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[center][H1][b][u][color=c4df9b]Finbarr Callaghan[/color][/u][/b][/H1]
[b]The Galactic Bazaar[/b][/Center]
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[indent][quote]Those funnels of darkness detached from the cloud, each one giving itself a grotesque but humanoid shape before manifesting it into reality. Landing on the ground, in front of the unconscious Alan and facing everyone else were what could only be described as...

"By order of the Low-Father, we demand justified subduction by enforcers of local law! Surrender or Die!" One of them said, pointing its axe at them. Even Maria was not avoiding conflict as one of them grew wings and headed right for her. The goblins on the ground - about the same amount as the amount of people currently at the location - did not wait for an answer as they rushed towards them like old-age savages.[/quote]

[color=c4df9b]"A, shut the hell up!"[/color] Finbarr turned towards one of the charging goblin creatures, the flickering light in his eyes betraying a sense of annoyance and irritation at the savages that had just threatened them. Granted, it was a natural reaction to the appearance of a pyrokinetic pillar in the middle of a market place, but death threats were just something else entirely. Was due process just not a thing anymore?

In any case, golden and purple lights shimmered around Finbarr's hands, magic energies coalescing into a beam of energy that struck the nearest charging Goblin right at its chest, sending it flying away several meters towards one of the stalls, which had become empty as the people or person manning it had already fled out of panic. Another goblin got too near for his comfort, and was immediately locked into place by Finbarr's Spacetime Lockdown spell, an azure beam that pulsated with quantum magic striking its head and exploding into the dimensional cage it was now stuck in.

Huffing, Finbarr then threw open a portal that led into the Xuanzang's doorstep, motioning at Trajan, who was carrying a still smoking Alan, as well as the others, to get a move on.

[color=c4df9b]"Get your lazy bums out, now!"[/color][/indent]

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[center][H1][b][u][color=8882be]Trajan Pyke[/color][/u][/b][/H1]
[b]The Galactic Bazaar[/b][/Center]
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[indent][quote]"...Was it good for you?" He weakly said in jest, a just as weak smile on his face, perhaps as some way to try and ease up the tension in the air, or as a way to show to his likely worrying friends that he was alright. Either way, as soon as he said that, he collapsed to the floor, residual heat still on him.

"It's ok, he's unconscious but still alive. Everyone volunteering to take him back, now's your chance. Be careful though, his body's still exuding some heat."[/quote]

[color=8882be]"Come on now... ouch!"[/color] Trajan recoiled a bit as he touched Alan's still smoking form with his bare hand, lightly scalding his finger tips in the process. He waved his hand to cool it off a bit, and looked back at Alan, slipping on a pair of gloves as he carefully reached for the pyrokinetic, feeling the heat wafting out of Alan's body as if he was holding a recently doused out barbeque grill. Gently and carefully, he lifted him up, and started towards the portal that Finbarr had opened, only his peripheral vision to catch one of the gibbering goblins approaching his position with an axe in hand.

Trajan scoffed, and placed Alan unto his left shoulder as he pulled out his Revolving Blade Sword from the sheath on his belt. He waved it in front of the goblin, a gesture meant to warn it to stay away. [color=8882be]"Stay the hell away, snake eyes."[/color] Trajan growled, protectively waving his sword at the creature. [color=8882be]"Or else you'll taste a one thousand degree hot blade up your ass!"[/color] As he did so, he kept on inching towards the portal, aiming the blade at the goblin, as it was getting closer and closer...[/indent]

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[center][H1][b][u]Klein Harris[/u][/b][/H1]
[b]The Galactic Bazaar[/b][/Center]
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[indent]As the cavalcade of goblins strode forward to strike as one, they'd find an unwelcome interruption to their assault. No less than twenty other creatures had been formed; grotesque monsters, formed out of the fears of everyone in the immediate vicinity. Some would see their vengeful ex-wives and abusive husbands, only if they were seven feet tall, had very sharp teeth, were constantly dripping blood, and smelt of rotting flesh. Some took the form of what could only be described as some strange amalgamation of man and animal, humanoid creatures with the heads of dogs and snakes and spiders, hissing like demented mental asylum patients as they threw themselves towards the nearest goblin or enforcer with wanton abandon. They didn't care if they got hacked apart by axes, or if they were shot; they would just charge, eager to cut open whatever they fell upon.

Klein shuddered inwardly. He had despised his own magic, as it was a horrible thing that called forth death and nightmares, but it was useful, nonetheless. If anything, they were going to be a distraction, as those weren't particularly durable. 

This won't be enough, though. Klein reached into his bag, and produced an Avtonat Kalashnikova 89, a favorite of insurgents and mercenaries. He would, with impunity, unload plasma fire at the goblins that got too near to him as he steadily retreated. Not today, Satan.[/indent]