried around what amounted to a cleaver. 

The green eyes narrowed as she glanced up at the top of the flaming guard tower. The distinct form of the bandit leader stood out even behind the wafting smoke that obscured the features of the assaulting Reclaimers. The bow creaked as Kuur lined up her arrow and kept her breathing slow and steady as she waited for the time to finish the man. A smile played on her lips as her breath stirred the taunt string. She only needed a moment, an opening. When he was wounded, when he was overconfident, when that guard dropped and she had the perfect shot.

She'd [i]win.[/i]

[center][h2]Nickolas Rienbach - Westroad Village[/h2][/center]

The dark mage barely blinked as Marcus skillfully removed the remains of the Mire curse from the downed dancer. While his old master had been a healer of rare skill, he'd always assumed that was the base for competence. The Reclaimers were in good hands. 

"Thank you, good Sir Marcus. For both my leg and the girl." He ruffled his hair, glancing up at the burning building where he could just barely catch figures moving around. "I'm no help with actual healing, I'm afraid." His features suddenly twisted in pain as he tried to stand, falling onto his rear as soon as he tried to move his wounded leg. The dark mage gestured to the tower. "Sir Marcus? Can you help me up, please? I have to help them up there."