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        While the Wererat Guard struggled to decide where he wanted to take his faraway vacation, many harsh and painful things were going on nearby. But none of those mattered. 

        You see, he had been to a lovely archipelago not too far off the western coast of the Great Central Sea, controlled by a trad¹¹1e consortium, many years ago and longed to return one day. Or maybe that amazing spot in the Dwarven territories in the Noraljak Mountains where the women weren't quite as bearded as the men, were stout of hip, and [i]you betcha[/i] could they yodel. Perhaps instead he would travel not quite so far north as all that, and spend some silver at Khimn City, where that straightlaced circle of Paladins ran things but they also sponsored a grand Arena, with all the crowd-drawing festivities which accompanied it. While he was at it, if he hit paydirt with some side wagers, he'd travel all the way to The Lake, and take a ferry to Argentum. Oh, a savvy man could get lost in a walled city larger than some kingdoms, and there were a plethora of opportunities to start his life over, there. 

        But the thought that really struck home for him was, despite the fact that when this fight started, the opposing side could clearly see himself and one other colleague, in addition to the Constable - with this in mind, it didn't look like [i]anyone[/i] from their group stopped to ask who (or what) it was that toppled over that first barrel, which cut off the eastern thoroughfare. 

        Yes, while he was already mentally vacationing far away, that was his nagging, intrusive thought.

[@Dragoknighte] [color=ff6c5c][b]Marita[/b][/color]'s turn.