The Dagger Salvager is Dead
Fate snarled as the stench erupted in her face. Reeling backwards she yelped, dropping her hammers and pawing madly at her snout, which only caused her sensitive nose even more panic. No longer able to stand the odor, Fate leaned forward, dry heaving. She had just enough presence of mind to snag her hammers and drag them with her as she fumbled away from the vile heap on the floor.
Hoping that Dirion would watch over Busker and Wink, Gharlyc left the bar. . . . Depnding on her reply (or lack of), Gharlyc readied himself to either carry or drag (he hadn't decided which) Pallas behind the bar, with or without Edward's help.
Instantly, Edward sprang up, and grabbed Ealdwine’s rapier from the dwarf. His eyes were still puffy and his nose was red, but he turned towards the carnage. The shaking had stopped. His sense of smell returned, and he covered his face at the stench that flooded his nostrils. He turned to the dwarf with resolve, ready to help him take Pallas away.
Pallas' wounds were still in the process of healing when she was placed in front of Gharlyc and Edward. She did not awake from her near-death experience but a word managed to escape her lips. "Sel....oria..."
And the bard's fingers began to strum a lively tune. The broken string was long forgotten, and of little consequence now. It was a piece he had learned many years ago, from a trio of dwarven musicians. The Dagger Dance, they had called it. It was an apt addition to the increasingly bloody and desperate ambiance.
The Needle Salvager
Jumping over tables, she quickly made her way behind the unsuspecting Salvager. Her eye glowing red, she kicked it in the back with enough force that should have sent him through the wall.
A few needles flung and scattered on the floor, and the Salvager
CRASHED clean through the wall and tumbled in the gravel and weeds in the darkness outside. The wall was now splintered and gaping wide, and a light breeze drifted coolly into the room.
The Salvager finally rolled to a stop against a disused trough, and it righted itself and marched -- unharmed -- back to the tavern. It ducked through the hole in the wall and once again stepped inside.
Turning to the Salvager that hurt Pallas, she slowly opened her eye and to everyone it would feel like the air in the room was surging towards her. Her Iris was pure red and suddenly her body started to glow. From her eye, aura like snakes began to crawl out of it and slither across her body until it completely engulfed her in a purple light. From within the purple light, her body seemingly dropped to all fours and her backend sprouted tails. She let out a blood boiling howl.
The air in the tavern -- and gravity itself -- sucked toward Seloria in her transformation. The walls trembled and creaked, weakened by the hole in the side of the tavern. Bottles fell from the shelves and smashed on the floor; ale and cheap wine pooled everywhere. At the Seloria-beast's howl, the shattered wall of the tavern cracked and buckled slightly; wood dust rained down from the rafters and settled in the spreading puddles of ale and wine and blood.
The Salvager paused, and did not approach. Seloria stood between it and the invisible Drow it was after.
The Salvager shot six needles into the purple energy in rapid procession, aiming for the body that crouched inside: her red eye, her throat, her hand, two to her rips and one to her abdomen. Before the last needle had met its mark, the Salvager broke into a sprint, leaped high in the air, and smashed its feet down into Seloria's back, with another needle ready to pierce the back of her skull.
The Scimitar Salvager Has Captured Milo
In less than a second, the Salvager had wrapped the injured and recovering Milo in a cocoon of white and gold fabric (the source of which was as mysterious as the face behind the mask). The Salvager draped the siren over its shoulder and proceeded to finish its mission. Starting with Fate.
The Salvager broke into a run at Fate -- who was still reeling over the stench of the rotted corpse -- leaped up and sliced the scimitar deftly at her throat.
The blade had a slightly sticky, bluish residue that gleamed on the metal. It was of a similar shade as that of the elixir that both Milo and Busker drank. Should the scimitar hit its target -- and cause a deep gash under Fate's coarse fur -- it would leave behind a numbing sensation, and the wound would begin to fester and rot.
The Salvager immediately turned to continue the fight, with Milo still over its shoulder, and sliced at her wrists and forearms with the intent of forcing her to let go of her weapons. It realized the danger they held.
Meanwhile, Milo -- who was stuck inside the cocoon of cloth, bouncing about on the Salvager's shoulder and unable to see anything that's going on -- would no longer feel any pain from the wound in her stomach. However, she had stopped breathing, and no longer needed to breathe at all.
The elixir had a grave side-effect, after all.
Busker and Wink
Once on his feet Dirion scrambled around the bar to the other side. Dirion this time yelled, "Are you okay?!" At Wink. Though it was still hard to hear he was confident she would hear him this time. As he was waiting for her to respond a tankard fell off the bar. Dirion looked up to see many of the mugs, cups, and other forms of liquid holders shaking on the edge of the bar. A hair's length from falling off and crashing into the defenseless body of Dirion and Wink. He shifted over Wink to try and cover her and felt himself get beaten by weighty tankards.
The fire in the hearth roared higher and wider than ever. The walls all around were creaking, wind gusted everywhere, a mounted troll's head slipped off its peg on the wall and clattered into the fire.
Wink was in shock. She shivered as if she were freezing, and she barely blinked while she watched the battle between the purple glowing monstrosity and the equally bizarre faceless-man. She vaguely heard Gharlyc's voice and didn't quite comprehend his presence or leaving. All of this was a nightmare. Just a nightmare she would wake up from at any moment.
She snapped out of it to see Dirion stooped over her, his face contorted in pain as heavy tankards and bottles cracked against his back. She stared at him with red, watery eyes, and instinctively wrapped an arm behind his neck and dragged him away from that spot just before a bigger, heavier bottle cracked into the floor.
Wink breathed heavily, staring out into the chaos of the tavern, wiped away knots of haggard hair from her face, while still clutching Dirion like a lifeline. "What's happening?" she asked in a voice that was much more composed than she looked. She swallowed and laid a hand on her father's forehead. The wound in his neck was gone, but he was still covered in blood. "What was that stuff the dwarf gave him?" This question was almost accusing; even now, while the world was falling apart around her, she could not trust anyone, Gharlyc least of all.
As she touched Busker, her father released a breath and did not breathe in again. While the chaos clanged and shouted and roared all around, Wink waited and watched for air to fill Busker's lungs again -- but Busker was no longer breathing.
"Dad?"
She shook Busker's shoulder, the other arm still clinging to Dirion. "Daad? Dad? Dad, breathe!" Panic was sinking in again, and she hiccupped back a sob.
Busker's eyes opened, and they were a glassy gray. The barkeep turned and sat up slowly, his expression blank.
Wink smiled in relief -- but when her father didn't acknowledge her, she tentatively reached out to him again. "Dad, come on, we have to get out of here."
Busker stood slowly, and only remained there motionless, listening to the cacophony of the tavern, because he could no longer see. He would never take another breath again.
Antlers,
Shifter_Master,
Neziul,
Iluvtoji,
IAmTheIsland,
Bugman,
Passable Writer,
Fetzen,
Not a Sayan,
Stanifly
