All of this commotion brought the thing's head up like a serpent, sinuous and undeniably quick. Even as the knife Faeril had thrown sailed above its head, Raddek grabbed the hilt just before the demon-man kicked out at his shin, buckling him. Raddek was an experienced warrior, grimacing but using his fall to add to the momentum of his next stab. Had it been anyone else, he would have impaled the thing, but this opponent wasn't human, at least not fully. The rags it wore rippled as its body twisted grotesquely, bones snapping and cartilage ripping as it invariably snaked out of the way of the knife and coincidentally, Faeril's bolt. The blade bit into the timber, the thing rearing its arm back to strike. Raddek attacked like a cornered animal, swinging his off-hand arm like a club, striking the thing in the chest and sending it careening down the stairway. 

Beren didn't wait. He sprang over Raddek's prone form like a hunting cat, pushing off the wall with his feet and speeding after the creature like a dwarven steam train. He wasn't seen for another hour, evidently having slayed the thing on the streets, but in that time, Emmaline's magical eyes saw something strange. Something with horrifying implications. 

On the mutant, there was a vibrant aura of magic ensconcing him, but a kind that hurt the eye to look upon. Once she looked at Raddek, or Faeril, or even down at herself, she would see a smaller version of the same aura, and a mark on her hand that glowed like hellflame. It had the visage of a gaping maw wrought in blood, and though it couldn't be seen with normal eyes, her glowing vision caught it as easily as a lighthouse seen from a ship at midnight.  

[hr] 

The next morning... 

The [i]Ubrico Soldati[/i] was closed. 

Not for the patrons, of course. But for any outsiders. Jonathan Albrieco had been woken up quiet rudely in the night, and wailed like a ghost when he saw the broken tiles upstairs and the overthrown chairs and broken tables from the mutant's flight. The crew spent a good hour speaking to the innkeeper and convincing him of what happened and that they weren't vandals. Eventually he believed them, but until they found him some beer, they were paying full price for breakfast and keeping out of trouble or they would find a different place to sleep. 

The slim barmaid from yesterday, who's name was Isolde, came into the establishment with her face white with shock. Explaining she had found a large group at the site of a ravaged corpse, and then another just like it with a similar group of onlookers. This one merely a mile away, towards the docks. She did not explain the details, but as she began to help cook everyone breakfast, she was free to speak to after she served the food. Raddek had risen first, sitting alone to ponder, though there were four chairs around him to fill. He watched the window as he sipped his drink, waiting for his food and Isolde, who arrived to place it down before him. 

Beren sat at another table, further down the room on the otherside of the door. Knowing he wouldn't see any strange faces today, he also hadn't expected everyone else to be up so early, his shirt stripped off and his ass on the chair. A clay pot of cold water and a cloth lay on the table, and he winced as he tried to clean his burns, until Emmaline pulled up a chair next to him to help, which surprised him. "Sorry, I thought we- I didn't know we were going to do this so soon." 

The statement had an innuendo he hadn't caught until he said it, which colored his face. He wasn't embarrassed in such a state last night, but during a social situation, once could tell he was a bit abashed. He tried to find his tongue. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"