[center][h1][b][color=8B0000]Black Maw Syndicate[/color][/b][/h1][/center]
[b]Kelvara[/b] snarled as she watched [b]Steelchain[/b] crumple, metal arm dangling uselessly. The warforged’s agonized mechanical whirring filled the warehouse as it stumbled blindly into a stack of crates. Another crew down—this was turning into a massacre.

But the dark elf had survived worse odds. Her scarred face twisted into a vicious grin.

[b]Kelvara[/b] feinted high with her curved blade, then dropped low, her steel biting deep into the back of Barrock’s leg. Dark blood flowed and his stance wavered. Meanwhile, [b]Grimjaw[/b]—blood trickling from his mouth—brought his mace down hard, striking the already dented section of Barrock’s armor and driving the warforged’s earlier damage deeper into the metal.

Across the warehouse floor, [b]Whiskers[/b] groaned and rolled onto his side, rabbit ears flattened against his skull. Battered and bloodied, his beady eyes were still tracking Rowan’s movements. The demihuman’s hand crept toward a concealed throwing knife at his belt.

[color=FFCC00]“Not... finished…”[/color] [b]Whiskers[/b] wheezed, muscles coiling despite his injuries. With a sudden burst of speed, he hurled the poisoned blade at Rowan’s back.

[b]Ironboot[/b] had weathered the assault, his thick skull having absorbed the worst of Rowan’s kicks. At the last moment, the dwarf caught Rowan’s heel strike with both hands and redirected it. [b]Ironboot’s[/b] meaty fist drove deep into Rowan’s gut. Blood streamed from his broken nose, but dwarven constitution was legendary for a reason. He rolled away and scrambled toward his war hammer.