Flames. Screams. Moans of the soon to be dead. The crackle of burning wood where the torches which lit the room fell on the ground. All this and more could be heard from every direction. Luckily, there were now a few more holes in the tavern which allowed the smoke to clear out. 

Not that it mattered for the party…being as busy as they were to stay alive. 

The two tattooed assassins kept chanting their deadly spell with each passing minute bringing death’s cold embrace closer, as our party members fought off the bladed assassins. 

Lapis threw her dagger at one of them but missed, laughably, as the distance between them was just too great. The dagger stuck itself somewhere in between the distance with a loud [b]THUK[/b].

Dal managed to injure the first assassin, fueled by his anger of losing a new friend and just as he wanted to attack again, the assassin:

[hider=roll]
1d20+1 = 8 + 1 = 9 = Fail
[/hider]

Tried to strike him with his blade, ‘alas, Dal pulled his body out of the way a mere second before the blade would’ve claimed his life. Unfortunately, on the other side of the room, Arthur wasn’t as lucky. The second assassin closed the distance between the two faster than lightning and raised his blade to strike:

[hider=Roll]
1d20+1 = 9 + 1 = Minor Success
[/hider]

And managed to deliver a glancing blow to Arthur, a mere cut, nothing too dangerous. It looked like Fyr was now ready to make his move while the shadowed leader watched from a safe distance the battle, trying to pick out the most dangerous or weak member of the party to take out.