An Abrupt Arrival

[Anonymous]

The Black Ram inn stood just on the edge of town, a small establishment with only a few rooms and a modest tap house but it held it's own in the city.  Most of the rooms sat on the top floor, a tavern that boasted honest ale at a reasonable price sat at street level.  A small stable sat adjacent to the inn round the back and a small door led from stable into the inn.  It was not particularly pricey, it featured no particular attractions, in fact, it was the most ordinary looking place that many who did not know it was there often passed it by.

The common folk in town knew of it.  It had reasonable rates for both food and shelter and a nights work in the kitchen would gain anyone too poor to pay for a room a corner near the fire in the tavern after closing.  Those who asked touts in the street for a warm inn to stay at were often referred to the Black Ram and it therefore rarely wanted for patrons.

Gurden Cook owned the Black Ram.  A tall, portly man with a beard that some dwarves would envy, he had an infectious smile that eased the tensions of almost anyone coming in the door.  Anyone foolish enough to start trouble in his bar often found themselves tossed bodily into the street by the establishment's proprietor.  Though good-natured, he was not one to put up with trouble.

Roumer had it that he'd been an adventurer back in the day and had actually wielded the great two-handed axe that hung above the fireplace though such stories were often spoken of and then laughed off as foolishness and never when he could hear.

It was pouring.  Rain that sheeted down upon the world like the second coming of the floods.  It was a storm so violent that it would be talked about for years to come.  Lightening that streaked across the sky and lit up the world as bright as the day in the blink of an eye.  Thunder boomed across mountains and valleys creating rock slides and sending small animals to scurry wherever they could find shelter.  The winds blasted the world, seemingly trying to scour it clean.

The inn was full of road-weary travelers too wet to care where they were, just so long as they got out of the rain, which led to the unusual assortment of individuals in the Black Ram that night.  There was a rich nobleman who kept complaining about the food.  Two young men sat in a corner, black hoods up, hiding their faces, drinking and eating nothing.  There were several regulars, some of which sniggered at the nobleman behind his back.  Merchants, farmers, tradesmen, soldiers and serfs all kept close quarters inside the humble inn.

There was a bard there that agreed to sing for her supper and she had just begun her performance when there was a crash from the back of the building.  The whole place shuddered.  All the patrons stopped moving in their surprise.

The rain came down outside, the loudest noise that anyone could hear.  Moments passed and then the distinct creak and groan of breaking wood before there was another crash.  

Horses began screaming and kicking at their stalls from inside the stable in the back.

Gurden was in no mood for this sort of thing.  He figured it was horse thieves or the wind throwing things at his buildings and grumbled about such things as he headed for the door at the back of the room, the one that led to the stable.

As he stepped out of the warmth of the inn Gurden immediately became aware of three  things.  Firstly, that there was a fear-mad horse bolting straight towards him.  Secondly, that there was a gaping hole in his roof where there hadn't been one before.  Thirdly, that there were glossy black feathers floating through the air.

Gurden flattened himself against the wall, narrowly avoiding being trampled by the terrified beast that was bolting out of the stable.  The other animals there were also afraid, some dangerously so.

The hole in the roof was right above the stall that the horse had come from, it's door having been kicked open by its former occupant.  Slowly, Gurden approached the stall.  He could hear something inside the stall moving, rustling in the straw bedding.

He was not at all prepared for the sight that greeted him.

The rain came down in sheets, pouring in on the woman that lay in the straw.  She was barely clothed, thin strips of dirty rag hung loosely about her body.  Her long black hair covered more of her than her clothes did, and pooled like black water in the straw around her.  She was thin, too thin.  A slave, if the thick iron collar that clung to her neck was any indication.  Despite dozens of cuts and bruises she had beautiful skin.  It had an opalescent quality that was only emphasized by the water sheeting over her.  Her hands were smooth and delicate her fingernails, though dirty, seemed to have been manicured.  But it was more than all of this that made Gurden stop dead in his tracks, for rising gracefully from the back of a woman who appeared to be a collection of contradictions were two huge, black, feathered wings.

The woman, soaked and shaking, lifted her head to look at Gurden with eyes that glistened with rage.  Injured though she was, she still tried to stand.  It was a futile effort as one of her legs appeared to be broken, the bone jutting out raggedly from her skin.  One of her arms had a large gash in it, Gurden could see bone and tendons, and it was plainly obvious that both of her wings had been damaged in the fall.

With her one good arm, the pitiable creature raised her hand defensively, long black claws extending from her fingertips as she poised her hand to strike at Gurden if he came any closer.  A growl poured forth from her throat.  A sound that no earthy creature of such beauty ought to have ever made.

"Easy... easy now..."  Gurden put his hands out and tried to speak soothingly to the woman, using the same tone of voice he'd use for an angry animal.  He hoped she wouldn't take offense.  

"I mean yeh no harm, miss.  I'm sure yeh're just a' scared of me as I am a' you but yeh're bleedin' bad an' y'ain't gonna last long in the rain like tha'."  Gurden took a step forward.

The claws, two inches long at least, twitched slightly.  The woman's eyes were as black as her hair, never leaving Gurden's face.  The growl grew slightly louder as he began his inching progression forward.  She tried to use her good leg to push herself towards the back wall, farther away from him.  Confusion and shock weighed heavy on her senses and she accidentally tried to push with the wrong leg.  Pain, white hot and dagger sharp went shooting up her body.  Darkness took her.

Gurden was almost grateful when the woman lost consciousness.  He wasn't aware that several of the patrons of his inn had filed in behind him to see what all the fuss was about.  He moved quickly forward to catch the fragile woman.  Her skin was like ice, as cold as she was exquisite.

He spoke in calm, even tones, calling over his stable boys, "Johan, git th'lost animal, bring it back.  Eron, go to th'temple, bring an 'ealer, quickly now."

He paid no heed to anything else around him, simply removed his apron, and began tearing it into strips to bandage the worst of the woman's wounds.

People shuffled behind him.  Heads craned and toes strained as people tried to get a glimpse of the woman.  Whispers echoed through the stable.  Some said "angel", while others warned, "demon".

[Anonymous]

There was a hooded figure in the crowd behind Gurden. Enthralled by the same curiousity as to what exactly this being was. Except he had a deeper intutivation in his interest in it deprived from well his profession of sorts for you see he liked to play with dead things. His ears perked at the mention of angels and demons both existed to his knowledge. Atleast, the demons did he had tangled with those spawn, which in return might mean the existence of angels. A glance back at the hole in the stable's roof. When did demon's fall from grace? Merco thought to himself glancing at the behemoth of the man tending to her wounds.

A brief pause as he spied a several droplets of blood laid on the grass. He licked his lips, but restrained himself. A sign of injuries severe to he thought to himself. Peering around a couple on-lookers getting the back-end of the crowd do to him being at the bar when all of this happened managing to catch sight of her leg. It was a very nasty break must of landed on her leg. Catching another pecuilar sight those sufficently damaged  large black-feathery wings. Pushing himself to the front of the crowd to get a closer look. A gash on her right arm it was deep it'll be infected if it was out in the open for any longer.

He could help her she looked half-dead as it was, but if he did help her it'll draw attention to himself. Yet, if he didn't he wouldn't know what she is or why she fell? During all the assessing of her wounds he hadn't noticed she was a rather beautiful specimen at that, then something caught his eye a collar. A slave to somebody what tortures she must of endured, before possibly her escape?

It was strange all these conflicting elements to this one person a mystery he must unravel. Not in his nature to save people, but this couldn't very well speak in the state she was in and he must know to statsify his fixation. He stepped from the crowd kneeling next to Gurden, " I can help fix-up the broken-leg and with the stitches she'll surely need till the healer gets here. Otherwise, she might bleed to death. I wouldn't try moving her she might have broken ribs or internal bleeding." Mecro said as he reached into his coat for a needle, thread and a small vial of disinfectant. "I'm more of a medic."

[Anonymous]

Gurden didn't take his eyes off his charge as the hooded man stepped from the crowd to crouch next to him.  At the mention of the stranger being a medic, however, Gurden turned a critical eyes to appraise the would-be helper.  It was a tense moment, Gurden seemed to size up the younger man with alarming clarity.  Eventually he nodded his assent.

"Aye, a'right.  Truth is I'd be glad o'some 'elp.  I ain't no 'ealer, never was.  Do what you can do for 'er so as we can either move 'er out o' the rain an' upstairs or the 'ealer gets 'ere and fixes 'er up proper."  Gurden's eyes went hard and he raised a finger to the stranger, "Mind you, I'm not so daft as t'not know when yer fiddlin where ya shouldn't be fiddlin.  You keep yer 'ands to  their work and nuthin else."

Moving aside to let the newcomer assist, he turned to the crowd.

"Allright then, back inside the lot of ye!  I've no need for gawkers and yer all letting the warmth out o'my tavern!  Git!  Git!"  He waved his arms and shooed at them like sheep.

With slightly disappointed faces and only mild protests, though none that met with any acquiescence from Gurden, they filed back into the warm glow of the tavern.

As the last of the guests left the stall, Gurden called over to one of his staff to fill everyone's mug with whatever they were drinking on the house, adding that should anyone not be drinking anything that good ale was to be offered, again, on the house.  Gurden didn't like trouble and trouble was exactly what was laying in his stable.

Gurden returned to the ever-wettening stall when his charge still lay, helpless and possibly dying but for the ministrations of this apparent good-Samaritan.  He watched the stranger carefully, remembering back to days when he had friends in similar situations.  He hoped that she fared better than they did.

[Anonymous]

He heard the man's words well he guess there would be no fiddling as long has he was there, a little restraint went a long way. Strange accent the inn owner had on him he was barely able to understand him. Reaching more into cloak he pulled out a small black-bag it carried most of his knives and instruments of torture, which today was going to be used to save a live. All of them rather sterilize he did have the common decent to keep his tools clean at all times unless it was after one of his play-dates. Taking out several bandages and a cotton pad he would need to stop the bleeding in the right arm by applying pressure to it.  He was hoping the woman he had went into a deep sleep for she was about to feel some pain. Lifting a scringe from the bag next to him filled with a mixture of grinded up herbs made to put her to woozy and numb her nerves.  Mecro said applying it into her neck soft spot of her neck, "This'll make sure she doesn't thrash during the procedure and It'll numb the pain. It's a blend of herbs and liquids to relax her nerves. I'm applying it to her neck for immediate effect."

Pressing the disinfectant soaked pad to the wound a bit of blood-squirting out on it he held it there for a few minutes till it stopped. Grabbing the thread he moved it through the needle he was very skilled to say the least. Here was the tough part getting the correct stitching pattern to make sure the wound didn't reopen. It was extremely deep the gash to see bone and the tendons. She looked rather intriguing from the inside if she was a slave, then she was good stock and completely delicious. His hand worked the flesh holding it together as he began to stitch. The odd thing was he the needle seemed to be moving on it's own, but from the angle Mecro was to Gurden he couldn't see that. Yanking the last bit of the thread to close up the wound he lifted a small pair of scissors to cut it.

Now to the broken leg with it had severed through her skin. A great receipe for Leg-Bone soup popped into his head briefly mixed with the thoughts of those legs bucking in motion, but soon they subsided not time for those thoughts. Not when Gurden's watching. Taking out a splinter to hold her leg in place once he popped the bone back into it's proper resting place. Grabbing the bone he lifted it into place with the splinter behind it to keep it stable as he performed the stictching and bandaging. Blood on his hands and the straw around him. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lips laying on the stall ground it was more work keeping somebody alive, then to actually killing them. Who would of thought?

Looking at the blood on his hands staring at it for a moment. The life sustaining nourishment the body needs, then glancing back at her. The liquid she needs to give that flesh it's color and the taste of it. She was still alive he could hear her slow breathing. Crawling back over to her with a deep sigh. " Don't worry I'm just checking her for any broken ribs. She doesn't seem to be showing signs of internal bleeding. I guess her leg broke her fall no pun intended." Mecro said pressing his fingers to her side to check for any broken ribs. "Never worked on anybody with wings. So, I can't help you there, but she should be fine till the healer gets here."

[Anonymous]

(OOC:  Sorry about the delay in posting!!!   :(  )

Gurden frowned slightly, noting the intensity with which the man worked, but didn't interrupt.

As her wounds were stitched closed she moaned softly, her eyebrown knitting slightly but she didn't wake, though her breathing evened out afterwards and she seemed to sleep a little more peacefully.

"We aught best move 'er upstairs.  There's no spare rooms, but she'll be cozy 'nuff in mine.  I'll sleep downstairs, won't be th' furst time," Gurden said as he moved to help the stranger pick up their senseless charge and move her out of the rain.

As they moved her into the inn and up to the second floor, all activity within the tavern ceased.  Every eye stayed on the two as they carefully maneouvered the winged beauty up the stairs.  Hushed whispers and mutterings greeted their backs as they ascended.

The medic arrived not too long after they got her upstairs.  He was a short, round man with a red face and beady black eyes.  He reminded Gurden of a pig.  He didn't seem at all suprised or put-off by his unusual patient, rather he seemed more concerned with the fact that there was an injured party that needed tending to.

He looked over her wounds, making pleased noises and murmers about excellent stitching before he tended to her wings.

"I've never tended anyone with wings before," the medic mused.  "Oh sure, I've tended to plenty of birds before but... well...  Well they're much smaller, aren't they?"  He chuckled at his little joke.

After setting the bones in the woman's wings and wrapping them tightly to her body the medic stepped away to examine his handywork.

"There we are, nice and snug.  I'll need to come back in a day or so to check on her bandages and change them and whatnot but she should be fine until then.  If she wakes and she's in pain just give her a spoonful of this in some wine and that should help ease it."  The medic handed Gurden a small bag filled with ground herbs.

"I'm assuming that's all you'll be needing then?  I'm sure you wouldn't want magical healing for a slave, even if she is rather pretty.  Pity.  Such a creature really shouldn't be in captivity."  The medic seemed almost sad.  "Where on earth did you get her?"

Gurden was looking at the woman, now fully bandaged she resembles and slightly feathered mummy.  He blinked as he realized that the medic was asking him a question.  "What?  Oh, she's not mine.  Fell through my stable roof.  Fine mess of it she made, too."

The medic nodded, "I see then.  So she doens't belong to either of you then?  Ah...  Well, must be off.  No good to be out longer than I need to on a night like this.  Cheery-bye!"  He waved and was quickly out of the room and out of the inn.

Gurden frowned suspiciously at the medic's retreating back and then turned his attention to the good Samaritan that helped him get her up to the room.  "Thank you.  I don't see as 'ow I couldn't got 'er up 'ere on my own.  I'm grateful an' you seem to 'ave done a fine job in 'elping to fix 'er up.  You've earned yerself a drink."

[Anonymous]

Ziel knew only blackness.  It was, she hoped, the quiet blackness of death.  Death was preferable to going BACK THERE.  It was pain and light and suffering BACK THERE.  She wanted none of it.  She only vaguely remembered that she had a body, a physical form.  Thinking about it made white-hot streaks of pain flash through her.  She remembered that sensation and fled from it further into the darkness.

She began to panic when she realized that something in the agony that ripped through her had tethered her and kept her from fleeing.  Panic began to rise as she struggled to break free.  Sensation was returning and with it adrenaline.  She began to feel her fingers and toes, her cuts and bruises, her shattered bones.  Pinpricks of daylight danced on her eyelids as she came crashing back to reality with stunning clarity of the night before and her escape.

Ziel tried to open her eyes.  It was difficult to move, though she didn't seem to be fully restrained.  Pain shot through her head as her eyes met the morning sun.  She groaned and choked, raising an arm to ward of the stabbing brightness.  More pain laced through her arm as she realized it was heavily bandaged.  Much of her was bandanged, her arms, legs, wings, movement was nearly impossible.

In her struggling Ziel managed to topple off the narrow cot she was lying on.  Her whole body screamed in agony as broken bones and lacerations protested her every move.  Her eyes were blurred too much to see by her tears as the scream from her body travelled up her throat and out her mouth.

Patrons in the Black Ram Inn, as well as passers-by on the street outside and families in neighbouring buildings, had their quiet morning shattered by a scream that made dogs howl and hairs raise on the backs of necks.  Those who were religious made signs to ward off evil and animals in stalls grew restless and uneasy.

[Anonymous]

Mecro was watching her the drinks he had shared with the patrons the night and Gurden, before didn't really affect him that much. The tavern owner was growing a tad bit weary of him, yet he was still recevied as a hero or a demon helper to most. He watched her like he had been doing for the past hour a excuse to check up on her go over her injuries and make sure she didn't panic when she woke up. She started to stir, thrashing about the cot she was lying on till s he flipped off of it. Screaming a banshee yell, he stopped briefly to cover his ears coming up on her body he kneeled down to her.

Quickly, his right hand shot out to cover her mouth stopping the sound. He was strong this man,   " Quiet, I'm a doctor it's ok. You listen to me you're alive badly injured, but your alive. I'm going to give you something to relax the pain. That was a nasty fall you just took." Mecro said as he force-feed the formula the Medic gave him something about, that doctor seemed even shifty to him a sense of betrayal about him. "It won't do you no good to escape you'll just reinjure yourself. You should be safe here for atleast a while. I know your a slave from the collar and running from something awful from the look in your eyes."

He walked over to her he picked up her body in his arms holding her close to his chest as he layed her back on the cot gently. Didn't want to harm this engima of a creature not just yet. "Try to speak. I'm mighty curious to what you are doing here? I mean you pretty much alerted the whole city with your arrival. Some say your a angel while other's say you're a demon.I would keep a low-profile if I was you." A gentle smile came across his lips as Mecro pulled the sheets over her walking back to his chair, then he took a seat crossing his legs. "I say you're interesting and maybe a bit lost."

A grin came streaking across his lips in accomplishment. "I patched most of you up. I couldn't help with the wings another doctor did them. Awfully, pig-faced that one I don't really trust him bad-jokes and strange looks when he saw the collar. I'll be in town for quite a while so I'll watch over you." Mecro said with sincerity in his voice drumming his fingers on his leg. "Anything you like to eat?"

[Anonymous]

Ziel struggle fiercely against the man that tried to silence her.  Despite her weakness and injuries, it was evident that she was much stronger than she looked, though, in stark contrast, she appeared to weigh very little, no more than 75 pounds despite her being over 5 feet tall.  Perhaps, if she'd been fully healed, she may have had enough strength to match the stranger whose hand covered her mouth.

Her eyes were wide with fear, almost more animal than human.  It was clear now, in the morning light that her eyes were not simply dark, they were black.  There was no distinguishing between pupil and iris, though the whites were clearly visible.

A stabbing pain in her leg made Ziel relax a little and stop struggling enough for the would-be helper to drain a cup of wine mixed with the herbs from the bag that he'd been given by the healer down her throat.  She choked on it, nearly threw-up, but it stubbornly stayed down.  It wasn't long until the herbs in the wine took effect and she visibly relaxed, though unwillingly.  Her eyes went slightly glassy.

To Ziel, the world had been turned upsidedown.  She was confused and frightened and in pain.  She did not know who this strange man was that so gently lifted her up and put her back onto the cot she'd been resting on.  He was tender with her, almost reverent.  She'd never seen a human act like this before.

Speaking was difficult.  Her throat was dry, and slightly raspy from choking on the drug-laced wine.  She seemed hesitant to say anything.

"Where...  Where is this?"  Her voice was very low and melodic.  It was a beautiful sound, like listening to a masterpiece.  "Who are you?  What happened?"

She was suspicious, to say the least and she regarded the man with fear and apprehension.  At the mention of food she seemed to shrink away inwardly, she became more frightened and tried to bolt, though the drugs were severely hampering her ability to go anywhere or do much more than wiggle on the cot.  Getting up was out of the question.

The door to the room was kicked open and a bellowing Gurden stormed inside looking for trouble.  Upon seeing the unexpectedly placid scene he looked at Mecro with a questioning eye.  He shook his head,  "If anything bad actually happens I'm sure you'll call me," and headed back out the door.

Ziel nearly fainted but managed to force herself to stay conscious.  She turned to look at Mecro again, "No.  No food."  She was clearly terrified of the thought of it.

[Anonymous]

She was deceptionally strong for being so small, but she needed to calm down for her own good. A bit of a light-hearted response to the question ofwhere she was a tilt of his head with a smile and his arms acting to introduce the place. He took a type of soothing response to her voice from banshee to siren. A creature of instinct perhaps she screams when frightened, but when at ease she speaks beautifully, "This I believe is Reajh on Earth. You fell through the roof of his this tavern's stable messed yourself up pretty bad discovered by the tavern owner, fixed up by me and the local doctor. As for whom I'm depends on who you ask." He said with a smirk. "You can call me Jack and you are?"

Gurden busted into the room eyes Mecro half-way expected him to come chopping in with a axe. A quick glance to him with a short reply, "I'll keep you posted." Mecro looked back to her hooking a thumb back to the now-closed door. "That's the man who discovered you in his stable. Gurden, his is name he's sort of brutish a good person underneath. Kind of a tough-man with a heart of gold or some nonsense. I think he's weary of me."

He looked to her with those eyes of his catching the small wiggles even drugged she was determined to escape. There was also the strange rejection of food she hadn't eaten anything for about a day and a half. "If your not hungry, that's fine. Your throat is going to be dry from those herbs. Sorry about having to give them to you in such a savage manner, but you was putting up quite a fight with all that movement you might of tore your stitches or rebroken a bone. I'll get you something to drink later water ok?"

Mecro stood up from his chair he raised a brow. "Just for my own curiousity what are you? I've seen all manners of creatures, humanoids, living, dead and any combination of the two nothing quite like you. I know this is difficult for you to understand the concept of trust while waking up in a unfamiliar place seeing faces not known to you and your past experiences." He let out a soft sigh. "Atleast let us help you to make sure your better, then you can make your escape. If you need anything or something doesn't feel right just give a holler don't make it to loud. I think I hear dogs barking below us."

[Anonymous]

Ziel's eyes watched Mecro intently, never leaving his face.  Conflicting emotions played across her face.

"Tavern?  What's a tavern?" It was obvious she was struggling to keep her voice calm and even.  "I'm not sure where Reajh is, I got turned around in the storm."

She jumped and nearly fell off the cot again as Gurden burst in.  Her breathing quickened and the room suddenly filled with the smell of ozone.  Static played along the hairs on Merc's arms.

"Gurden?"  She rolled the name around her tongue like fine wine as the door shut behind him.  Her eyes snapped back to the man across from her.

"Ziel.  My name is Ziel."  The words came out of her mouth as slowly as molasses.  "You don't know what I am?  ...  That makes two of us.  I think...  You want to help me?  Get this thing off of me!"  Her good hand reached up to pull at the iron collar.  She tugged at it feebly before letting her hand fall back onto the cot.  She glanced out the window for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.  Her eyes narrowed at Mecro.  

"Jack?  ...  Why would you give me water?"

[Goldie]

(ooc:  just a little thing that I think needs to be cleared up.....Connlaoth is a place that has strict laws against magic and anyone or thing that looks magical in anyway....thus, considering her decent was seen by practically the whole tavern, at least one of the people would have gone to Connlaoth's military to report it....which means that Ziel's, the inn keepers, and such, all of their lives are pretty much in danger for helping a creature that is most certainly of magical origins....so yes....I'm not sure if either of you were aware of Connlaoth's laws against magic....and that the penalty for having it is death.  Heads up! XD )

ic:

When the creature crashed through the barn, everyone seemed to run towards the stables, eager to see what could possibly have created such a ruccous.  Even that damned noble who couldn't keep his mouth shut dashed from his seat, headless of the expensive fabric that caught on the chair causing a decent sized tear to appear in his sleeves.  Not that he cared at the moment, in fact, he would probably notice it when he returned home and claim that he did not have the vaguest idea how such a run could have appeared on his fine garments.  Of course, that would be the least of his worries.

The fool.  In his excitement, he managed to leave his coin purse sitting beside his food.  It appeared that his interest extended farther than his monetary needs.  Of course, it would be a shame for someone who cared so little for gold to keep his money.  After all, there were plenty of other people who understood and appreciated it's many uses more than one stupid, fat noble.

Without so much as a rustle, a man who had positioned himself in one of the far corners rose from his chair.  He had purposefully positioned himself thus in order to keep his eyes on the entire chamber, watching as people came and left, noting what it was they ordered and how they conducted themselves among friends.  The pint of ale he had purchased sat before him untouched, merely there for a prop in order to keep others from seeing him as anything more than a simple traveler, weathering out the storm at a local tavern.  Already his appearance resembled the normal looks that seemed to be on the features of other men in this village.  It wouldn't do to be discovered...especially not in this town....it would cost more than his reputation if someone noticed him as anything but normal.  He prefered to have his head on his shoulders.

Upon reaching the bar, the coin purse vanished into a pouch at his belt as he swept by, joining the frey of people huddled around the doorway.  Hell, as much as he would prefer to stay in his little corner for the rest of the night, it seemed that he would be drawing unwanted attention.  Everyone else was fighting for a small window between someone's head in order to see exactly what the commotion was really about.

Apparently something had crashed through the rough of the stables....a horse had run loose and now some crazy guy was trying to tether the demon which was completely scared out of his wits.  Something had startled to creature, spooked it more likely than not...and it seemed that this was more than a simple flying boulder....not that that would be at all normal in Connlaoth to begin with.

Damn...what they hell was that?  That certainly wasn't a normal sized hole either...it wasn't as if the rafters just collapsed.

After some time, the creature was carried from the stables into the tavern.  Just one look told even the dumbest person that this was not a normal human.  More than one of the tavern's patrons made a sign against evil to ward off whatever germs or diseases that thing might give them, simply for being in its presence.

"Better it dies..." a woman hissed to what looked to be her husband, "Bad luck, that...an' th' poor fools bringin' it in here!"

"Evil....tha' thing'll bring evil pon us all..."

"He brought it inside!"

"Why'd he treat the damn thing?  Someone ought t'go to the Matron and save us all th' trouble of being considered accomplices!"

One by one, the people drifted out, casting wary eyes around the building as if ghouls or goblins might jump out of the tables.  A superstitious lot....goverened by the laws of the land and by the rumors of the evils of magic.  If only they knew....but it seemed as if they would be governed by their fears and by the few magic users who would use their powers to destroy and cause utter mayhem....

Before long, the army would be on this tavern's doorstep, demanding the creature to be handed over for death.  That innkeeper must really be fearless, or just plain stupid.

Ah well....luckily for them they had someone who decided to look out for them...at least for a while.

Without further thought, he walked up the stairs to the rooms and watched where they took the creature before retiring to his own chambers.  It would be a while before she woke, so he had time to situate himself in a manner for a speedy flight, if that was what was needed.  Despite his best attempts, he couldn't force himself to leave when he knew that she would be killed if the government caught her....normally he didn't think about anyone but himself....but.....well....his curiousity was peaked.

Once settled, he positioned himself outside of the door, leaning against the wall beside it, eyes open and alert, ears waiting for the sound of booted soldiers trampling up the stairs towards their magical prey....

[Rhindeer]

[Ahah! Whoa, Gold! You joined in too! XD Yay! Yeah, there was also a post in the Military Academy where a guy was sent to bring in a soldier. Hope this is okay! I promised to bring in a Mordecai! ^_~ And remember...Mordecai are considered the stuff of folk legends! Some people might believe in them, but they're secret! XD And I hope this makes sense. I edited a lot because Gold beat me! Haha! XP]

Unfortunately, despite those that thought of the creature as an angel, there were still those that feared that she was a demon, and those voices carried a lot of weight. One of those voices had even made it back to Connlaoth's military academy, and the word had spread up through the ranks. There was an injured demon in an inn located in Reajh, the Black Ram, and something had to be done about it. It didn't sound like a big job--one injured demon, with its magical abilities repressed, would be easy to dispatch. All it would take was a bullet or two.

Not that the demon woul be killed here, though. No, it would only be killed on the spot if a fight broke out and there was no other choice. Right now, it was only a matter of "collecting" it. It would die in the end, of course, but not yet.

Beatrid actually volunteered for the mission. After having been wounded in that last one she was on--her own fault, too, kind of; she'd had to go all noble and defend another Mordecai she absolutely hated--she'd been going somewhat stir crazy as she hadn't been allowed to do too much until her injury was properly healed and she had recovered. Even after her side had scarred up, she hadn't been allowed to do anything because it was "weak scar tissue". Bah!

So of course she had practically leaped at the chance to finally do something.

Beatrid was soaked by the time she got to the Black Ram, her brass and green button up uniform plastered to her body and her brown hair matted, though it was pulled back into a tight braid that reached down to the middle of her back, save for her shorter bangs. Aside from her long hair and feminine face, she could have probably passed for a girly boy if she put on a deeper voice, because her chest was flat--she had taken up the habit of binding it, which was probably also a good thing right now since she was cold, ergh--and she was a bit taller than the average woman.

A pistol rested in the holster at her belt, and a large red doberman strode beside her, obviously well trained because he didn't strain at the leash she held in her right hand. No, no one else had been sent with her, since it seemed a simple mission and there was no need to draw a lot of unneeded attention, but she'd been ordered to take a dog with her just in case. Not just any random dog, of course; this one was one she'd been working with for a while, though a group of other soldiers had done the training.

So, it was okay. She didn't mind bringing Red with her, because she rather liked dogs and animals were intuned to magic. While her abilities canceled out the magical abilities of those in her range, she couldn't sense it. That was where the dogs came in, they had been trained for this purpose, and aside from that, they were a good source of protection.

She really wished Hek could have come with her. The guy was so inexperienced...this would do him some good, be good for him to see. He needed to be broken in eventually, and as his friend, she preferred to be the one to do it. Oh well.

Blue eyes scanned the signs that hung over each establishment as she walked, her free gloved hand shielding her eyes from the downpour, and finally she spotted it as she rounded a corner. Which wasn't a hard thing to do, because people were pouring out of the place, clearly distressed. Great. So it probably really was a demon...and there was a good chance it wasn't as weak as had been estimated if everyone was reacting like that. Then again, she'd just been desensitized and nothing phased her much anymore, so the thing could have been completely crippled and the masses would probably freak out. Alright, then, time to get this over and done with. Weak or not, there was no time now to go back and ask for back-up, and besides, it had been a long time since she'd had a good fight.

And there was still the chance that it was just some weird creature that everyone was blowing out of proportion. That had happened before. Yeesh.

"C'mon, Red," she ordered, yanking the dog's chain before jogging off across the street, shouldering past people and pushing inside, Red following. No sooner had they entered the building than the dog began to act up, strong body stiffening, ears perked forward and alert, and nose working overtime. His lip began to curl, and a low growl rumbled in his throat, and he began to press forward toward the staircase, licking his lips. That did it. There was no misunderstanding here. The dog had felt magic.

It was the nail in the coffin.

Beatrid wasted no time. She unchained the dog and let him bound up the stairs ahead of her as she also followed, taking the stairs two at a time, drawing her pistol from its holster. The dog wouldn't attack unless ordered or endangered, but he would lead the way and point her to the correct door, since she assumed there were rooms above.

She had nearly reached the top of the staircase when she caught sight of the man at the top, and she also wasted no time in aiming that pistol at him, coming to an abrupt halt a few stairs down from him. The dog, on the other hand, had ignored him completely, lunged past him, and was instead snarling at the door. It didn't matter. The dog was trained to ignore civilians unless the command was given, but it was her duty to be wary. Beatrid's eyes momentarily moved to the door and then back to the guy standing there suspiciously, and her eyes narrowed.

"You best get downstairs and out of this tavern, sir," she began levelly and bluntly, just wanting to get to the point. "Or someone might think you're involved with the creature behind that door. You're not, are you?"

[Anonymous]

(( OOC: I'm still here by the way. ))

His ears perked he was very keen to the sounds around here and this place was a bit on the kill it side when it came to magical creatures. Mecro would know since well his existence was due to magical inhertiance. There goes trying to keep his existence a sercet here. Another reason why he decided to help Ziel he didn't exactly want her dieing till he got some questions answered. He held a finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he got up from his chair moving quietly to a dresser in the room.

Putting his arms to the side of the dresser he pushed it with all his strength and quite quickly behind the door to the room where Ziel and himself hide to prevent a quick entry into the room. He  let out a deep sigh as he walked back over to her, "You know you need to work on your landings.There seems to be some rather brothersome company bout to be knocking at that door and I don't want to let them in. That's a problem for me and you." He said in arduous manner as if his hard-work to patch her back up was for not and the note of disdain at the notion he too might be taken into custody. "Very inconvienant."

Walking over to a oil-lantern used to light her stay at night. He swung it at the dresser the glass-shattered and the oil stringed itself over the surface soaking into the wood of the furniture and door adjacent to it.  It wasn't very often he added arson into his list of deviant-malicious crimes. It would do to delay this interruptation while he orchested a escape for him and his patient. Glancing at the window by her bed there was a escape route it wasnt to much of a fall, then back to her. She was still in deplorable even bedraggled condition, but if he left her here his inquiries would go unsolved and his investgative urges to know what she was would go unstasfied. Besides, there was a chance she might not survive the fire he was soon to start. Mecro said with a smile,  "This should serve as a distraction. I liked this establishment too easy to avoid suspicious sorry Gurden."

His voice low and serious as he pulled two pieces of flint from his person. "I'm going to put you over my shoulder, break that window, scale down the adjacent wall and run." He skimmed the two pieces of rock against each other a spark flying into the air. It landed on the oil the familar heat and color of fire crackled as it consumed the dresser and part of the door.  Stepping from the blaze he moved to the window his boot raised into the air smashing the frame of it, then back again to knock out the glass it falling to the streets below. Turning his attention back to Ziel lifting her up carefully not to reinjure her, but not slowly either Mecro said, "Take a deep breathe your going to need it for the fall."

He turned to the window her over his left shoulder grasping onto her mid-section. Taking a couple steps back to get a running start for the jump. What would appear to be dark veins would appear on his right hand in realty it was thread corrisioning it's way through Mecro's body to due his bidding. Several lines of it would push through out of his finger-tips crimson would drip to the ground a horribe stench followed his tainted blood, weaving, tightening, and interlocking itself into several spear heads just above the nail of his fingers. His legs moved hitting the floor the fire behind him licking at the heel of his boots a moment of coil as he pressed off the window's ledge. The feeling of uncertainty and gravity started to sink in the wall was in reaching distance. A grin spread across his lips so this is what it's like to be daring he thought? He drove his right hand into the wall the spears made of thread did penetrate, but not right away he kind of slide knocking his ring and middle fingers back the thread ripping through the skin and contorting the bone back in a nasty break. The expression his face was a look of enthralled exictment and exctasy relishing the pain.

His grip didn't last long with only three fingers and her on his shoulder. He fell from the wall luckily they wasn't to far from the floor landing on his feet his knees bent kind of stiff landing. Rising from his crouched position he looked at his mangled right hand the thread untieing itself from his shape it had a new job. It wrapped itself around the broken fingers along with the torn flesh darting them foward realigning them with his hand working with extreme precsion. It reassesed the skin covering the tear, then the thread went underneath the finger the tip sharp cutting through and pulling it together once more.  What was unrecongizable was normal again. Still, he couldn't use them without the bones being healed he would need a snack for that. A glance to the direction of stable it was his next stop couldn't get very far on foot.

[Anonymous]

Ziel's world was, once again, being turned upsidedown.  It was hard for her to understand anything that Mecro was talking about through her drug-induced haze.  Something about trouble and escaping.  Escaping from what, she wondered.

"Jack, wait... please... I..."  She tugged desperately at the collar again but her voice was so weak she didn't think he could hear her.  Before she knew it he had her over his shoulder and was descending down the side of the building to the ground.  She could smell blood on his hands, though the smell was strange.  She couldn't put her finger on why.

As Mecro readjusted her on his shoulder she felt stitches tear.  She cried out involuntarilly, biting down on her good hand to silence herself.  Tears welled up as the pain shook her.  She gasped air, hoping no one had heard her.

"Jack.  Wait.  I... I can help."  She nearly threw up as the knowledge of what she was about to VOLUNTARILLY do hit her.  

"Jack.  Give me some of your blood.  I won't need much, just a little.  A couple of mouthfulls at most.  I'll be able to heal much faster.  And get this damn collar off me!"  Her teeth clenched as she hissed the last sentence out in a whisper.

"I can't fight anything with it on!  Please, or we're both finished!"  She was desperate.  She'd heard the woman outside, as well as the man sitting against the door, indentifying both of them by their smell.  She was not looking to get herself killed and while she didn't really trust her 'rescuer' she wasn't sure that she had any other choice at the moment.

[Goldie]

He didn't know how long he waited, but eventually his lids started to droop, sending him into a haze like sleep that was neither fully awake, nor fully in the world of unconsciousness.  It was more or less a type of meditation that allowed him to rest but still understand and recognize everything that was going on around him.  His ears were still open to any type of outside noise, something that might shake him enough to sound the alarm to his senses.  Currently there was nothing to worry about.

Currently.

Of course, this was Connlaoth, the place where magic users were put to death merely because of their heritage.  It was sick really, but hey, who was he to judge?  Let the government enjoy their genocide, eventually it would come and kick them in the butt.  After all, not all magic users were comfortable with hiding who they truly are...and some aren't nearly as nice as the others.

Heh....lucky for the kingdom there wasn't anyone too thrilled with taking it down.  At least, all attempts had been quickly silenced.  That was the oddest thing of all.  There were rumors about some sort of protection against the city...something that focused in on magic and drained it out of people.  Given, these were just stories, but all tales had some basis in fact.  After all, it had to start somewhere!  Someone somewhere had to have experienced their magic becoming useless...

His eyes jerked open before he had even heard the dog scuttering about below.  Something was going on....he felt as if his limbs were tingling, and as he looked down at his fingertips, he noticed the slight changes that were occuring....

Luckily for him, he didn't believe in that type of nonsense.  He had been in the village for over a week and never once had he felt something go awry.  He wasn't a dunce either, and he wouldn't believe some old wives tale about some magic sucking machine.  That was just silly....

But...what was this feeling?  And why couldn't he maintain his image of the perfect Connlaothian citizen?  His brown hair was fading to its natural red gold, returning to it's original length that hit just below his shoulder blades.  He could feel his facial structure shifting, and didn't need to be told that his dull, unobtrusive brown eyes, had faded back to grey.

"What the hell?" he muttered to himself, turning his hand over again just to make sure it really had changed back....

Focus...he just had to focus....focus on his image and his features would meld to it.  It was easy, he had been able to do this for ages....but now....it seemed as if his skills were alluding him....he couldn't even change his eye color now....he couldn't alter his voice, his height, his stance....what was going on?

Shit.

He had been so busy with his own problems he completely missed the soldier coming up the stairs.  Now not only was he a sore thumb, but he had to think quickly.  He couldn't knock on the door now and warn them that their time was up.  He just hoped that the winged creature was smart enough to realize she had to run, and fast.

"What?" he asked in dismay.  His composure was shot after the shock of losing his abilities....

"Oh..oh...no, no no!" he cried, backing away from the door, holding his hands out in front of him in a gesture he hoped she would take as being innocent of all crimes.  "I just....I saw him bring it in....that....that thing....I thought he might help it run....so I waited by the door for you to come.....I....I didn't want that thing to get away...."  Hopefully it sounded convincing, he made no pretense that she did not startle him and his manner truly was that of someone shaken over something....just not entirely what she would think.

He blinked once as a new smell entered his nostrels....pungent....like ash and...well....

"Shit!" he exclaimed, realizing that the room where the creature was had begun to burn.  Well, it seemed as if she wasn't so stupid after all....that is, if she really had a plan that didn't involve being burned to death.  The inn would burn in the matter of minutes if it wasn't contained!  Not to mention she was a little bit on the disabled side....

Without thinking, he dashed to the door and gripped the latch, cursing as he pulled his hand away just as quickly, blisters forming on his palm from the hot metal

"Damnit!" he cried again, looking down at his burned hand.  Well, what did he expect?  That had been utterly stupid.

"I hope you have a magic way to open that door without killing yourself." he told the soldier, stepping back to allow a professional do her work.  His mouth was set in a grim line as he ripped off a piece of linen from his tunic and wrapped it around his hand.  That would sting like crazy later on.  Blisters on the hands...and his right hand no less.  He would be pretty useless in a fight right now, unless he'd be able to ignore the pain and work through it.

It was about time he learned to joust left handed...

[Rhindeer]

If it were any other time, Beatrid might have laughed at the poor guy's reaction. Ah...call her evil, but she lived for moments like these! Unfortunately, now wasn't the time to laugh, but to be a bit relieved on the other hand. He was just some guy that was too curious for his own good.

That was one less thing to worry about, to be sure--it was never pleasant to have to arrest civilians for getting involved in things they just shouldn't meddle in.

"Alright, alright, calm down. Sorry, it's just procedure, but you did well. Now, you should leave," Beatrid said levelly, lowering her pistol and bounding swiftly up the remaining stairs. Yeah, he was convincing all right; she had no reason to believe otherwise, because it was a pretty innocent story, and she'd come across similar situations many times before. Sometimes, the people just wanted to be helpful--which could be both a good thing and a bad thing. It was always a good thing so long as they didn't get in the way or endanger themselves or others with foolishness. Which, sadly, was more often than not.

There was always the chance that he was lying, of course, but if he was she'd find out soon enough--and be ready to take him down if needed. She wasn't stupid, and she had learned to never lower her guard. She wasn't worried about him being a mage, since Red ignored him completely, but there were mage sympathizers out there.

But no sooner had she reached the top of the stairs when the man suddenly cursed and dashed to the door, gripping the handle before pulling back as though burned. Which, as Beatrid would soon learn, was exactly the case. The smell of burning wood and paint began to fill her nostrils then--and suddenly it clicked, and she also gave a curse and bolted to the door. Red, the doberman, was going ballistic at this point, barking and whining loudly while scratching at the door, marking up the wood with his claws. Fuck, fuck, fuck...things were quickly escalating. And she'd been told this would be a simple mission!

With a quick word, she ordered the dog back from the door and was about to order the man away, too--and probably using the same command--but he used his head and stood back. Good. At least he could use his head for something.

The look Beatrid gave the man at the mention of magic was incredibly dry and flat, but she decided to just shake it off for the most part, focusing instead on getting that door open. "Ha ha, funny. Nah, I like to call it 'using common sense'."

Even as she spoke she was backing up, putting some distance between herself and the door and, as a precaution, tucking her braid down the back of her uniform. Wasn't that one of the first things you learned as a child, to never touch doorknobs when a fire was involved? No matter, maybe she'd just been taught better, coming from a military family and all. Taking a deep breath, she aimed a hard kick at the door with one booted foot, just above the doorknob where the locking mechanism was, but it took two good kicks before the thing finally came down, a rush of hot air and ash and smoke pouring out into the hall, stinging her skin and eyes and making her cough.

The room was an inferno at that point. Flames seemed to engulf the room, filling it to the brim, and from the looks of it Beatrid could easily assume that if anyone was still in there, they'd easily be dead, consumed by flames or suffocated by smoke. Either that demon was dead, or it and whoever else had helped it had escaped and was using the fire just as a distraction. Whatever the case was, they weren't in there, and if that fire went unchecked, the whole inn would be coming down in no time once it spread.

"Fuck!" Beatrid turned on her heel, called Red, and raced back down the stairs, calling out behind her to the man, not even looking at him. "You! Make yourself useful and find someone to put out the damned fire!" she ordered even as she threw open the door and exited hastily. Augh! She knew things could never be as simple as just...fighting and apprehending someone. Oh no. There was always some crazy complication. And in this case? Yeah, it definitely looked like she'd need back up, as much as she hated to admit it. Too bad she had no time to get it, though hopefully once news of the fire spread, backup would be sent.

[Sorry if this bites! I'm sick. ;__;]

[Anonymous]

He moved kind of hampered by Ziel and he aparrently must of sprained his ankle..  A glance over his shoulder at her with a raised brow. The blood trail would give away there location he needed to cover his tracks. He looked down to the puddle of his blood he was standing in he reached down untied his boots, then carefully hopped out of them grabbing them in his right arm.

He looked down to the puddle of blood it begain to glow slightly a small bit of it sereprating from the pool and sinked itself into the ground.  Shortly, afterwards a golem about his sized arose it was made of the materials of the street and run off of Mecro's life-sustaining blood. "Rip out your side and go running that way make a lot of noise and go cause mayhem." He pointed the opposite direction of the city to make it seem like they was trying a escape on foot. The creature plunged it's hand into his side ripping a chunk from his body blood splattering onto the streets as it ran in the direction Mecro said. "Good boy."

She had regenerative healing powers by drinking blood in their anatomy his healing process was the same except he had to consume flesh. Vampiric tendencies this one did have she couldn't heal from his blood it would surely kill her.  "You can't drink my blood it's posion to anything with a digestive system. One mouth full will mean death in a very-strenous manner.  I hope you can heal off animal blood cause were going to the stable or you might find a stable boy." Mecro said with a inquistive tone to his voice. "Anything else you would like to inform me of?"

He turned around limping back to the stable. It wasn't hard to do, since everybody was evacating the tavern. Managing to avoid most of the crowds he sure knew how to be sneaky stalking was sort of a hobby of his. The stable itself was chaotic the horses was escaping and the stable boys had to subdue them. One of the beasts raised it's hooves at one of them knocking him unconsicous as it fled out the stable. Blood ran from the man's head, yet he was still breathing. There was about two or three horses left in the stables some of them trapped in locked stalls. Mecro looked to the unconsicious stable boy, "Finally, something goes right for once. Will he do? I can wait to eat."

[Anonymous]

Ziel continued to struggle as Mecros took his time to create his minion.  She was a little repulsed by the creature as it ripped out it's own flesh and ran hollering and moaning down the street.  Indeed, this man had much to fear from the supposed army that was coming to track her down.

"Jack, get this damn collar off of me!" She hissed angrily through clenched teeth as Mecros carried her into the stable.  She realized now why his blood smelled strange to her: it was the poison inside.  It registered in her brain as 'not-food'.

Upon seeing the terrified beasts inside she knew exactly what the cause for their concern was.  Right now, the fire would be the furthest thing from their mind, what with her being in such close proximity.  She was hardly surprised when the boy was struck by a rampaging stallion, though she pitied him somewhat.

"Yes, he'll do," She said quietly, trying her best not to sound revolted.

Mecros set Ziel down gently on her good leg.  Between him and the wall she managed to sit herself on the floor without causing herself too much pain and pulled the man's head into her lap.  Leaning down, she shuddered, put her lips to the gash in the man's head, and drank.  She forced herself to swallow, once, twice, three times for good measure.  

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and repressed the instinct to vomit.  She concentrated on her wounds, compelling the bones to knit, the muscles to regrow and bind together in the right way.  She took her good hand and, pulling her bandages away, stroked the gashes in her skin until they sealed shut.  The seams were perfect and she was unscarred.  The whole process had taken less than a minute.

Moving her hands to the man she'd just fed from she concentrated her healing energies on finding and sealing his own wounds.  His head had been knocked badly by the panicked horse and without her assistance he would have probably died.  Bit by bit his wound closed up and his eyes flickered open.  He looked up at her in wonderment and murmured something to her.  She smiled gently and told him that no thanks were necessary, the innkeeper would still need his help to tend to his animals.  The man seemed almost dazed, getting up reflexively and going outside to find the missing horses.

Ziel stood and flexed.  Ropey muscles appeared in her arms and across her stomach and back.  Her wings stretched out to their full length, nearly enough to reach from one end of the stable to the other.  All traces of weariness were gone from her and there was almost a predatory gleam in her eyes as she looked at Mecros.  She grabbed the collar and turned the back of it to the front. it was held around her neck by only a small leather tie.

"Now get this bloody collar off me."

[Goldie]

He nearly kicked himself in the head after her reply to his statement about magic.  It seemed as if he was messing up left and right and everything seemed to be going wrong!  Luckily she decided to shake it off, having much more difficult matters to attend to, like a giant winged woman who had managed to jump out of the window.  However she managed to do that with her extensive injuries, he couldn't even venture to guess.  All he could do at the moment was thank her silently for turning the heat away from himself and his headless comments.

After all, this was Connlaoth!  He should have thought twice about using that common phrase in this place!  Especially to one of the palace soldiers!  But he couldn't really blame himself....after all, he couldn't change his appearance at all and that in itself was enough to strip away all sense of composure, leading to all types of heedless comments.

It was still freaking him out, however.  Even now, he couldn't so much as lighten his hair....he just hoped that it was a spell and that it would pass.  He couldn't imagine what would happen if he could no longer transform his appearance....his entire structure of life would be destroyed!  Steal, change appearance, run, live happily for a while, steal, change appearance, run...the cycle continued.  Some might call it monotonous, but he thoroughly enjoyed himself.  Especially when he turned out to be the one to help the guy he had stollen from find the thief.  Ha!  That one was a kicker every time!

But now....now he was losing his knack!  GYAH!  He'd actually...have to be good, law abiding citizen! Shiiiiiiiiit!

"Huh?  Oh!  Yes ma'am!" he called after her, almost positive that she hadn't heard a word he said before she darted down the stairs.  Phew, at least that trial was over.  Let her do her own work, and he would be able to escape completely unscathed....hah...right.  That stupid creature had caught his interest more than he wanted to admit....and he was so close, he couldn't just chop it off now!  He would die of "what ifs" if he just left her go now!

He darted down the stairs behind her and ran right out of the front door.  There were people standing around the inn, eyes wide with fear mingled curiousity.  Damn bystanders!  Couldn't they see the smoke pouring out of the side of the inn?  Were they so dim witted that they would just stand around and do nothing?

"F...f...fire!" he stuttered, forcing his face into a look of complete and utter panic, "The inn is burning!  Get help!  Anyone!!!"  His shouts were enough to break the bastards out of their trance like state and sent mass chaos throughout the street.  People were running in all directions trying to find some way to help with the fire, while others were just running around like chickens with their necks snapped.  Useless...absolutely useless the lot of them.  Luck enough for him, he had created a much, unwanted distraction for the soldier.  There were so many people milling about in a panic now it would be more than a difficult task to track anyone running away.  Of course, she was a trained professional so it probably would be easier for her than most people, but the conduct of the villagers couldn't be helping.

Without thinking, he called upon his powers again and breathed a sigh of relief when they flooded his mind once more.  Immediately he altered his appearance back to the average Connlaothian citizen and hurried around the inn, opposite of the burning room.  He didn't want to be caught by that soldier again...that might be just a little bit fishy....so he tred more carefully than he normally would, looking for any signs that might point him in the right direction.  With a grim smile, he picked up what looked to be a pair of foot prints.  His trained eyes picked up that both of them seemed to be dragging a bit more than the usual steps.  Ah....this should be them.

Without a sound he started off, following the steps with a keen interest.  It seemed there were two bodies, and it didn't look as if either of them could have gotten far in their current conditions.

And he was right.

He heard them before he saw them, the winged girl complaining about some collar around her neck.  Huh....it seemed like a pretty bad time to be worrying about a piece of enslavement jewelry!  He noticed the fallen stable boy, and repressed a shudder as he saw the blood that littered the ground around the fallen boy.  It looked as if these two had been busy.

"I'd stop worrying about that band." he commented dryly, stepping out into their line of sight, "If I were you I wouldn't stop here to rest.  You've created quite a commotion back in town.  In fact, you might be the biggest news to hit this place in a long time.  Magical winged beast destroys local tavern!  It'll be all over the village!"  it was a lame attempt at a joke, but he said it grimmly enough that it wouldn't have seemed funny anyways.

"Quit stalling, and move!"  he hissed, "Otherwise it'll be your necks on the line!  This place isn't like normal places....something happens to anything magical.....it's like....your magic is sucked out of you.  So don't rely on that to save you.  Rely on the ability to run, and fast."

[Anonymous]

Ziel spun around, nearly knocking both Mecro and the stranger over despite retracting her wings.  They seemed to fold up far smaller than they should have, given their extensive span.

Hissing and growling in her throat, Ziel extended her claws and dropped into a half-crouch.  Her nose twitched slightly, the breeze carrying the scent of the newcomer toward her.  This was the man that had been sitting outside the room she'd been resting in.  She wondered who he was and what his interest in her was unconsciously relaxing a little.

"Backoff stranger!  You know nothing of what you speak!  With this blasted collar on I can't use ANY of my offensive abilities!  I can't take it off myself either."  Her voice had gone from almost a yess to very low and rolled along with the growl that slide along the back of her throat, quiet audibly to his ears.

It was obvious to the stranger now that this was a plain iron collar, fastened to the woman's neck with a simple leather thong.  Any fool that had been enslaved would be able to simply reach up and remove it, but this woman hadn't.

Ziel turned back to Mecros, "How do we get out of this city?"