The Hullabaloo at Maroo [Past]

[Arl Lotreab]

"Alright then, sounds like a plan. We'll sneak in from over here" Arl pointed at the map "As that seems like a good spot for getting close without being seen."

Arl stands up and begins getting ready to head out.

[Riesig]

Riesig dismisses the map layout and returns it to a belt around his waist. Finally some action. He followed ready to make things explode.

[Drevin]

Drevin didn't much care for all the talking that they'd done so far anyway. The short man checked his ax was secure and headed in the same direction as the rest of group.

[DarkAbyssKeeper]

So, the group headed down towards the town proper. They slipped out of the forest and made their way across much more open plains, making sure to put themselves at an angle where they were unlikely to be spotted on their approach. When they neared the town hall they noted it was a two storey affair with plenty of windows and two separate entrances at the back, one presumably leading to the kitchen and another to a storage area.

When they were close enough to count heads they found there were probably eight people spread around inside the town hall, four drinking near the stills and barrels they intended to blow up. Which would leave seven people, probably including the boss, in the dye house.

Every member of the Crimson Murder is wearing an item of clothing that is probably meant to be Maroo's trademark dark red but is instead day glow pink.

Split up as you see fit and give me some combat posts. You can go for smaller posts and play off each other or larger posts which I will awards bonus BP for. Randall will go whichever way gets fewer people. Every bandit can throw one fireball, I'll intervene if you decide to encounter the cooks or continue on to the dye house.

[Riesig]

Oh yeah. It was time. He knew the plan...or at least the part of the plan that mattered to him. Blow up things. And then presumably do something with the rest of the bandits. He waited till the others were likely in position. He watched the four members getting drunk at the <s>bomb</s> barrels. When they all gathered for a quick refill, he figured this would be fun.

He cast Transmute on their barrel. The would be drunkards looked confused when they couldn't fill their tankards. "Huh? This was full a moment ago... was the last thing they uttered while they still had eyebrows. With a snap, Riesig ignited the now volatile cloud of liquor. The explosion was loud and echoed down the street. That should be a good signal for the others. Riesig stepped out from his hiding place and faced his now eyebrowless foes. "You know, the singed and hairless look really works on you guys. Makes you look less scruffy." He taunted at them.

Now, doubly burned (at least in Riesig's mind), the bandits called their fireballs to hand. "Oh no! You've got some fire. Whatever will I do? Oh, right, do it better than you!" With that he called up 2 dark flame fireballs. In a quick exchange he landed one of them into the head of the first guy who had gone to take a drink. The good news was that the strong strength impact was more than they expected and got knocked out as the dark flames starting eating away at his pink ascot. Unfortunately, the other 3 fireballs took Riesig in the chest. Grunting and doubling over with the impact and the slowly spreading fire, he stood up and took a steadying breath as he brushed off the fire like one would dust. The fire flowed with his hands and he ran his flaming hands setting his hair alight with hot head at the same time.

The three remaining bandits nodded among themselves and drew their swords. As they charged at him yelling, Riesig drew his new bow and shot at the one in the center hoping he didn't have time to dodge. The impact caught him and spun him down, now wailing at the wooden extension he now sported from his leg. Well, he had been aiming for the neck, but good enough he supposed. Putting the bow back Riesig was ready for the two that now got close to him. One got a slice across his left forearm while he was too focused on deflecting the other down his right. With a slowly less human growl that turned into a hiss by the syllable, Riesig turned to face the bandit that now seemed to pale. His right hand shot to the one he deflected, putting a torch into his mouth. The bandit couldn't scream through the pain, but he did flail and get a few superficial cuts across Riesig's back. But that didn't even get Riesig's attention.

For he had let his mists flow out and cloak the area around them once he was cut; all while he held the remaining bandit's sword in his crocodillian hand. His body having grown taller he now looked down on the man. "Bad choice." was hissed out through the maw of teeth where there had before been a human head. The bandit gained some of his senses and dropped the sword and tried to begin running. He let him make some progress, but moved with him to keep him in the mist. He didn't need to see him to know where he was. And as the bandit bumped into a few walls, he found he had been led to the back of a dead end alley. Done playing with his prey, Riesig snapped forwards and crushed the man's sword arm in his jaws. He ripped it off and swallowed it while the man screamed in front of him. A thought bubbled through the rage. Alive. The guard wants them alive. With intense effort, he shifted back to human and reached down to the cowering man. Disgruntled at being denied the hunt, he simply took a torch and cauterized the wounded area. The man passed out from the pain almost instantly.

Panting, he dragged him back to the other three. He stopped the flames from the first one, though they had done some damage to the face and neck area. He also grabbed the flames from the buildings nearby that were starting to find purchase. He let them just fizzle out as he looked for the one he had shot with the arrow. He followed the trail of blood to a door to a small building. He sent his mists out under the crack and found the guy hiding just behind the door. Irritated, he simply got close to the door and called in, "I will burn this house down around you. If you value not being dead, come out peacefully."

The bandit, now smelling the scent of blood and burnt flesh, seemed to have a change of heart. "Uh, yeah. Ok. I surrender. Please don't kill me!" He wobbly got back up to his feet and opened the door. He looked out at his friends, and swallowed hard. His choice reaffirmed, he threw out his weapon and walked towards Riesig. He escorted him to his friends, and took their various remaining pink articles and began to tie up their hands and mouths while he disarmed them of anything that might be anything. The one still conscious kept sobbing and almost gagging through the cloth.

Eventually, Riesig felt he had them secured enough and sat down himself. Dehydrate gave him a ball of water to wash his arm wound. The dirt and dust clean from it for now, he wrapped some linen he went and found in the house around it. Not a great wound care, but it would work until the axeman could help him again. He would just wait a few moments to catch his breath before going to the others. Yeah that was it. It wasn't like this hurt a lot or anything. No, that could never be it. He was totally a badass, not a young punk who could barely take a hit. Totally. Just ignore the slight quiver in his lower lip.

[Arl Lotreab]

Free reign to do a whole fight, eh? So be it! I assume this can count as multiple posts for effects and such.

While Riesig was being a badass young punk that couldn't take a hit, Arl was busy charging along with one of her companion(s) to take out everyone within earshot of the yelling drunks.

The four men inside had been busily playing a game of darts against the right wall. The myriad holes in the wall suggested at least one of the bandits had crap aim, with none of the lot having scored better than the yellow ring as of yet. Two of the men were standing near the dartboard, chatting while pulling the darts out, while the other two were standing near the left wall waiting to have a go of their own.

"I got left. Surrender anytime!" announced Arl has she split to rush the left duo. Sounds of battle had echoed from in front of the hall shortly after Arl charged in. She had shifted her spear into a shield with a single, 8" thick spike in the middle. In her other hand was an iron machete.

Her opponents were a man with a pink jacket, and a man wearing pink shoes. The jacket man immediately threw a held dart towards the charging warrior. Arl started to block, but it was unneeded. The dart went unbelievably wide; clearly she'd lucked out with the barnside-misser of the group. The shoe man, however, launched a ball of fire with deadly precision.

"Leaves!? Against us?" laughed the shoe man as the ball lightly exploded against Arl's shield. The smile faded, however, when the shield emerged singed but otherwise unharmed. For a member of a fire-themed bandit group he certainly didn't know much about good and bad burning woods. He recovered quickly, however unsheathing the blade at his side in the nick of time to meet that of his opponent.

Alas, the flow of the fight once again eluded him - what came was not the blade, but still the shield! Arl rammed the man, then focused the connection between herself and the life-bound weapon to propel it deeper still! The spike bit into his upper chest, although not deep enough to damage any internal organs. A strange, sickly black light began to spread from the point of contact.

The jacket man had also drawn his weapon - a shortsword - and that had successfully crossed paths with Arl's own machete. Arl could hardly spare the attention to do much more than block, which fortunately was proving to be enough.

Shoe-man, meanwhile, had grab the back of Arl's shield. "Let's see.. how YOU like it..". To his horror he had been mistaken again! With a thought Arl called the shield back to her, tearing it from the shoe-man's hand, changing the angle, and then propelling it once more into his body. This time it dug deep, the man's intestines shooting up with pain followed by the black light."WHAT IS IT DOING TO ME!?"

"If you wa-AHG" Arl's staggered back, her senses reeling from the fireball to the right side of her face the scarf man had skillfully delivered. It appeared she'd made a mistake of her own - the man was just nearsighted! Her right eye had closed in time, and her helm had taken most of the actual fire, but the equilibrium of blades had been broken. Jacket man knocked the woman's sword hand out of position with a wide blow and snatched her neck with the hand that had fired the shot. "I g-got you now! How about that surrender?" Arl's response was a jewel-smashing kick.

"FINE THEN!" The man went to strike with his sword hand, only to find Arl had switched grips during the kick in order to swiftly bring the machete to his neck. It wasn't much of a grip for leverage, but the force of the blade pressing against his flesh felt like it'd be just enough for a smile. "How about it?"

The shield had once again returned to Arl's other hand while this was happening; its previous victim rather distracted by what he could only imagine was his impending doom. Shoe man's fear had mingled with the vagueness of his searing innards, giving the impression that his entire sickly glowing torso was slowly being destroyed from within! "I SURRENDER MAKE IT STOP!" cried shoe-man. His weapon clattered to the ground as he himself keeled and wept.

The woman ignored him for the time being, her seemingly emotionless gaze instead focusing on the jacket man has he pondered his own answer. His lips spread into faint smile. "Very well." His sword arm surged upward, aiming to pierce behind Arl's chin for the kill. The jacket man's tensing was too obvious, however, and the warrior attached to that chin had already stepped back before the blow could connect. But it could not be said there was no silver lining! Arl's backwards grip was in no position for a backstep-swipe, forcing her to release jacket man the edge.

Arl's ever-serious battle face became a bit gloomier as she dropped her machete and grabbed the man's sword hand. She was pretty sure her strength exceeded his, and for once in this fight someone was right about their assumptions. She dropped her shield and grabbed her foe's other limb as well. "Last chance."

Jacket goes for a lower body kick of his own, but is blocked by Arl's knee. This continued for a few moments, the pause in the fighting giving Jacket's weeping ally a chance to recollect himself. Well, a little. If he turned the tide.. wait, what was happening with the shield? Arl's shield, the object shoe man currently hated the most in the world, was no longer a shield at all! It was shifting.. turning into a.. "George, it's becoming a sword!"

George glanced at shoe-man in confusion. What was becoming a-

Arl released George's empty hand.

George seized Arl's right arm to force her to release his sword!

Arl pulled her autumn-leaf shortsword to her left hand.

George pried his arm free! Haha!

Arl plunged the sword into George's neck.

George gargled out a bit of blood as he crumpled to the floor, his earlier laughter continuing even as Arl pulled the blade back out. He looked up with one, final smile, and then slumped against the ground to never do so again.


Shoe man lowered his head at the sight. He could not, however, help himself from mumbling "You, ah, you heard I surrendered, right?"

"..right?"

[Drevin]

Drevin slid through the doorway to the tavern right behind Arl, his ax already held lightly in his grip. The two men on the right of the room turned quickly towards him, one with a nerve wracked look on his face but the other one slid away from the wall with a graceful motion and smoothly drew a rapier with a glinting curved edge. Drevin quickly realized that he had been mistaken as the fighter was definitely a woman with her hair pinned up underneath the triangle shaped hat she was wearing. The man on the other hand was still leaning on the wall and was fumbling inside his jacket for something.

The half blood fey stalked towards the bandits on the right with a mostly blank expression on his face, the only indication of any emotion being a flame burning in the depths of his dark eyes. He raised a finger towards the man fumbling in his jacket "Anchor." He cast the spell as he stalked towards the woman. Drevin decided by the way the woman held herself that she was the more dangerous opponent and so he wasn't entirely surprised when she lazily dodged the ax with a slight laugh. Drevin hadn't even noticed the dagger in her off hand that slid easily through the upper layer of muscle of his right forearm.

A table splintered under the impact of his poorly aimed swing. Small flames began to lick at the edges of the ax blade. The woman pointed her sword at him with a mocking smile on her face. "I like a strong man as much as the next girl but don't try too hard now it's just not a good look." Her voice had a careless mirth that accented it's mocking tones.

Drevin yanked his ax free and leered at the woman that seemed to glow red in front of him. She was faster than him and clearly well trained. Her words would have annoyed him if he wasn't intent on deciding how he was going to kill the woman before she could kill him. He was about to make his move when the wall man seemed to find whatever it was he had been searching for because the previously barely existent red glow around him flared to match the woman.

With a glare towards his female antagonist he pivoted swinging his weapon in a horizontal arc towards the anchored man. A one-handed crossbow bolt tore into Drevin's left shoulder just before his own blow landed true. The man's eyes widened slightly in confusion as he looked up at his own torso standing above his now disembodied head.

The woman let out a strangled cry of surprise and lunged towards Drevin intending to skewer him from behind with the deadly blade. He didn't have time to think about freeing his now fully blazing ax from the tavern wall as he spun the the side narrowly avoiding the swordswoman's strike. He heard her blade thud into the wall as the woman snarled at him with red fur now sprouting out of her skin "I'LL KILL YOU!"

Drevin spun back to face his opponent, sliding his daggers out of their sheathes. He winced at the pain in his shoulder but stayed focused on the task at hand. He crouched slightly and held the daggers at the ready, a wicked glint in his eyes. "I like a strong woman as much as the next guy but don't try too hard now, it's not a good look." The regurgitated line was delivered with a cruel and biting tone.

She lunged at him with a wild shriek slashing at his torso. Drevin sent the blade glancing off one of his own daggers, barely escaping a lethal blow. He swung his other hand around in an attempt the stab his other dagger into her shoulder but a swift kick aimed at his stomach had him stumbling backwards.

The fox shifter wasn't going to let him rest on his heels, she slashed at him diagonally screaming something unintelligible as she did. Drevin hopped backwards and with a flick of his wrist sent one of the daggers flying towards her. The iron blade sank into the woman's shoulder spinning her around. Drevin wasn't going to miss the opportunity. While she was still faced away from him he kicked a boot into her knee and jumped onto her back when she fell, slamming his remaining dagger into her hand pinning it to the ground. "Now stay there."

He carefully climbed off the woman who had descended into tears of frustration and loss. He made sure to keep an eye on her as he yanked his ax out of the wall and the bolt out of his shoulder. The half blood cast heal on his wounds to stop the bleeding as he strode back to the weeping woman. He jerked his head towards Arl who had just finished up. "I don't suppose you brought any rope, Her current bindings will eventually kill her and I've taken a liking." He casually kicked the cutlass aside.

[Arl Lotreab]

"I can grow som- and that hand is going to need to be wrapped. Also cleaned but that's probably going to have to wait... I guess there's no lack of alchohol outside though?" Arl quickly glanced back at her own captive, prompting him to resume groveling.

She keeps him in her line of sight while continuously casting weave to form bindings for the surviving bandits. "Take their weapons. They might be able to break out of this... should we insist they both get drunk? Like, not black out drunk but enough that they'll be easy to catch if they escape?"

Arl pondered this a moment more, then shook her own head at the idea. "That'd take too long, we have to get going as it is. She glared at the still-groveling captive. "If they try to escape I guess we'll just kill them and be done with it."

Arl then moved to bind the fox lady. The terrified Shoe-Man, seeing the warrior finally walk away, breathed a sigh of relief. It was time to take charge of his destiny.

He downed every alcoholic beverage within reach, broke a bottle against his head to make it look like he fought it out, and did his best to slump against the wall in a safe black-out position. Survival ensured!