@Wiggin @ShiroKiyoshi @slifer @Elvario @Ur Degaton @Skyhunter @TheEccentric @The_Queer_Alien
( Getting close to a time skip perhaps. Kinda late at night. )
Despite the cold and Verity's best efforts, there was too much going on and too many people to effectively sway them all with her magic any a meaningful way. While some quickly got over looking at the devastation or the odd people that came out of the sewer covered in injuries, others continued to hang out or peek out their windows. Seemed like there was an instinctual motivation in the crowd to ensure they didn't miss a moment for fear of missing something important in their neighborhood. Whoever goes home early will surely miss out on what they will have to hear through gossip tomorrow. Their prying eyes lingered on the group as well as Solomon, Verity, and Gattas when approached by the injured Kaz, Kyrian, and Kieran.
A chill air kept the stink from the sewer at bay, but it also chilled Kaz to the bone. Kieran and Kyrian were also moist from their sewer hike and the cold air was especially uncomfortable. The filth, the breeze, and what remained of their clothes also stung their wounds. Fortunately, everyone agreed it was time to go. While Kaz was dragged away by Gattas, Solomon floated Kyrian and brought him too. All those making their way up the street would note the crowd of onlookers part to make way from them. At the head of the street was the Cringing Cockatrice. It's warm light and faint sounds of merriment were inviting to the weary group. As they traveled, the stench of half the party became particularly noticeable. The occasional moan and disgusted sound from a spectator make it clear it was not imagined and the light breeze was not sufficient depending on if they were down wind or not. Everyone except the night owls would be looking forward to getting cleaned up and sleeping soon...
Inside the Cringing Cockatrice:
"Shut up!"
"No you shut up!"
"Gonna make me?!"
"You betcha, bub!"
*violent sounds ensue*
Prior to the arrival of the party to the tavern, a brawl broke at, as they tend to do in a Mercantile patroned establishment. The lively common room was a large space with a circular bar in the middle surrounded by round tables. The main floor was divided between an upper and lower level with a difference in elevation of a few feet. Mugs of ale in varying states of fullness and abandonment littered the tables and floors along with scraps of food. Games of dice and cards were also abandoned as the brawl swept the room. The patrons that evening were mostly brawny, less washed, rough cut individuals. What women there were present were either cowering behind the central bar with the bartenders or they were part of the problem and being worse than the men who actively participated in the violence.
Despite the amount of fists and mugs sent flying, there were no casualties...yet. But damage to the tavern was starting to mount. One of the ceiling suspended chandeliers looked like it was gonna give as two halflings hung from it while slugging each other. A lizard folk picked up a whole table and chucked it, nailing a half-giant square in the face. He fell over, crushing another table and pinning a wizard who started shouting profanities and started casting fire magic. Those on the second floor and outside the main door created crowds that helped keep the rowdiness contained to the common room. The hired stuff were decidedly in need of the proprietors assistance.
Elsewhere in town,
Despite knowing, generally, where the assassin next to him was, Thorne's blade seemingly missed its target as his sword failed to make any meaningful connection while sweeping through the air. The assailant had quickly moved away after retrieving their weapon. They either had sharp battle senses or they must have had some way of sensing in the dark. Regardless, Thorne released his bolt and manifested his warping magic to keep the bolt in flight for as long as possible. Using a mental image of the room and his depth of familiarty with his own weapon and how fast the bolt would travel, he was able to keep up with the bolt for a few warps as he sent it randomly around the room. Trickets of glass shattered and metal on metal clanked before the eventual sound of bolt lodging itself in wooden wall gave the attack some finality.
Despite not having sight and having seemingly missed both his attacks, Thorne could feel the cool breeze of the night blowing into the store from behind him. He could also make out the dim green glow of the orb resting on the floor by Bones's counter. However, a new sound was added to the mix: the crunching of glass. All the commotion up to that point had littered the floor, like a minefield, with small noisemakers. Piecing together what he could to perceive their general location or path of attack, Thorne would be capable a more successful counter attack this time around, assuming he survived their renewed assault.
Launching themselves at Thorne, the assassins executed a cross- shaped attack pattern with both having blades out to scour the thief as they passed by. Both of their attacks connect, perhaps it was Thorne's plan to lure them in, but one left a glancing slice that nearly reached his body through his gear while the other successfully slice through, wounding Thorne's crossbow arm. His use of the arm will be somewhat hampered. (-4 health. Thorne will need some form of magical healing to recover fully from the wound) Unlike last time, Thorne knew exactly where they ran away to. If he feigned ignorance, he may open them up to a devastating attack.
