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[indent]Ash had been sitting in quiet contemplation, awaiting the game plan from the rougher looking individual who looked very much like a veteran of the Wal. From the glances he was getting from the others, it was apparent that nothing much had been said, the air held a tension of anticipation and excitement. She was currently wrestling with her own ideals on the situation, would she partake even if this opportunity didn't live up to her own expectations? She was pulled from her thoughtfulness as the defacto leader spoke, only to be quite loudly interrupted.

"WHERE IS THIS 'LOOSE BATTON SIGN-EASY'?"

Ash shot a glance to, who was apparently, Loose Batton. She noted the quick look of acknowledgement, before a sort of stillness overcame him. He met the challenge head-on, which was foolish. When he forced the other man to bite down on his arm and labeled him as a maneater however, well, she had to respect those kind of tactics—It was positively genius. The large burly fellers from Meat where apparently as thick as the product they handled. An axe whirled through the air, declaring their intention to act first and probably not bother with asking questions later. Ash stood quickly, careful not to knock over her chair and draw attention. Every patron in the bar became whipped into a bloodthirsty, free-for-all frenzy. Ash took a step back and assessed the situation.

Ash found the familiar, comfortable feeling of an arrow sliding between her fingers and drawing back softly against the string. The barman had procured a heavily barbed spear, and was promptly ramming it into anybody who felt they may pilfer some of his stock. The meatheads were in a frenzy, the trio that had busted through the door were taking the brunt of the action. In one smooth motion Ash raised her bow and drew back the string, smiling inwardly as the feather brushed her cheek. A split second later she loosed the arrow. A hollow twang played across her ears as the arrow streaked across the bar, embedding itself into the chest of the unfortunate individual who had sneered at her.

Another arrow found its place resting against the bowstring, the act was second nature by now. Off to one side cripple-hand was bounding across physical bodies as if they were merely stepping stones for him to propel himself from; She wondered idly if he was a top dweller, with the way he moved, as she let another arrow fly loose. A man from clothing hurtled sideways violently, clutching desperately at the arrow threaded through his neck.

Ash's arrows found two more targets, covering her would-be companions, before she realized they'd already made their way out the front door. Unwilling to be left behind, especially now, Ash skirted around the very edge of the tumult. Nobody seemed to be paying her much mind, caught up in the fervor of battle as they were, until she was nearly at the exit. A snake of a man slithered in front of her, his dirty, dark clothing stained with blood—As was the sword held tightly between his two hands. He lunged at her and Ash threw herself to the side, rolling over a table. She careened into another body as she tried to draw her bow.

Her foe flipped the table at her, causing her to dodge once more. She was closer to the door now, and chose to dive out of the bedlam rather than attempt to finish that particular fight. She returned her arrow to its home and ran towards the others. She didn't ask questions about the unconscious motor-head on the ground, she would have done the same thing. You had to look out for yourself out here, and this way Loose Batton now had easy transportation for his recruits. 

"Let us depart, Grounded companions." 

Ash turned an eye to the, now confirmed, top dweller as she climbed into the final seat, [color=778899]"I'll second that sentiment."[/color][/indent]