[center][h3][color=ff9900]Skarsat[/color][/h3][/center]

Neh'miah's words caused a chill feeling to erupt somewhere down on Skarsat's big spine and to surge upwards right into his head. Spontaneously trying to find someone who might share the same feeling, the Tork turned his head towards Percival and looked the man into the face. Was he really the only one who had an extremely bad feeling about the thief's happy announcement about Gerranti not being on the street being 'excellent' ?

Skarsat's worries would most likely have been tremendously much more intense had either he or Vargas' left hand known that, at this point, the whole assumption of this statement was no longer true in the first place. The sheriff had left the building already and Neh'miah was right about to jump out of it and into the streets below...

However, without that kind of updated knowledge, Skarsat saw little alternative to Neh'miah's route. In fact it did appear not so unappealing to himself for it would spare him from having to walk through the main hall and past the sheriff and his guards with both the key and, more importantly, that small package Percy had just given him. How many 'helping hands' of a busy tavern had nothing more important to do than to move around some small parcels that definitely and obviously did not contain any cooking ingrediends, except for maybe exquisite spices ? That thing was an open invitation for some sort of inspection that would hold things up and pose a danger in itself for sure.

So the Tork followed the thief's route towards the window and lifted his legs and butt onto the opening's frame with surprising ease after having moved his head through to the other side first. Yet as he already prepared for the jump there was a grinding noise and Skarsat's attempt to lean forwards further came to a rather abrupt stop. His shoulders were too broad!

Not too broad in the sense that even some simple wiggling and squeezing wouldn't be able to do the trick, but the otherwise smooth surface of his leather shoulder pieces was disrupted where two leather patches had been stitched together with some necessary overlap. The edge of the window's wooden frame now was pushing against the leading edge of said overlap and threatening to lift the upper piece up and tear the seam apart if he'd just try to force his way through.

He could easily have decided to just revert the process and get back in, but why should he do that if there was a helping hand just behind him that could fix this minor issue ?

[color=ff9900]"Erm... Percy ?"[/color] the Tork addressed him with some apparent embarrassment. [color=ff9900]"Can you help with this ?"[/color]

"You mean whether I can lend a helping foot to my very first guest who [i]wants[/i] to be kicked out of the tavern ? No problem!"

[color=ff9900]"No! I meant can you just push these sea..."[/color]

Skarsat's words, as far as he could get them out, already mixed up with the noise of Percy picking up momentum inside. The latter could kick surprisingly hard, though absolutely not to his excuse one might add that he was exceptionally motivated and probably slightly impaired in his thinking by some serious hyper-nervosity!

The Tork now found himself following the fixed laws of gravity in a less than controlled descent which, given the falling height, would hardly last for a second. Also, since Percy had added some considerable horizontal momentum to the whole equation, Skarsat would land further out on the street than he had intended to do himself. Now there were obstacles down below he had definitely neither anticipated nor silenty hoped for.

He had already opened his mouth to shout out a warning towards ground zero that much more than the legendary Newtonian apple was going to hit when he realized that doing so would also trigger the attention of the guards in and outside the inn which probably was even worse than what was inevitably going to happen next. Skarsat moved knees, feet, shoulders and everything else he could that was not an as-flat-and-smooth-as-possible surface out of the way so hopefully it wouldn't turn out that bad.

The parcel! That damn small packet! What if it contained glass that would be crushed, shatter and pierce both his chest and Neh'miah's back ? He needed to get rid of that, too! The Tork tossed it away at the last moment so he had his hands free for intercepting the impact.

On the good side of things it was quite a bit softer than it might have been had he hit the ground beneath directly! On the other hand though it was clear that a certain, poor thief had to take the brunt of it. Still Skarsat's face hit some piece of cobblestone pretty hard and some piece of broken glass lying around caused a modest cut on it that started to bleed.

As Skarsat rolled to a dead stop he could already feel the anger surge in him. That... Percival! No matter where this blithering idiot would try to hide, he'd get him even if he had to just tear the whole place down! The Tork looked up the window he had just been kicked out of, but nobody was to be seen. Apparently Vargas' helping hand had already realized that he both had done something wrong and that he was dealing with a very angry person capable of handling a bow at this point!