Unfortunately, Ullar has never had that map. Stephan, who did not accompany you to the Crossed Swords, has the map.
"Perhaps there is a back entrance and are we able to circle around and get them from behind. Surrendering is not an option, no option at all, for I doubt that Golthar would let us live for more than 1 hour; we all heard how he and the Bishop think about us."
"If we end up in a fight, try to pin him and that woman down first; I'll bet they have magickal abilities as well. I'll take care of that big guy and we'll see how this ends up. We'll have to confront them sooner or later. Anyone with better ideas?" Ullar asks.
"If we must fight, let me try to pin that yellow-robed bastard" said Giovani Caboto. "My spells are spent, and the thugs and Hounds are likely better fighters than I. My best chance is to overbear a fellow mage. I would need you others to block the thugs guarding them."
"Ullar, I'm sure the back way is watched", he adds. "If we are to flee, we must do the unexpected. We must go underground, past dead Manus, to wherever the hell mad Arkady is now." Caboto then looked to Tag and Rhees.
"I don't believe him. He will kill us anyway. We have caused him too much harm already to walk away." Pietro stands at the back of the group. "I can use a prayer something like Amibar's Sleep spell on one to four humans. What should I do when I cast it, cast it at Golthar or the lackeys? The more powerful the person, the bigger the change that the prayer will fail though. Got two of those by the way."
Seeing the group hesitate and talk, Golthar gestures toward the rat-faced fellows. Once raises a nasty curved short sword and plunges it into the smaller captive, dropping him to the ground. He lies there bleeding heavily. Golthar yells out, "If you flee, we kill the other one. If you fight, we kill the other one, then kill all of you. You have no hope. Surrender and give us the map and maybe some of you will walk out of here. You have ten seconds to decide." Gesturing again, one of the rat-faced men raises up another wicked blade, pointing it towards Rhune.
Forte looks in shock at Amibar.
"Anybody have any other ideas? I will cast the prayer at the persons holding Rhune and Amibar, might give them an opportunity to flee, so that we will be able to have a bit of a more even fight." Pietro looks around for a moment. "Where is Arkady?"
"Cast the damn spell!" Forts whispers angrily at Pietro.
Plebius too takes the cue and casts his sleep spell toward the mob.
"Plebius, take out the mob surrounding Rhune and Amibar, so they can't be hurt, I will try to take out the wizard and the woman with my prayer."
Plebius replies," That is my intent, as the sleep would likely not work on the other two."
Pietro moves towards a window, so that he can see the group outside. He gets a small piece of iron in his hands, softly saying the words of the incantation. The words are mostly unintelligible, the only thing which you can understand is: "Hermes, please grant your humble servant this prayer." There is a moment of concentration, as the prayer takes effect. His eyes shine for a moment, checking Golthar and the woman if his prayer has any result.
A moment too late, the yellow-robe and the woman see what Pietro is doing. Hermes is definitely on his side today, as both immediately stop moving, though the hatred in Golthar's eyes is still quite visible. Meanwhile, Plebius has cast his own spell at the rat-faced men holding Rhune. His spell is not so effective, dropping only one of the men, the one holding Rhune, who falls to the ground, which seems to jog her to pained consciousness.
Rhune gasps as they let go, sinking to the ground favoring her left arm, groaning in the process.
Pietro moves back as fast as possible from the window, before the wizard can counteract with a spell himself, waiting for a few seconds, before moving back to the window again to prepare another prayer.
As soon the first spell is finished being cast, Forte rushes the wizard, longsword drawn. "Die, you damned asshole!" he screams at the wizard, hoping to see crimson stains all over that annoying yellow robe.
Tag seemed to have been left behind, when Arkady rushed after the troll. He heard the commotion out the front of the inn and turned. Rhune's name seemed to float through the dimness, like some icon of hope in this city of despair. In that moment a vision of remembrance came to him, of Rhune softly cradled in the arms of her Arab lover. Asif's spirit it seemed to Tag reached out to him across the miles, from a flying carpet somewhere above the Mediterranean. 'Save my love Tag! Save her'.
Tag left the front door, just in time to see Forte make a mad rush at the wizard and Pietro chance his spell. He knew that no spell of his would help. The armor he wore was now stained with green ichor, but would prevent any spell casting anyway.
He dropped the lantern as gently as haste would allow, sheathed his rapier and drew the dagger blade in his right hand. Tag muttered a thanks to poor Manus for the skills training as he hurled himself at the battle. Rhune must be saved. The babies life too was at stake and he knew what Asif would have done.
Tag plans to hurl himself at the guard who held Rhune at knife point, hoping that his surprise appearance from the door to the inn would catch him off guard. He tries to grab the knife arm of the man and twist it away from the elf's throat. Grappling as he charges, he tries to thrust the deadly blade in his right hand up into the guard's rib cage.
However, both men find their targets already incapacitated by the spells of their companions. Amazingly, the other three rat-faced men completely vanish! But wait, there on the ground near Rhune are three actual giant rats! Before any of you can do a thing, all three scurry away with amazing speed, disappearing into a sewer grate nearby.
However, some of the opponents are not scared so easily. The two shaven-headed men alongside Golthar and the woman leap in front of them, confronting Taglio and Forte. They are characteristically silent.
As expected, Ullar is not far behind them, aiming for the big guy. "So you want to get your ass kicked. Well, just bend over, you moron!"
In a rage, Ullar lifts his greatsword, trying to incapacitate the big guy by hacking off one of his legs. The fact that they just killed Amibar (that is what Ullar thinks) makes him even more furious.
The large man in the chain mail and the other four bravos seem hesitant, but seeing the fury in the eyes of the approaching warriors, they draw weapons to fight. The larger man engages Ullar while the others spread out against all those rushing toward them.
Caboto cursed. Did Forte not listen? He'd wanted to attack the mage, the only one he felt capable of fighting against with a dagger. Listening as spells were cast, he does what he can not get caught in them. Dagger out, he advances on the Lady, intent to disrupt any spells of hers, if spell-caster she be.
Caboto finds himself engaged by one of the thugs, who see him as a much better target than Ullar or Forte!
Cursing his missing spears, Rhees readies the dagger Ullar gave him for throwing, the one Arkady lent him he keeps for melee. Seeing Plebius and Pietro starting spells and Ullar and Forte charging Golthar and company, he reminds the others, "Let's not forget the stevedores." With combat started Rhees hurls Ullar's dagger at the yellow-robed man, hoping to interrupt a spell. Drawing the other dagger, he turns to the stevedores and utters a quite prayer to the Morrigan, "You'll have your feed of blood today, Battle Crow. Grant that much of it be theirs I spill"
Rhees' throw is a spectacular miss, not even close to anyone with bad intent. Nonetheless, he moves closer to fight with the other. Looking closely at the stevedores, he is quite distressed to see them moving over to help the others, nasty fishhooks in hand.
After he regains some composure at the back door, Arkady realizes that he heard someone coming around the building. Cursing softly for his madness that led him to abandon his friends, he creeps back towards the front of the inn, traveling from room to room, prodding the floor in front of him with the slymar blade to make sure he doesn't fall.
Ullar and the massive warrior engage blows, but both appear as inept as any mage, missing each other completely. Both seem a bit embarrassed by this, but continue on. Ullar's leg-hacking tendency continues as he slams his giant blade into the warriors calf, hobbling him, but the man returns with an even nastier blow, smashing his long sword into Ullar's face. A dodge at the last instant turns the blow from purely lethal to just a smash in the face that sends the man reeling with it's force, robbing him of a chance to return the stroke. Feeling warm wetness pour down his cheek and onto his chest, Ullar knows that his cheekbone is broken.
"Oh.. fuh.. hat hurts. Now I am honna het hou, you hastard!" says Ullar, while an intense pain runs through the left side of this body.
Not wanting to spent anymore time on talking, Ullar tries to position himself in such a way that he can run for Golthar, finishing the wizard with one strike through his heart. However, there is still this pretty fair opponent left. Rendering him immobile is the best Ullar can do to get to Golthar as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, impaired as he is, Ullar is unable to get past the armored warrior, who clearly is trying to protect the mage until he breaks free of the spell. And quite a capable job he does of that. Feinting right draws Ullar to dash for the left in an attempt to slay Golthar. However, the fake was masterful, and with a lunge, Ullar sees nearly two feet of steel shish-ka-bob his stomach. It is a mortal wound, certainly. Ullar realizes that when he sees it, but with his last strength, he raises his greatsword and smashes the bodyguard in the head with it, sending him falling backward. However, the other man rises, while Ullar falls, blood pooling below him.
Ullar looks in astonishment to his stomach. He thinks to himself: "Well.. this is it.. this is the way I'm going to die!"
Without speaking a single word, Ullar falls on his knees and continuous to fall; landing on his face, blood pouring out of the mortally wounded warrior. Forte's greatsword lays next to him, Ullar desperately tries to hold on to it before fading in eternal blackness.
Seeing Forte as the predominant threat coming at them, two of the thugs help the shaven-headed man with him, their blows crashing off of his chain mail without causing him harm. However, his blow is also ineffective, as he still has some difficulty with the smaller long sword he wields. Seeing Ullar's effectiveness, Forte begins to desire his own weapon returned to him. The shaven headed fellow nicks Forte in the leg, but Forte realizes that he doesn't heal as easily as the green monster. He knows he doesn't have much fight left in him. Indeed, even now, rage carries him on. He doesn't have much strength, though, and a normally mortal wound to the silent opponent's left leg merely results in a slight blooding instead.
"Kill the damn wizard and his bitch!" screams Forte, lunging once again at his mildly scratched opponent.
And a lucky strike it is. The point of the blade smashes into the face of the man and well into his head. He falls dully to the ground, leaving blood and other things on the blade of Forte's sword.
Taglio quickly bloods his quiet enemy with a quick thrust to the leg, dancing away to avoid any return harm. He indeed seems to have improved his sword-play quite a bit, which makes him think of butchered Manus in the cellar. This distracts him enough that he doesn't dodge a furious blow aimed at his head. The man's short sword skates off of his forehead, causing blood to flow quickly and furiously into his eyes, skewing his vision. Trying his best to defend himself, Taglio slashes out with his dagger, hitting the fellow in the other leg. Still silent, the man looks quite anguished, and seems to be unable to dodge any more with two injured legs.
Tag tries to take advantage of the fellows hesitation and presses his attack. Blood drips down to his mouth, which is set in a grimace of confident concentration. The salty, metallic taste of his own burgundy body fluid, a lesson more potent than the ones Manus gave. The man's clumsy wide bladed thrusting weapon is no match for Taglio's finesse. He uses the dagger as Manus has taught him, turning the enemies thrusted sword on the blade and down onto the wide dagger guard. Then riposte, the counter thrust to the neck or chest. All the time keeping his feet well balanced and watching the enemies face for his reactions.
And Manus' training proves useful, as with a quick thrust, Taglio skewers his opponent through the stomach. He falls neatly alongside Forte's, two grisly shaven-headed messes.
One dastardly fellow stoops toward injured Rhune, trying to pick her up with his short sword at her throat, apparently as a hostage of sorts.
Seeing the man stoop toward her, Rhune tries to roll out of the way but only cries out in pain as she hits her left arm, tears streaming down her face.
"Your wizard is felled, fool, drop your weapons or flee with your friends, like the sewer rat that you are!" Tag says, hoping to intimidate the man into making an error.
As soon as Tag sees another try to assault the helpless Rhune, he once again puts himself willingly in danger to keep the steel from her throat. "Any of you touching that woman will feel my blade!" he boasts.
Vaguely hearing Tag's voice, Rhune continues to move recognizing it.
And well-said it was, as the fellow looks at the bloody rapier Taglio holds and drops his own sword, dashing away.
Rhees and Caboto manage to stay alive, fighting with daggers, but only just. Caboto misses badly enough that he falls to the ground and somehow or other stabs the man in the foot, causing him to howl loudly. Both escape injury.
Strange thoughts flash through Caboto's mind. Oh to be on a ship, or building a flying machine, or even in a magical duel. Instead, focused, he thanks the Virgin that the thug hadn't hurt hit him yet. Slipping, winded and on the ground he somehow manages not to die and blindly lashes out with his small blade. The thug's loud cry surprises Giovani as much as anyone, and he scrabbles and rolls in the dirt of the street. Terrified that retreat would expose his back, the Florentine crouches in a defensive position, ready to attack and defend.
Caboto's luck does not hold, though, as he tries to rise up from this prone position. He slips on the blood of the dead men and falls on his face, the dagger slipping away from him. The man in front of him does not take the opportunity to slay him, though, joining his partners in fleeing the scene.
Hearing Forte's cry and Arkady's approach, Rhees changes tactics. Instead of looking to wound the thug he faces he works to maneuver towards Golthar and the woman - ideally, he will place them between himself and his assailant, but being close enough to strike them himself will be sufficient.
Parrying proves unnecessary, as the fellow takes flight along with the other two who are able to. At that moment, Arkady comes blazing out of the inn, his eyes still full of the fire of a victorious combat. That seems to be enough to put doubts in the minds of the stevedores, even though they would much outnumber the party if they joined. They hesitate for a moment.
Seeing the hesitation, Arkady's mind leaps upon their weakness. His body soon follows, as he charges the stevedores, howling and jabbering.
And that's enough for the men, as they see the manic Russian charging them. They turn and dash away as well, ten running from one! It must be Arkady's day today!
Plebius moves to cast CLW on the closest injured friendly combatant.
Finding Ullar lying there in a pool of his own blood, he dashes to attend him, casting his spell on the downed man even as the large opponent stands and watches.
Knowing that they are outnumbered, Pietro moves outside. As he does this, he sees Arkady rush towards the fight. Suddenly getting an idea, he raises his hands in the air, wildly cackling. "Do you men dance? Join!" This is followed by another mad howl. In the meantime though, he already started another prayer, after which he screams. "Ullar, be ready!"
But the men have dashed off, scared enough already. Two of the men in front of Forte are caught by Pietro's spell, but the main target is not. Interestingly enough, as he sees all his companions depart, he still stands in front of Golthar, hopelessness in his eyes. What is most interesting is that he does not stop Plebius from healing Ullar, who he surely wanted to kill.
"By Achilles Heel!" Pietro sees Ullar fall, and immediately rushes over to the big warrior. "Arkady! Help Forte! Help the rest get the wizards and the guard! My prayer doesn't last forever. " As soon as he reaches Ullar, he unceremoniously puts his hands on Ullar's legs, keeping his eyes on the guard. "Hermes, heal this man, he thought swiftly and fought bravely!" Immediately a few of the wounds on Ullar's body close, though the warrior is still hurt quite badly. After this, the elf looks around to see if there are any beings rushing towards them.
The effects of Pietro's healing are stronger than Plebius' previous spell, and when done they have managed to close the horrific injury inflicted in his abdomen. However, when he rises, he feels the tension and knows exertion would rip the wound open again.
Hearing the sounds of battle nearing an end Rhune struggles to move out if the way....the smelly sack still over her head, her hands still bound behind her, her left arm throbbing in pain. Unsure as to who has won the day tries to make her way to a better spot to hide.
Ullar is roused, but very weak from loss of blood. He will hardly be able to fight. Forte sees that the man who felled him even now stands alone against the party. He knows he will have trouble taking him down.
Ullar barely sits up, not quite aware of what has happened. It feels as if there are anvils tied to his arm so heavy are they. Constantly he dozes off, shaking his head quickly to keep aware of all things happening around him.
"Arkady! Help me with this one!" Forte shouts, pointing at the lone standing opponent with the tip of his longsword. He just might grow to like this weapon if it serves him well in the next few moments.....
Forte's words do pierce the fog of Arkady's brain and he spins about to charge back into the main fray. He moves to strike down the frozen forms of Golthar and the lady first, then turn his attentions on the slayer of Ullar.
To the others, Forte shouts, "Kill the wizard, the lady and the others. Quick! Before they wake up or start moving!"
Caboto needs no further prompting. Rising carefully from the slippery ground he approached the yellow-robe mage from behind, to avoid the warrior guarding them. When he can, he moves to plunge his dagger into the mage's throat.
Rhees mirrors Caboto's actions, approaching the two held figures from the other side, "After all," he thinks to himself, "the body guard can only keep some of us away."
Seeing the bodyguards reluctance to act against Ullar and Pietro (who are both quite vulnerable right now) Rhees decides to see if further bloodshed can be avoided. "The bodyguard may be charmed, Forte - compelled to stand by his masters. Let us offer him a way out." Addressing the warrior, he continues as he approaches the yellow robed man, "You cannot protect them from all directions, bodyguard. Surrender now and none shall be killed here. It is your best chance of saving their lives." Anticipating Forte's reluctance Rhees adds, "Tag, Caboto, get ready to help me bind, gag and blindfold them - they should be unable to affect us even with spells then."
Caboto waits before complying with Rhees excellent suggestion, watching the possibly charmed warrior's response. In the heat of panic and battle, he did not notice the hint of charming that Rhees saw.
Forte starts to yell at Rhees, but then hears him ask Tag and Cabato to incapacitate the villains, so he resumes concentrating fully on the sole opponent in from of him.