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	That damned, psychic damage casting halfbreed bitch. If Cavendish had a regret that very instant, it was that the second of his Eldritch Blasts didn't connect and turn her into a fleshy pile on the cobblestones of his township. Oh, she would get hers as soon a the rest of them were stabbed within an inch or two of becoming soup. And now the mystery was solved as to what hurt his brain and made him wander out of the silversmith's place. Of course. She [i]would[/i] get hers. 

	Almost as annoying as the Half-Elf was the disfigured Dragonborn. Pitiful as his attempt might have been to hurt him (and it was, to his opinion), the dull demihuman was trying new things to hurt him. And true to form, as the shard of wood was simply not up to the task of giving him more than annoyance, the bit of burning pitch on the end seared into his fur and skin handily enough. He hissed, but did not let it go any further. Like hell he would give that creature the satisfaction. 

	Further, the painfully inexpert attacks launched by that Cleric gave Cavendish a mote of nuanced amusement. Oh, that threat was present and the magical, floating dagger could potentially end him - but putting that into practice appeared more in the realm of the academic than the applied. So he picked and poured over the most appropriate target for his attentions as only a veteran soldier might, which right now wasn't Marita. 

	But Kathryn. She ticked off [i]all[/i] the boxes on the checklist of people he wanted to outright murder, the tall strumpet in crappy armor who carried off his hammer - [i]his hammer[/i] - during what amounted to a due application of maintaining public order. And perhaps the greatest crime of all in this horrible set of circumstances is that she couldn't even use it with anything resembling experience. This was fantastic. Cavendish could vent a serious amount of frustration gutting this armored ash tree, while simultaneously getting his favorite hammer back. This was going to be a satisfying event after all. [color=darkgray][b]"I'm going to pry you open,"[/b][/color] he promised, turning his particularly vicious-looking shortsword toward Kathryn like a deranged surgeon. 

	A spry move forward found the Constable's sword channeling Kathryn's shield out of place. It was not a full and broad opening, but enough to exploit a spot where the interlocked chain links did not cover; slipping underneath a layer of metal and padding - coming out bloody. It was not his best work, to be sure, but it was an excellent start. His follow-up attack did not fare quite as well, probing again for the soft flesh of Kathryn's torso but not getting any more then a scratch. 

	The Constable, in his desire to end this woman's life as succinctly as possible in a horror of broad, ragged-edged puncture wounds, suddenly felt an uncanny [i]Surge[/i] of [i]Action[/i]. Bright, bloodthirsty eyes gleamed as he leapt, bringing his weapon down in a forceful stabbing motion with all of the power of his weight behind it. A great, hissing, [color=darkgray][b]"GRRRRAAAAAAAAH!"[/b][/color] came forth from the Wererat Constable as his blade struck true on Kathryn's skull - or it would have, except that he landed an off-angled blow upon her helmet, twisting the blade off to the side, harmlessly. His feet connected with the ground, amid the swarming rats, and the proud fighter known to mere mortals as Cavendish faltered his last attempt at an attack with an ungraceful stumble, clanging impotently against the less experienced warrior's shield. The frustrated look upon his face was priceless. 

	Obviously, this was NOT his finest moment. 

	Well, he was getting one final thing out of the way. One swarm of the rats under his thrall, upon his mental command, moved to swarm over Baronfjord to give him something to deal with, that he may continue his assault against Kathryn unabated. Another negative expression, this one of annoyance, crossed his rodenty features as the swarm couldn't quite latch their dozens of collective paws upon the Monk. They too did not have the best of luck in their endeavors. 

	Cavendish could at least content himself in the fact that he did spill blood. Just not as much as he might have liked. 

	

	
	
[color=red][b] - Kathryn has taken 6 points of Piercing damage.[/b][/color]
	
[color=red][b] - Areas to the north that are aflame or containing rats are still considered [i]Difficult Terrain[/i], with appropriate movement penalties. The flames have additional, quite painful penalties for being walked through.[/b][/color]


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	The yell sounded across the battlefield, but not from the obscured Guard. From his master, Cavendish: [color=darkgray][i]"NOW!"[/i][/color] followed by a noteworthy amount of [i]silence[/i] from the trees. [color=darkgray][i]"ALL THREE OF YOU, FIRE AT WILL!"[/i][/color] Yes, his little endgame trap was being sprung. But strangely, it ...really hadn't happened just yet. 

	Maybe they were going for coffee? Oh! They were just lining up perfect shots, that was all. Right?
 
 

[@rivaan] [color=f7941d][b]Kosara[/b][/color] is up. Per usual, tag me for the Top Of Round, please.