In White (Open)

OoC: I guess I disregard about half of my last post...

BiC: Tarok ran for his cloak and dagger, donning them with speed that most humans could not match. His plan to get to the woman had been delayed by the breaking of rules, and also almost being oimpaled by spikes. Tarok moved through the crowd, his dagger replaced by a longsword, as he hacked, slashed, and stabbed his way through his enemies.

He finally reached the woman, locking eyes with the leader of the entire group, and a sword in his face. Tarok had the good sense to stay away from the light replicas, as even through the cloak, he could feel the heat on his skin. As this was clearly a battle he would not interfere with, except if it was absolutely necessary, he contented himself by keeping others away from the battle, from both sides.

He went into battle, with another man holding a sword, and Tarok had to strain to see his face, as the height difference was very apparent. The man scoffed, looking down at the child with pure bewilderment, as if he could not be stopped by such a person. He tried to knock the boy aside with the flat of his sword, hoping to aid his leader, when steel on steel rang out, and the impact jarred his arm.

The man looked at the boy, his look of surprise quickly turning to one of anger. "Now, listen here-" He said, but did not get any further in his speech when the boy lunged forward, and the man was hardly able to dodge it, and got a sword prick in the stomach for his troubles. "Now your in for a whoopin', boy."

Tarok smiled, but the smile was cold and never reached his eyes. "Let's see what you can do, then..."He said, and without further warning, threw a lightning fast slash at the mans midsection. He dodged, then the battle commenced

It sure had gotten crowded in there, and Carcaroth noticed the men beating down on him suddenly had other things to worry about as rods of steel seemed to burst out of the ground, intent on killing them. Some were taken out immediately by these, but most were quick enough to dodge out of the way. This was all the distraction Carcaroth needed to get on his feet, see that the guy holding his sword was impaled by one of the steel pipes, and quickly get there in time to reclaim the dropped weapon.

It seemed Calaim's return caused Kerel to suddenly speak up too.

Bloodshed has begun, kid, he said with a sort of hunger in his voice. No reason to hold back now.

Plenty of reason to hold back, still. replied Carcaroth. Still, Kerel was somewhat right - killing was already taking place, so there was no reason for him to play nice.

The inn's lounge had become a battlefield, and all but the combatants had fled the scene. More of the thugs had also entered the fray, and it seemed that a lot of them had been standing outside and were now also joining the party. It was like a small army of thieves and bandits.

This kind of mayhem didn't really confuse Carcaroth any, though. The people he shouldn't kill were all easily distinguishable from the rest. With this in mind, perhaps it was time for Kerel to take over.

The demon complied gladly. Calaim's ability to absorb magical energies in its presence hindered him from using any of his fire magic or empowering the human any further, but he was still able to take control of Carcaroth's body. At the moment, that was all he needed.

The first of them fell easily, as he had had his back turned. It wasn't until Kerel had slain five of them that the bandits became aware of the fact that there was another person in there killing them.

"Come at me, boys!" shouted Kerel at them. "Come and I'll introduce my sword to your flesh!"

Another thing about Calaim was that, in the hands of Kerel, it proved to be an incredibly strong weapon. Not powerful in a magical sense, just the fact that the crimson-colored blade was seemingly strong enough to shatter other weapons as long as the wielder was strong enough to make it happen, which Kerel managed to be even when considering that it was Carcaroth's body. The sword crushed through the defense of the enemy like they were wielding wooden swords instead of ones made of steel. Maybe they were of poor quality.

Kay turned her head when Zolf landed next to her and Whimsy. She hadn't expected him to lose a fight, having won his previous fight. But then again, there was considerable difference between someone whose body and mind were muddled with alcohol and one of these grouped up hoodlums who obviously made a habit of fighting. Maybe the boy needed more training. But as Kay would shortly verify, so did she.

"Oh? You know who I am? That surprises me for some reason. Guess my reputation proceeds me more than I thought it would. There aren't any wanted posters of me, are there?" Kay half joked to Whimsy, but then shrugged, "If you don't mind seeing what's going on... then..."

The wall of red that was the source of the iron poles moved out of Whimsy's way to inspect the damage that had been done. More than half? Guess my aim is getting better, Kay thought to herself as she saw seven of the men impaled. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted when Whimsy ran to Zolf's side, obviously far more concerned than Kay had been.

"Hm? Is he your brother or something?" she asked Whimsy, though made no movement to pull Whimsy away from Zolf as she expected. If anything, Kay was perfectly happy to have them huddled up there together.

Ugh. Five to go. Not much I can do about it now, Kay smirked and shrugged again, then rolled her shoulders a little. They were sore and aching. The cost of her surprise attack on the men had been the steam that had risen off her back, and it left her too hot, like sitting under a flow of water that threatened to scald you. She could do no more ironwork in this state. If only I could get outside, she thought, looking out the window to the inviting blizzard.

But her attention turned back to Zolf and Whimsy. She couldn't just leave them defenseless. So she gave in and got close to them, just in case any of the attackers had any stupid thoughts of attacking the defenseless. Luckily those who weren't defenseless seemed to be more than enough to keep the men busy. Fate had one's attention. The new black cloaked boy, Tarok, was dealing with another one. Carcaroth, who, not to Kay's knowledge, had become Kerel, had taken out five of them.

Wait. That doesn't add up. Where are they coming from? Kay's lips turned into a grimace as she noticed that more of these people that Kay had declared evil were flooding into the inn. It was only until then that Kay had caught on to another detail that she had missed when first skimming over the fight. Fate was some sort of light magic user. And the man she was fighting was some sort of dark magic user? Were all these thieves and bandits dark magic users? Kay didn't want to wait to find out or get attacked.

"Time to go," she quickly said as she turned back to look to Zolf and Whimsy, "Hold on to Mister Cuddles nice and tight now," she added. Kay then went to try to pick up both Zolf and Whimsy, trying to carry them both, one on each of her shoulders and held in each arm, to try to rush them upstairs.

If she was successful in picking them up, she would cringe from the weights of their bodies touching down on the throbbing skin of her back, but it wouldn't slow her down any. If Zolf had woken up and fought against her, or Whimsy protested against being carried, well that was up to them and Kay would take no action to go against their choices to be left behind. Either way, Kay was determined to bound up the stairs and get back into the room she had paid money for.

"Whimsy sees wanted posters in your head. Whimsy knows all!" She giggled to Kay. "Whimsy know all about Miss Kay!" Whimsy climbed up onto the chair, and put a finger to her lips (distracted from the fallen teenager for the time being), leaning in close to Kay. "Whimsy can keep your secret safe, Miss Kay. Whimsy has no brothers, no sisters, no mum or da, only Mister Gentleman Cuddles." Putting her hands on the arm of the chair, bent over slightly, Mister Cuddles in tow, surveying the room.

The damage was rather harsh, from what Whimsy could see. A good seven men were impaled with metal stakes; and five were laying in haphazard heaps on the floor, out like lights. Blood spattered in places cleaning ladies would not appreciate, things were being broken and there was almost nothing in the lounge left on its feet, with the minor exception of a short table, and Whimsy's chair by the fire.

She wasn't really listening, more focused on the fight, now, but all of a sudden, a strong arm cinched around her middle, and she was hoisted up into the air. Startled, the little girl let out a fittingly little yelp as she was tossed over Kay's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She had dropped her bear in fright.

"Mister Cuddles!" She reached over Miss Kay's shoulder towards the ground, eyes wide. "My dear Mister Cuddles!" With this, she began to cry, and struggle to reach him.

Zolf was gradually becoming aware of his surroundings again. His whole body felt stiff and battered, and his head throbbed dully. Something hot and sticky trickled down the back of his neck.
He was being lifted up. Not roughly like one of the thugs would, though - more like someone trying to help him. He didn't need help. He could look after himself!

Blearily, he opened his eyes a crack. The red cloaked woman was lifting both him and the little girl up onto her shoulders and heading towards the stairs. He remained limp for a moment, trying to make sense of his surroundings, then heaved himself over, rolling off the woman's shoulder and onto the floor. He got up slowly onto his hands and knees, and waited for the pounding in his head to subside. The fighting had turned from a brawl to a massacre - the rule about no weapons had been abandoned, and several corpses stood with a metal spike run right through them. There was more blood on the floor with every moment that passed.

He had to move. Where was his knife? He had seen it over by the bar, held by one of the strange people. He pushed himself up onto his feet and staggered in that direction. Just about all of the group were now involved in the fighting, and only one remained by the bar, Zolf's knife in his hand. Zolf stumbled up behind him and pushed, catching the man by surprise. The man let go of the knife as he fell, holding both arms out in front to catch himself instead.

Zolf lunged after the knife as it fell, catching it just before it hit the ground. He turned around, knife in hand, to face the man who was still face-down on the ground. He lurched towards him and drove the blade into his back. He knelt for a few moments, trying to get his breath back.

He stood, using the bar to support himself, and looked around. Now would probably be a good time to retreat - he couldn't do any more here. But what about the man who had knocked him out? He hadn't seen him, but he had to still be here somewhere. There was a large group of men swarming the man with the red sword. That might be a good place to start. Swaying slightly, he started towards them.

Fate focused on nothing but the battle, her eyes never wandering from her opponent. Their duplicated swords clashed against each other as if they had individual masters of their own. While Fate mostly focused on keeping herself protected with them, and attacking with her in-hand weapons, her enemy seemed to like taking the offensive in both areas. At the very least, she likely wouldn't wear out as quickly as him, but she was obviously receiving more wounds than him.

The blizzard made it no easier for her, as she could barely see him through all of the snow that piled down around them, and on top of them. She was shivering from the frigid weather, and it certainly wasn't helping her leg any. In these conditions, it required all of the tolerance she could muster in order to keep herself alive through this fight. And it was definitely a terrible fight for her to have picked.

Regardless, she had to turn the tables in her favor.

Fate dashed at her enemy, her leg aching more with every step. As she came closer to her opponent, she let the replica in her hand slip loose, and fly along side her with it's point facing the man, just as the other three had been.

She leaped into the air above him, and slashed her sword downwards at him. Two of the replicas around her defended her from his attacks, while the other two were focused on hitting him. She was easily pushed off of him, and landed a bit behind him. She backed into the light that escaped the inn from the broken window, and almost instantly, she was gripping her sword with both hands, and slashing at... what looked like nothing.

The man found himself dodging and guarding himself against a series of waves of light, each varying in shape depending on the angle that her sword slashed at. Some of them caused cuts on his arms or legs, though he managed to keep the rest of himself protected.

This surprised Fate slightly, she expected him to have a better way of blocking her attacks. But the opportunity couldn't be overlooked. Following the last wave that seemed to emerge out of her sword, she dashed towards the man and delivered a downwards slash along his chest. The cut that was now left across his chest was not too deep, but it was never her intention to try to kill him, at least not yet.

Barely having flinched from the attack, he jumped back and released his dark duplicate. He aimed a glare at Fate, while a dozen more swords appeared around him. The swords flew at her, threatening to pierce her through every side.

Her eyes widened as she watched the swords come at her, and she quickly began putting up a barrier in front of her. Her sword was quickly discarded, and her hands were pushed forward as she mustered together all the light she could, and materialized it into a glowing barrier in front of her. As soon as it was up, she ran back to the inn and pulled herself in through the window.

The swords stabbed into the barrier, half of them disappearing with the impact. The barrier broke apart, and the light it was made of seemed to disappear back into it's rightful place.

Fate felt as if the swords had stabbed into her body. She fell to the floor coughing with her left hand over her stomach, and the other holding her just barely above the ground as she struggled to get herself back up completely.

The man didn't seem to be doing too much better than her, with the cut through his chest bleeding out. He was slowly making his way back into the inn, prepared to wrap up the fight.

Tarok watched the fight between the woman and the leader through the corner of his eye, while occupying himself with the fight. It was easy enough, as the man was drunk and clumsy, but when the woman pulled herself through the window, holding wounds that he couldn't see, he knew it was time to finish up.

The man gave a very clumsy diagonal strike, coming from his right, down. Tarok easily back-stepped it, and before the man could recover, Tarok stepped in, and, with contemptuous ease, ran him through. The stomach. The man dropped like a brick.

Tarok moved to the woman, trying to find her injuries, but soon it was obvious that they were magical, and the only thing he could do was pick her up, and place her lying down on a bench. Since it was possible that he could do it, he assumed that night had fallen. Perfect.

Tarok moved to the door, but before he could do a thing to it, it was thrown open, and the leader of the gang staggered in, the cut in his chest bleeding profusely, and in his eyes, directed at the woman that was lying down. Tarok put his small body between the two of
them, and the man turned his hate towards him.

Not bothering with any small talk, the man moved forward, using his transparent, dark blade, to tried to cut him with it. Tarok side-stepped the attack, and ran forward, put his hands on the man, and rushed his power of immobilization into him. The man went as stiff as a board, and fell flat on his face.

Tarok worked with haste, the beads on his neck quickly using power. He grabbed the pack on his back, and grabbed a coil of rope. He pulleed the man's hands and pulled them behind his back, while also pulling his legs up, and hog tied him, while also using a strip of cloth to stop him from talking. He released the immobility spell then, and turned his attention back to the woman.

"Where does it hurt, ma'am?

When Kerel entered the fray, the battle took a nasty turn. Arms and legs were chopped off the bodies they were attached to like they were twigs on a dead tree. The demon deliberately avoided fatal attacks as he figured that it was about time he got to be a little sadistic. Even though Carcaroth quietly disapproved, he didn't make an effort to stop the onslaught.

Like before the bandits tried to use the tried-and-true tactic of surrounding their enemy, but this time they faced a man wielding a sword with deadly speed and accuracy. It was no trouble for Kerel to counter their attacks and promptly disarm them in such violent ways that made him feel giddy inside.

The enemy's numbers had begun to dwindle. This was natural, of course - Kerel wasn't the only one there, and he had already taken out at least ten of them. The floor was littered with glass, wooden splinters, limbs and of course puddles of blood from those who were bleeding profusely from the stumps where their arms and legs had once been attached.

The enemy leader seemed to be down for the count too. Kerel figured the fun was just about over and gave control back to Carcaroth.

Boring, said the demon with a yawn.

"Mister Cuddles?" Kay asked, looking over her shoulder as Whimsy wiggled around. The little girl wasn't the only one to move in her grasp, though, as the boy jumped free of her before Kay could get them up the stairs. Well that makes things easier, Kay thought, Only need something to keep the girl warm now. She then remembered that blanket that Fate had been wearing. Kay hoped that Fate had dropped it in the fight. That would have made Kay's plans easier.

Turning around, still trying to carry Whimsy with her, Kay ran back to where she had just run from, shooting down to pick up Mister Cuddles and hand him up to Whimsy, though didn't let go of the stuffed bear doll until she was sure that Whimsy had tight hold of him. Looking around the room for the blanket, what caught her attention instead was the owner of said blanket crawling back through the broken window. Unfortunately the ideas on the surface of Kay's mind were immediately how inviting the cold, the snow, the frozen earth outside was. Half a moment later, though, she would be scolding herself for not thinking of helping the woman with the light based powers, and would take half step towards her.

But luckily someone else had the sense of mind to help her. There again was the black cloak that was a good guy, Tarok, who saw to the blue haired woman. Kay then turned her attention back to the window, and saw the dark swordsman coming back towards the inn, only to be intercepted by Tarok as well. Kay made careful note about Tarok's peculiar touches on the man. Magic users were not people Kay wanted to take lightly. She didn't imagine she would get on Tarok's bad side, but no sense in not acknowledging what he could be capable of.

And then as Kay took one last glace around the room Carcaroth had wrapped most everything up. A grin spread across Kay's face and she almost started laughing, until the aching of her shoulder holding Whimsy up finally got too much for her. Going back to the chair Whimsy had been sitting at by the fire, Kay would gently try to put down the girl and her gentleman back down from where she had scooped them up from.

"Looks like they didn't need my help at all," Kay said happily as she motioned to the group behind her with her thumb, "Hahaha, and now you'll be telling me that you didn't need my help, either, won't you?" she said, and went to try to ruffle Whimsy's hair, and then to try to shake Mister Cuddle's paw as if shaking his hand, mostly in hopes of amusing the little girl. But the fire was too hot for Kay right now, so she slowly started to head for the broken window to at least be near the cold.

OoC: Sorry it took me so long to post... I had things I needed to do.
IC:

Preening her odd silver hair back into its place, Whimsy took Mister Cuddles onto her lap, and said, "You didn't need to do that, Miss Kay. Whimsy is warm now. Whimsy was lonely, but now Miss Kay is here and everything is okay again." She smiled at the attempt to shake her gentleman's hand, and was slightly amused to say the least of Miss Kay's odd, awkward behavior around her. Whimsy noticed the battle was over by now, and could see the blue-haired woman lying down with a cloaked man bent over her, as well as the intimidating man who was either possesed by them or was one of them masquerading as a human, she had determined. She'd need to talk to him to find out.

"Whimsy has some things she needs to do," she said to Miss Kay, getting to her feet with Mister Cuddles, despite all the dangerous glass and wood scraps on the floor. She didn't seem to mind all the blood... after all, she had been seeing that since the tender age of three.

Meandering around, she came to Carcaroth, and tugged on his coat, looking up at him with innocent eyes, Mister Cuddles in her hand. "You were very scary there. Whimsy was very scared by you." Simply, in saying that, she was trying to invoke a response... be it "Oh" or any vocalization... she'd get to know if he was one of them.

Zolf made it over to the small mob just in time to be splattered with blood as the last man was cut down by the one with the red sword. The dead thug fell backwards, and he stepped aside to avoid being taken down with him. He'd done enough lying on the floor for one day.

The inn was now almost completely deserted, and in a state that would probably take weeks to clean. He wouldn't like to be the one to do it. He should probably leave now. Looking around, he saw his shirt thrown over the back of a chair, and he shuffled over to reclaim it. Fully clothed once more, he looked for the room key that he had picked up earlier. It must be lying around here somewhere - unless someone else had taken it. Its previous owner was on the floor by the broken window, and he doubted she had managed to recover it during the fight.

It looked like he would have to find an unlocked room he could borrow. Either that or sleep downstairs, now that there was nobody here to throw him out. Either way, he needed to sleep - standing was becoming more of a challenge now that the adrenaline that had kept him going before was gradually leaving his system. He was determined not to lose consciousness again. That would just be embarrassing.

Fate's half open eyes wandered the room after the boy left her on the bench, the blood that dyed most of the floor red made her feel a little more queasy, which on top of the pain that was in just about every part of her body, created quite an undesirable feeling. When she saw the boy confront the weakened leader, she began to push herself up, only to fall back onto the bench when the fight was so quickly wrapped up.

"Where does it hurt, ma'am?

Fate looked up at the boy who was now at her side again, looking over him for any injuries. "I'll be alright soon, thank you." She replied softly, relieved that he didn't appear to have gotten any injuries. He looked quite young, and didn't even belong in such a fight. Granted, not many of the other people there did anyways.

After a few more minutes of resting, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and leaned her back against the wall behind her, her right arm held across her stomach, with her hand holding the cut on her side. Her eyes shot over to the door as it flew open and a few guards marched in to the room. They were shocked at what they saw, and within moments, glaring at the people left alive in the room, save for the little silver haired girl, who they might have not even noticed.

Took long enough. She watched them in suspicion, they seemed to be examining the situation, and deciding which ones they should interrogate, and eventually blame.

Carcaroth had begun looking for the clothes that had been violently taken off of him earlier by the thugs when he felt - barely - something small tugging at his leg. He turned his head, initially seeing no-one there, but then he noticed a small girl carrying a small teddy bear in her hand. She had to be six-seven years old, tops. Her violet eyes gave him a weird vibe.

"You were very scary there," said the girl. "Whimsy was very scared by you."

It took a few seconds before Carcaroth realized what she was talking about. He blinked a few times as he tried to think of a response.

"Uh... I see," he said slowly. "... I'm sorry for, uh, scaring... Whimsy."

He wasn't sure if the girl had referred to herself as Whimsy or if there was someone else called Whimsy that she was speaking on behalf of, but he didn't have any more time before he felt a sudden pressure from within - Kerel.

What do you think you're - , started Carcaroth angrily, but the demon had picked a most inconvenient time to seize control. Carcaroth didn't stand a chance.

"What do you want, brat?" sneered Kerel at the little girl. "Do you think I care whether someone pissed their pants because they can't handle some good old-fashioned bloodshed? I probably saved your life."

He had no more time to intimidate the poor little child as guards finally seemed to have arrived on the scene, and naturally the sight of a bloodied, shirtless man with a red sword in his hand intimidating a little child had to be a bit off-setting. It didn't take long before he was surrounded.

"Let the girl go and put down your weapon," said one of them firmly, though with caution. Kerel glanced at them, but made no motion to drop the sword.

"She's free to go on her own. She was the one who came to bug me in the first place."

"Drop the sword!"

One of them moved to disarm him, which Kerel certainly didn't appreciate. In one swift move the demon had knocked the guard over.

"Do not touch my sword," he growled at the other guards. "I was kind enough to eliminate the idiot thugs for you. Don't make me give the same treatment to you too. And don't make the mistake of thinking that I won't do it."

Listening to the man's outburst, Tarok fingered his belt that held all of his Kunai knives. Deciding against throwing it at the man, he brought his hand back towards the woman to check her injuries.He could sense dark magic inside her, and put his hand on hers, and started to siphon it, releasing the energy into the air. The lights dimmed for a moment, but then came back as it disappated. "The pain should be dying down now. Put this over the cut." He said, throwing her a bandage and moving away before she could say anything about the awkward situation,

Deciding that he needed to intervene for the girls safety, he turned invisible and sprinted across the empty room, his footfalls hardly heard, grabbing the girl and get her away from the man with the sword. When he was behind the line of guards, he made himself visible again, and made sure the girl had her bear, and put her back by the large chair by the fire, which he sank into himself, putting his head down towards his chest, looking as if he were nodding off, but instead taking in the situation around the room and watching the two girls he had come in contact with.

There went the young black haired thief. Tonight had not been his night, and it looked like those stairs were only going to make it worse for him. But he had been so stubborn and isolationist so far that Kay was fairly sure there was no interaction with him beyond being told to get lost. But that wasn't on Kay's mind for long.

Guards were not actually what Kay was looking forward to. Hell, considering the behavior of the men who had started the fight in the inn and the rumors that they were murders, Kay didn't figure this town even had guards. What was immediately at the top of her mind now was the wanted posted that she had talked about with Whimsy. The little girl had been right, in this particular town the wanted posted would have been in Kay's head, but Kay was still unaware of Whimsy's powers, and could only imagine that if a little girl recognized her then the guards certainly would as well.

She watched the interchange between Whimsy and Carcaroth, unconcerned at first, especially since Carcaroth was apologizing for scaring the innocent child. But then he had a change of heart and started yelling again. Having had observed how he acted and vocalized during the fight, as unaware of Carcaroth and Kerel's condition as she was of Whimsy's, Kay figured he was just the tightly wound and mood-swingy type. Luckily she didn't have to get involved as the black robed boy pulled her away from Carcaroth.

Oh had he? Kay rubbed her right eye through her hood with the underside of her fingers. She saw Whimsy being pulled back, and she saw Tarok standing in front of her now back before her chair. Had she missed something? Kay shrugged it off. She was used to missing things with how she wore her hood. And she preferred it that way. She liked her rose colored view of the world rather than having to see it for what it really was, amusingly more literally than metaphorically.

But she now counted three children in close proximity. This was good enough to get out of there with. Heading back towards the fireplace and Whimsy's chair, she went to offer Whimsy her hand, then would gently try to head her towards the stairs, while turning her head towards Tarok.

"Come on, lets go up stairs and leave the reporting to the guards to our two friends here," she said to the older-than-he-looked Tarok.

On the way, Kay would probably catch up to Zolf and would whisper to him, "Will you let me help you up the stairs this time? I'm not sure where you're going considering you lost... your... key," she said with an amused smile, "but you're welcome to come with us," she added.

Whether Kay had even made it away from the chair by the fireplace and all this, of course, was dependent on how Whimsy reacted to learning about Kerel.

"What do you want, brat? Do you think I care whether someone pissed their pants because they can't handle some good old-fashioned bloodshed? I probably saved your life."

Whimsy heard the sudden change in his tone. But now, she knew why he was so intimidating. When Carcaroth spoke, she understood that he was a kind, devoted person. When Kerel spoke, she knew Carca, at some point or another, had been possessed by one of them. As far as she knew, that was worse than being killed by one of them. The demon in Carcaroth was bad, and also very old, possibly worse in most everything it caused, namely destruction, then all the ones she'd ever seen. Kerel made her demons look like small potatoes.

In an attempt to corral Kerel back into the dark abscesses of Carcaroth's head, Whimsy tugged on his coat again, taking no heed of the guards around them, and Kerel's harsh backtalk to men of the law. "Mister Carcaroth... Please... come back. Whimsy is afraid of Kerel, not you." She sensed something coming. Something like one of them, but not like Kerel. She glanced over, and saw Tarok, who was trying to be invisible. Whimsy could see him, though, just like if he had been one of them. He picked her up, and took Whimsy back to her chair, as if she needed to sit there. Why everyone kept picking her up when she could handle herself, she hadn't the faintest idea.

Upon setting Whimsy down, Tarok seemed to fall asleep. So much for figuring out who he was...

Kay offered Whimsy her hand. Whimsy smiled gently like a perfect little lady and dipped her head a little, stepping daintily to her feet, Mister Cuddles tucked firmly between her elbow and her armpit. "Whimsy would be happy to accompany you, Miss Kay." She took Miss Kay's hand and set off to the stairs with her.

Tarok looked up wearily, to see a woman in a red cloak start to walk away with the young girl, who appeared to have some sort of power over the mind. Reading it without restrictions can drive you crazy. Tarok had seen it happen before. Silently, he stood up, his back popping as he did so, and followed Miss Kay, as the chld had called her. Free room..... Tarok thought ironically. That's what he had set out to have given to him after his fighting.

Tarok followed Kay up to the stairs, where she stopped and had a whispered conversation with a young man that Tarok did not care to hear. He just followed Kay, acting (partially) dead-dog tired, but still keeping his wits about in case he was attacked again. He didn't really care who the woman was, he just needed to get some sleep.

Zolf's slow climb up the stairs was sped up when the guards entered the inn - he'd been in troble with them once, he didn't think they'd be so forgiving a second time. The woman in red caught up with him, offering him help.

'I can take the stairs myself - I don't need help!' he protested.

But he had forgotten about his missing key as soon as the guards had arrived...and he did need somewhere to hide from them, not to mention a good rest. He supposed he could put up with this strange group of people for one night, and make his escape in the morning. He gave in and allowed himself to be swept along with her.

OoC:: Here's a discussion thread if anyone wants to make use of it.

BiC:: Fate's attention immediately turned to Carcaroth when he began shouting, and only briefly went back to the boy that was helping her as he appeared to heal her nonphysical wounds. Her eyes widened as the pain slowly left her body, and she watched as he held her hand, muttering her thanks to him with a hint of confusion. Over the noise, he probably couldn't even hear it.

After catching the bandages he threw at her, she looked back to Carcaroth and his situation, not even noticing the boy disappear. In the corner of her eye, she saw a red cloaked woman guide the "kids" up the stairs with her. She hadn't recognized her from before, but her mind didn't dwell on it for more than a mere second.

"This man is dangerous, take him down!" Ordered one of the men, he looked like he was of higher importance than the rest. Most likely the leader of the squad. Hearing this, Fate shot up from the bench she was sitting on, ignoring any of the pain she felt as she did so.

"Please wait!" She shouted, making her way towards the circle of men that surrounded Carcaroth and were now drawing their weapons, which consisted of swords, spears and the like.

"Stay out of this, young lady." Responded one of the guards, not even glancing at her as he said it. His spear was pointed straight at Carcaroth.

With an angered grunt, Fate pushed herself between two of the guards in front of her and threw her arms out as if she was guarding Carcaroth, while facing the guards that surrounded them. "You've not gathered any real information yet, at least consider more possibilities before you jump to conclusions!" She shouted, glaring at the men in front of her. Though, after seeing the look on Carcaroth's face, she didn't know who she was trying to protect. She hadn't seen what happened inside the lounge after she was thrown out of it, but if he had killed most of those men, these guards would probably be a joke.

"We'll consider the possibilities when he stands down!" shouted the guard at Fate. Kerel grinned in a way that only he could grin - with devilish delight and murderous intent.

"Do it then, cowards," he mocked. That was all the provocation needed to spark them into action. Kerel - or possibly Carcaroth in a moment of temporary dominance of his own body - shoved Fate out of harm's way as the first attack came. The spear lunged towards Kerel, who stepped lightly to the side and cleaved the blade right off the staff. This seemed to be a quick lesson to the other guards, who decided to go with swords instead.

"That's not good enough," shouted Kerel with laughter in his voice, before promptly relieving a guard of his right arm. The man went crashing into the ground with a scream, clutching his bleeding stump.

The next wasn't so lucky. Before he had even gotten the chance to look at what had happened to his comrade, his legs were both separated from the rest of his body by a swift and clean cut from the demon's red sword.

"Scream a little louder," growled Kerel as he watched the two guards writhe in pain on the floor. "Maybe that will make it go away. If you ask nicely, I might end it for you."