The footfall heard before had at last found its way to the stalled fray in the form of a pale elf - a man no less with a dark glint of ill, malevolent intent in his eye. Letting out a hearty cackle, he tossed aside the broken mace head where it slid to the felled orc who steadied himself despite the bloody fury calling from within the destroy these thugs. With a clink to the pale elf's step and motion from the vibrant color of his chain shirt, he brandished a blade of which held a faint yellowed glint; magic, beyond a doubt.

Pointing forth the sword with a menace, he spurred the men to attack, which they did.

[i]"You had your chance to walk away."[/i] The man muttered as he flexed his gesturing hand, pulling back in footwork as the whirl of a thrown blade cut across and through the side of his shoulder; crimson welled from the glancing blow, of which was deep enough that it was sure to leave a scar.

In one fluid motion as his rebuke, the man with but a single gold to his unspoken name cast his hand out while the red ran down that same limb.

The place between the elf and the two thugs left suddenly found itself not so empty as the air shuddered with an unnatural stir and a savage growl. A roiling mist billowed into existence for a moment and as it settled in that same time - a being of pure magic melded into form and became tangible. A fierce set of eyes belonging to a jungle cat set themselves upon Cario and lunged from below his blade, razor claws freed and calling for his flesh.

Having divided the conflict up, separating the men from their leader in the way of furious leopard, the thugs found themselves caught between their enemies. It was either to take up arms against the orc and robed man, or the cat - the interloper beside the door preparing another spell.