"You managed to detain some in the process. Nicely done."

Zarius looks at Veliky as she pretends not to have just been tripped over. "It was no trouble." A lie, it was.

He lets Veliky interrogate the goons while he starts dealing with the magical goop Veliky so kindly poured on his head. The tingly sensation was not painful but it was still unpleasant to him. Something about the blessed nature of the goop seemed to disagree with contacting his skin, mildly irritating it, but its overall potency and effectiveness had mostly worn off. 

Looking around at the mess left by the brigands, he had to admit the amount of damage the brigands had brought down upon the store and the street beyond it was impressive for such a ridiculously dressed group. The locals certainly would not be happy to clean up after them when everything was said and done. At the very least, his and Veliky's interference seemed to have prevented any loss of life as far as they knew. 

Zarius looks at Veliky, watching her as she continues her questioning. For someone of such small stature, she was impressive. She had shown great skill, forethought, and bravery. He was glad they were on the same side. She would be a pain in the neck otherwise. 

The smoke burning his eyes finally gets unignorably unpleasant. There were new flames creeping through the broken display window. Those goons that fled must have started it as a parting gift for them. How considerate. 

It worked in their favor though. Veliky secured the information they needed in order to get to the bottom of this whole incident. Lunala knows the guards were sure taking their sweet time arriving on the scene. Once again, he was impressed with Veliky. He could appreciate skillful manipulation and clean interrogation. Well, clean-ish.

Though she sure had nerve to order him around like a lacky. He'd let it slide for now. 

"Yes, Ma'am." He says in a sarcastic tone, but all the same does as she asks. He makes sure to toss the goons unceremoniously out onto the street then circles around to meet back up with her.

"So, how do you want to approach this? The haunted house will likely be full of traps and more of these fools." 

He looks about at what is left of Veliky's construct companions. The thought to use them as a distraction while they snuck in the back crossed his mind, but he was still unsure how emotionally attached Veliky was to them. 

Outside, the battle has clearly died down, though the fires have not. Some of the attackers are being rounded up. It seems that no innocents were killed, at least; this was not the gang's intent.

Veliky stands attentively, facing away from Zarius and toward Bishop, which appears undamaged. 

"Just a moment, Zarius," she curtly regards the tiefling. "Bishop, continue."

"Affirmative: The city guard arrived at T-plus one minute, twenty-seven seconds. Their assistance greatly improved our combat efficacy. 34% of the attackers were killed. 39% of the attackers were detained. 27% of the attackers escaped."

"Any casualties?"

"Affirmative: No civilians and no conscripts were killed. However, unit Envy-01 was shot and disabled by an archer."

"Nominal."

"Report: We were unable to successfully track the escaped attackers."

"That won't be a problem. Grab Fisher and bring it to the intersection of Feever Avenue and Silver Street, ASaP. Tell the rest of the bots to assist the guards."

The bot beeps in response. Both it and Veliky turn away from each other at once.

"Zarius, walk with me."

---

Just as she'd commanded Bishop, Veliky marches down Feever Avenue, toward Silver Street - a meeting place. There's a certain momentum that Veliky maintains, an ambient high that makes her strides - meagre as they are - more powerful.

"Given your questions, I'm assuming you're willing to continue helping. That's good. If there's anything I can say about the city guard, it's that they aren't worth a damn; they won't be able to deal with a threat like this and, even if they do, they'll lose people. We can't let that happen."

The fires fade from view as the two cut through an alley. The moonlight provides sufficient illumination, and the panic has frightened any would-be unsavoury folk from the darker corners.

"That said, I can't be certain what level of threat we'll be dealing with. Report said that 27% escaped, but even those ones will be licking their wounds. As for traps, in my experience, hideouts of this type don't bother with them. Usually, their biggest threat is the city guard, and if one or two guards die to a dart trap, the city will just send more. The only defense they can rely on is secrecy. Still, they'll fight... What's the Common phrase? Hand and foot? Anyway, they'll fight us, we can trust that."

The two emerge onto Silver Street, not as festively decorated as Feever Avenue but neither as ablaze. In fact, it's eerily empty, save for a carriage rolling down the road, toward them. Veliky hails it.

"I'm concerned about this 'Mr. Game' character, though. He's probably just some charismatic businessman, but he obviously has access to some of the strangest magical equipment I've ever seen. After what we saw in the Haunt Shop, I wouldn't be surprised if he throws explosive toads at us."

The carriage slows to a stop in front of them. The bald man at the reins appears paranoid, sweating with darting eyes. Not an unreasonable disposition on a night like this. Veliky regards him coldly.

"Can you wait for a couple minutes? We're waiting for someone."

The man quickly nods. Veliky looks back to Zarius.

"Any experience dealing with gangs?"

"You are really bossy." He remarks as they head down the street. He doesn't mean it as criticism and more as friendly teasing.

"Well, while I could run away, I fear that you would hold it against me. Considering this is the second time we have crossed paths, I would prefer to stay on your good side for future encounters." 

He agreed with her sentiments about the guards. If city guards were more effective there would be less of a need for adventuring folk such as themselves. Even if both of them had their own goals they were working towards, the half-halfling half-goblin and tiefling were adventurers with some responsibility to get involved in these kinds of messes. Whether that be for the benefit of the common folk or to their detriment. 

Veliky's rationale about the tactics the remaining brigands would use was pretty sound. He still thought that there might be some trickery within the haunted house that they would have to be mindful of, but she was right that it would likely just devolve into another brawl.

Taking that into consideration, he pulls some gauze from his bag and starts wrapping up the bite marks on his arm. It wasn't ideal, but it would do for another scrap. 

The mention of explosive toads does get a chuckle out of him. Still he had to question Veliky's judgement of this Mr. Game they had just learned about. 

"A businessman? Why do you say that?"

Zarius eyes the carriage driver with suspicion. Sure, there were a bunch of costumed maniacs running around breaking into places and setting fires, but he seemed especially on edge. If he was so scared, why not go home until it was safer? Something about him was setting off alarm bells. Veliky didn't seem deterred through. 

"Any experience dealing with gangs?"

He almost laughs at the question. If being part of a whole criminal syndicate constantly at war with other organized crime groups counted, he had experience in spades. "Quite a bit actually. You?"

"There's a saying in Halfling: 'Na vidun naa ekk kat na dorei men'kk con.'" Her accent is much more noticeable when she's speaking in her native tongue. "In Common: 'The weed that shuns the dirt is stunted.'"

Veliky peers down the street, awaiting Bishop and Fisher. Her analogy, admittedly, isn't entirely clear - not until she continues.

"Let's just say that both your questions have the same answer." Then, before Zarius can respond: "They're here."

As she claims, Bishop and Fisher hiss and clank around the corner. The trident-wielded Fisher is lightly wounded, with a cracked eye and cuts along its arms. They both stand before Veliky at attention, and Bishop emanates some sort of scratching noise. Veliky knows what it means, apparently, as she nods to the bot. She walks to the front of the wagon and tosses a small pouch of solars onto the driver's seat.

"Warren Street, and fast."

She doesn't even wait for a response, though the man does nod. She looks at the party.

"Get in. Fisher, boost me."

And it does. The bot, even while holding its trident, lifts Veliky by her armpits like a toddler, into the carriage. The only thing more comical than Veliky's acceptance of the transposition is her look of dourness as she does so. The bots follow her in, their knees clicking in a painful-sounding manner as they bend. Zarius, too, belaying his skepticism for the moment, climbs in last and closes the door behind him.

Within the carriage, there is no light except that which pierces the tiny openings in the doors. As the wagon grumbles to life and rumbles over the cobbled street, the torchlights shine back and forth in the wagon, sweeping from Veliky to Zarius like the eyes of a suspicious miser before disappearing and reappearing to illuminate the little woman's grim visage again. The light is hardly necessary to see her, however, as her cold, blue eyes seem to glow through the darkness, staring unwaveringly into Zarius'.

"Speaking of sayings, I think there's a Common analogy - one about carts and horses, fittingly. We can establish a plan once we see what we're dealing with."

She blinks - normally such a slight, unimportant function, but there's something about her eyes that demands attention, foremost and constant like the full moon outside. They're almost hypnotizing. Staring too long, one begins to see patterns in the blinking, like the rhythm of dripping water... no, there is a pattern. Not just any pattern, either, it's a code, and one that Zarius knows. "Driver is plotting. Let him."

This message repeats thrice, with only the bumping and rumbling of the wagon to fill the silence. Once it has, she speaks again. Her voice is, as always, cold and mature. It's difficult to tell what she's feeling, or even if she's feeling.

"Most people would've run by now. Why'd you agree to this?"

He had to abstain from making all the jokes rattling around in his head at Veliky's expense as he watches her construct pick her up like a toddler and place her inside the carriage. While he was sure she could take a certain amount of teasing, he was also certain she would not hesitate to coat him in something worse than the holy goop from earlier. 

It was pretty tight inside the wagon with four occupants. Zarius is careful to not step on the constructs as he crawls over their legs. He plops down opposite of Veliky in the dark space.

After sitting in silence for a bit, Zarius nods slightly to indicate that he understood the message she was conveying with the excessive blinking. It was a good thing no one else was able to see them otherwise they may mistake her fluttering eyelashes as some sort of strange mating ritual.

Veliky seemed to have a plan of her own despite her earlier comment about horses and carts. Though the driver's paranoid behavior put him on edge, he'd trust her judgement for the time being. She had shown quick thinking and a key eye for detail throughout this whole ordeal. She was small but fully capable in her own right. 

He sits back in the carriage seat, folding his arms across his chest. "I could ask you the same thing, but I suppose you have investment in this city and the wellbeing of its people."

He glances to the darkened windows of the carriage. Maybe at one point one could have see through the panes of glass, but they were so clouded with dark stains that it was impossible to see beyond their grimy surface. The driver could be taking them anywhere and they would be none-the-wiser. 

"Like I said, I fear you would think lesser of me if I ran at this point. While I have no personal investment in Sol City itself, I do value whatever you would call this...understanding we have is." 

A grin spreads across his face. "That, and you just started barking orders so I wanted to save you the embarrassement of looking foolish by leaving."

Okay, so maybe her couldn't resist teasing her just a little. 

The carriage rattles to a stop a few moment later. Seems they have arrived at their destination. As Zarius leans forward to reach for the door though, he feels the seat under him suddenly give away under his weight. 

From Veliky's point of view, the black leather upholstered bench seat Zarius was sitting on suddenly opens up under him revealing a gaping mouth lined with rows of short stubby teeth and a long lashing tongue. The tongue wraps around the tiefling's torso and sharply yanks him in before the mouth slams shut, followed up with a satisfied gulping sound as it swallows Zarius whole. 

Turns out this carriage wasn't a carriage at all, and instead was a carriage sized mimic!

Inside the mimic's gullet, Zairus pushes against the fleshy mucous lined walls trying to get any amount of leverage. He starts flailing inside the mimic's guts. The kicks and punches make the whole carriage rattle and shake. Parts of the mimic that look like they are made out of rigid material bulge and stretch unnaturally as he struggles to get out of the predicament. The mimic burps a bit from the indigestion, but manages to keep the freshly consumed tiefling down.

"Given the circumstances, embarrassment would be the least of my-"

Veliky leaps nearly her own height into the air as Zarius is dragged into the morayish maw, only to stand when she realizes that her own seat has begun to squirm. Her panicked eyes dart from wall to wall. It's all moving! But she can't let confusion hold her for long.

"Zarius!"

She kneels down and punches the floor, which writhes in pain from her divine power^[1]. With enough force, maybe she could...

Then, she hears a shuffling from the driver's seat. Where had the driver gone? She looks up, at the gap through which he might be seen. At first, there's nothing, but then the grinning visage of a jack-o-lantern, features wreathed in flame, leers back at her.

"GYA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAH! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to accept rides from strangers?!" The pumpkin's face moves unnaturally, its lips flapping and eyes widening just as a person's would.

Veliky stares back, her earnest fear overridden by the pique.

"I thought Mr. Game was running a gang, not a comedy club!" she spits back.

This remark twists the jack-o-lantern's face into a scowl. That Veliky knows his boss's name is an unpleasant surprise.

"You'll find there's much you don't know about Mr. Game!"

He faces forward. His outfit is complete with a black-purple cloak. He flicks his wrist and, from his sleeve, produces a ten-yard-long whip made from vertebrae connected by tendon.

"Roar, Jill! ROAR!"

He cracks the whip against the backs of the horses, which rear in pain before dashing down the road, jerking the vehicle into motion again. As its wheels grind against the cobbled streets, the false wagon's woodlike membrane burns away, revealing the mimic's true materials: bone, muscle and tissue.

Veliky looks at the living cabin, panicked. Her eyes fall on Bishop and Fisher, still seated, as their protocol offers no guidance on how to combat this foe.

"Stand up, you idiots! Away from the walls!"

The moment the command passes her lips, the walls sprout countless, razor-sharp teeth. Fisher stands in time to avoid them; Bishop's eyes go dark as its back is punctured by myriad fangs.

But even the two that survived are not safe. The walls of the carriage squelch as they grow closer, intent on crushing and devouring them!

Ever the quick thinker, Veliky already has an idea.

"Fisher, hold your trident laterally! Jam the walls for as long as possible!"

Its acknowledgment-beeps can't be heard over the mimic's repulsive, anatomical noises, but it obeys. The walls close in, but become jammed by the trident, whose prongs bleed the walls disgustingly.

Meanwhile, crouching by Fisher's feet, Veliky punches the floor again and, again, it quivers in pain^[1]. But it isn't enough. She needs something more.  Quickly, she grabs Bishop's case of bolts from its hip and removes one before stabbing it into the floor. Holy power^[1] and electricity^[2] each course agonizingly through the monster's flesh. With bleeding leverage, she puts all her force into prying open the jaws ensnaring Zarius.

---

1. Angelic Light
2. Enchanting Sigil

Zarius feels the mimic lurch back into motion and the stomach muscles of the creature tighten around him to try and crush the breath out of him. A few of the teeth dig into his back as he tries to push back against the walls of flesh. He couldn't get a good grip on anything, it was too slippery thanks to the mucous which he was now coated in. He missed Veliky's holy goop already. 

He had to think of something fast or else he would suffocate in the tight space. As he reaches into his pockets to try and fetch his knuckle knives, he notices that the mucous was starting to eat away at the fabric.^[1]

A string of muffled swears in Infernal are drowned out by the cackling of the driver and the thundering of the horses' hooves against he cobblestone as they gallop down the street at full speed. 

His fingers graze the familiar shape of his weapons and he quickly slips them on. Using what limited range of motion he has, he jams the sharp end into the flesh of the mimic. It shudders and gurgles as at the same time it is pierced by Fisher's trident. The mimic's stomach muscles loosen and Zarius manages to twist around and use his weapons like ice picks to pulls himself back to where he hoped was a way out of this thing. 

Much to his relief, Veliky manages to pry open the mimic's jaws. The problem was that the tongue was still lashing out and blocking his way out. Frustrated and not willing to try and find an alternative way out the mimic, Zarius grapples the tongue and jams the points of his weapons into it.^[2]

He's annoyed. He's injured. He's getting tired. He's had enough of all this. He slashes the underside of the tongue near its base, severing it as he twists and rips it loose.

The entire carriage thrashes about in pain.

"Woah! Woa-AAAH!" The pumpkin headed driver tries to keep a hold of the reins only for the carriage to buck him up into the air in its throws of pain. 

The carriage lists to the side and the horses whinny in distress as they charge forward.

Zarius quickly tumbles out of the mimic's mouth as it twists and sees the 'door' dislodge and fly open. Only one thought crosses his mind in that moment. He doesn't give Veliky a chance to protest as he grabs the back of her clothes and tosses her up and out of the carriage.

"Sorry, not sorry!" He calls after her then grabs onto Fisher and throws himself and the construct out of the carriage onto the street, attempting to keep the construct from being damaged by the landing, just before the mimic slams into the side of a building with a loud SQUELCH. 

The trident skewers through the mimic as the momentum causes it to crumple in on itself. There's a terrible monstrous shriek from the bloodied amorphous creature. 

Zarius rolls onto his back and lets go of Fisher.

"Ow." Everything hurt from that.

He looks around and sees the horses take off running, free from the mimic carriage now plastered on the exterior of a building. The pumpkin-headed man was a few yards back from the crash, painfully getting to his feet.

"Curses, curses on all of you!" The man shrieks into the night air. 

On the street corner is a sign which reads Warren Street. 

---

[1] Knuckle Knife. The knuckle knife is a unique weapon, created from a set of brass knuckles, this item is a small metal set of knuckles that allows its user to fit their fingers inside of the rings. This covers the knuckles in a metal coating, letting them punch or block with their knuckles. Additionally a small metal spike or blade sticks out from the side, giving it extra punching power.
[2] Iron Grip. Due to all the training and strengthening of their hands, the brawler has gained an incredible grip strength, able to hold onto anything or anyone. Their grip is so tight now that they can no longer have things ripped from their grasping, preventing things from knocking or pulling objects out of their hand, regardless of how hard it was hit or how strong the force was. This also makes them excellent grapplers, able to hold onto an enemy without easily being pushed off.

"You son of a-"

Thrown again. The previous one, at least, was debatably necessary. But this? At this point, Zarius is having a bit too much fun treating Veliky as a projectile. It's fortunate for her - and for Zarius - that Veliky's clever frame makes falls generally less painful for her. That doesn't make it precisely comfortable as she lands and rolls on the rough, cobbled ground.

Fisher is more compliant, though its tin hull does send sparks flying as it grinds across the stone. It rises much quicker than Veliky does, partly because Veliky spends several seconds growling and scowling in humiliated anger.

But, just as before with the witch, there's no opportunity to berate Zarius, as the pumpkin-headed chauffeur has already risen, shrieking.

"GYYAAAAAH!"

The shrill rattle of bones resounds through the street as the pumpkin-headed driver swings his spine-whip through the air. It sweeps in a wide arc. Sparks fly again as it collides into Fisher, sending it spinning and reeling to the ground with a loud clatter.

The whip makes a full revolution before humming toward Veliky. She's ready, or so she thinks. She steps back, out of its circumference, but it suddenly stops directly in front of her, becoming rigid. The spine then twists and extends unnaturally, wrapping around her body, restraining her with a mind of its own!

"Wha- oh, hell." Her face becomes expressionless as she resigns herself to whatever new nonsense this is.

The man yanks the whip, swinging it through the air again, but now with Veliky at the end. Dizzied and disoriented, she'd be screaming if the experience weren't making her dreadfully nauseated. All of her vitality and willpower is now focused on keeping her hot cocoa down - she can do little else.

The man sneers at Zarius.

"Come, little tiefling. Come into the fire!"

The flames contained in his jack-o-lantern head spew forward like the breath of a dragon, scorching the cobbled street. The heat rises unbearably as the blaze closes toward Zarius.

Zarius swears under his breath as Fisher is struck with the whip. He gets back onto his feet with a sore grunt. 

These costumed goons had worn down any patience he had left. Rolling his shoulders, he cracks his neck and stares down the pumpkin-headed driver's gout of fire. 

He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the hot air and smell of smoke and ash. For a brief moment, the head and the scents bring him back to memories in a far off land. His eyes harden.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he dashes around the cone of fire and closes the distance between himself and the driver. He keeps low to avoid the whirling whip as he gets in close, and once he is in close combat range he quickly jabs the driver in the base of his pumpkin head with the spiked end of his weapons.^[1,2]

"Gyah!" The driver exclaims, cutting off the fire breath.

Zarius grabs the bottom lip of the pumpkin's jeering face and yanks him down sharply to follow up the earlier jab with a knee to the face.^[3,4] He releases his grip and ducks under the path of the spine whip to get behind the driver.

Widening his stance for stability, he grapples the driver around the waist. He tenses his core muscles and with great effort, lifts the larger foe off the ground.

"I have had enough of this!"

With a swift motion, he bends backwards suddenly, suplexing the gourd-head into the hard cobblestone. The jack-o-lantern-like head of the driver smashes into pieces across the street and its grip releases on the whip. 

The tiefling recovers from the throw and huffs. Glancing back at the driver, it appears he is knocked out from getting his head driven into the ground.

Zarius scoffs. Serves him right. These costumed brigands are ridiculously unhinged.

He turns and jogs over to help Veliky get free of the whip. She was looking more like a goblin now with the nauseous green tinge to her face. If he wasn't trying to keep his own building frustration in check, he would probably make a quip at her sickly hue. 

"My apologies for throwing you. Are you okay?" He asks.

---

[1] Dashing. This enchantment buffs the user instead of the weapon, allowing the wielder to dash a very short distant while simultaneously striking, giving them the chance to close a gap and attack at the same time. The dash can be seen but gives them a spurt of energy.
[2] Knuckle Knives. The knuckle knife is a unique weapon, created from a set of brass knuckles, this item is a small metal set of knuckles that allows its user to fit their fingers inside of the rings. This covers the knuckles in a metal coating, letting them punch or block with their knuckles. Additionally a small metal spike or blade sticks out from the side, giving it extra punching power.
[3] Iron Grip. Due to all the training and strengthening of their hands, the brawler has gained an incredible grip strength, able to hold onto anything or anyone. Their grip is so tight now that they can no longer have things ripped from their grasping, preventing things from knocking or pulling objects out of their hand, regardless of how hard it was hit or how strong the force was. This also makes them excellent grapplers, able to hold onto an enemy without easily being pushed off.
[4] Two Piece. Brawlers have learned to combo their attacks, able to deliver quick successful attacks one after another. If a brawler is able to successfully land an attack with just their fist, they can launch another attack with their other fist directly after it as apart of the same attack. This follow up attack follows the outcome of the first, meaning if the first strike lands, the second one will automatically land.

Veliky landed surprisingly far from Zarius - nearly fifty feet. Her face has turned a pale green; it's only natural after what she'd just been through. But, as Zarius grows closer, less obvious things become apparent. She's breathing heavily through clenched teeth, and her eyes are wide and wavering. Then...

"GET BACK!"

Her entire body glows with a radiant force^[1] that bursts the whip apart, sending vertebrae scattering across the street. She remains enveloped in white for several seconds. By the time it fades, she's on her knees, clutching her right arm. Her breath seethes and stutters through her teeth. She's holding back tears.

It had been a comedic sight, seeing Veliky soar through the air, attached to the end of some novel whip. But what had actually happened was far less funny, for when Zarius took the chauffeur down, the whip was released with Veliky still in its grasp. The whip being as long as it was, Veliky could've been no less than twenty feet in the air. She's lucky to have escaped with only a broken arm.

She stifles a sob. If she closes her eyes, it's almost as if she's a child again, back in her tiny village in King's Valley. She feels the same polarizing temperature: heat from the festive firelight, cold from the breeze of the Autumn night. She feels the same glow of the same full moon glinting off her sweat. She feels the same pain of the same broken limb, and the same humiliation of being made to cry before her peers.

And then there's the presence, not from that night, but familiar nonetheless; presence like rays of the blazing sun, just in her periphery; voice like the disdain of a father, audible only to her.

"...What's this? Ah, of course. I come back, and the first thing I see is my so-called champion grovelling like a child."

She inhales deeply. There's a correlation between breath and pain; it's weaker, less noticeable as she breathes in, only to return when she breathes out. She exhales, and it shoots through her body again. She doubles over.

"Do you not realize that so much more could've been done to you? You could've lost the arm. You could've lost your life. Is this really all it takes to break you?"

"NO! I'm FINE!"

A more healthy flush slowly returns to her cheeks, but her breath is still heavy and ragged. In a quick, but clumsy motion, she raises to one knee, then plants the other foot shakily below her. She looks up to see the black-skinned tiefling and addresses him between pants.

"Come on... We're close..."

She doesn't know how she's going to fight in this condition, especially with Fisher and Bishop destroyed, but she has no choice. She risks far more than death in resignation.

And so, she slowly treads down the sidewalk, steadying herself against the walls of the shops and storehouses that line the street.

"I'm okay, really^[2]... It's not as bad as I...-" She winces in pain and slams her fist into the wall with enough divine power^[1] to crack the masonry. "-as I'm making it look! I'll walk it off... Come on."

---

1. Angelic Light
2. Smooth Talking

"GET BACK!"

The tiefling freezes in his tracks and shields his face as the radiant burst sends shards of the bone whip flying past. He winces as he gets scratched a bit but it was superficial compared to the other wounds he had collected during this whole debacle. He slowly lowers his arms once the light dies down. 

He doesn't approach, there was no telling what Veliky's magic could do to someone of his heritage. He does eye her up and down. She was clutching her arm and she was falling apart mentally.

Damn.

He should have paid more attention to getting her free first before dealing with the pumpkin-headed driver. He had figured she had magic which she could have used to protect herself from the fall. A miscalculation on his part, and now she was injured enough to let her untouchable façade break. 

She suddenly looks a lot younger to him. Her behavior had been so mature up to this point that it never crossed his mind that she was actually just putting on a brave face. 

He considers their options. What support he could offer was limited as he was no healer. There likely weren't any healers in the immediate area either. At the very least, they needed to get out of the open. They were vulnerable here and Veliky was in no shape to continue fighting. 

He steps towards her. 

"NO! I'm FINE!"

He stops. Her expression had changed and she got up on her own, but she was still visibly shaken. 

"Come on... We're close..."

He doesn't follow her at first and just watches her stumble off down the sidewalk. His eyes narrow and his expression darkens. They couldn't move forward with her like this. As heartless as it was, the reality was that Veliky was now a liability rather than an asset.

He flinches when she slams her fist into the building. Oh, boy. This was going to be a pain. Even as injured as she is, she still had energy to burn. Still, at this rate, she would get them both killed. That didn't sit well with him. This wasn't where he wanted to fall. There was too much work to do.

He takes a deep breath and lets it back out slowly after holding it for a few seconds. Time to take control of this situation. 

As she trudges down the road, Zarius catches up then abruptly cuts her off. He looks down his nose at her and does not budge. 

"We need to stop," he says firmly. "Let us find a safe place to rest for a moment and address your injury before we do anything else. I have some supplies but I can only do so much without your cooperation."

"I'll walk it off, Zarius!" she shouts. Her face is pallid, but defiant as it looks up at the towering, black tiefling. Her breathing remains heavy and nauseous. "Unless you've got a prosthetic laying around, I'm one arm down either way! Putting a bandage on it won't do a damned thing! So I- I-"

She leans lightheadedly against the sundered wall. Her eyes cross for a brief second. She nearly passes out. But an awful feeling other than pain rouses her from the stupor. Her shattered arm feels wet; she looks to it with dread and sees a red stain slowly spreading across her sleeve. Blood trickles down her fingers, dripping onto the stone below.

Just as squeezing an apple can cause it to split, ample compressive or blunt force can cause a person's skin to burst open. When the tiny halfblood landed on the street, it opened a wide, ugly gash in her arm.

But, more than the wound itself, Veliky is disturbed by the credence it lends to Zarius' words. None of her magic can save her now. She breathes in ragged, furious heaves as she glares at her only hope for survival. There's real anger, real hate in her eyes.

"Fine! Alley, now!"

In obeisance to her own words, she treads unsteadily into a rift between shops nearby. One's meaning in saying 'alley' may be more filth-ridden than this one truly is; firelight from paneless windows and cracks in doors lends warmth on an otherwise cold night.

She feels every agonizing ounce of weight in her arm being pulled down by gravity, excruciating her fragmented shoulder. Bracing herself with her back, she slowly, carefully slides down the wall to sit, stifling groans and wincing in pain.

"Sew it up, nothing else. I don't give a damn about infection. Got it?!"

She looks to the left, into the void of the deeper alley, and away from both her broken arm and Zarius. She prays to whatever gods that may exist to damn him for putting her in this state in the first place, and herself for allowing it to happen. If only Bishop yet lived to put a bolt in his head if he tried anything.

Zarius just stares down at Veliky, meeting her gaze full of anger and hate. He knew those eyes too well, but for once he felt it wasn't completely warranted. Most of time it was. He had caused a lot of people a lot of pain in order to break the spirits and their silence. He had crushed people under his boot heel, wrenched their limbs from their sockets and cracked their skulls. It was just a part of the job after all. He hadn't meant for her to get thrown. She probably knew that, but in this moment he was easier to take her frustrations out on.

Don't take it personally. The only thing that mattered now was doing whatever is necessary to keep this little tyrant from diving headfirst into a dragon's lair.

He follows Veliky into the alley while rummaging through his medical kit.^[1] There was only so much he could do with the mundane supplies at his disposal. And of course, he carried no pain suppressants. His mother had more experience with fixing things that were broken than him, he had lost count of how many times his younger brother would be found wandering the halls of their home crying because he scraped a knee or bonked his head. This was much more than a simple case of road rash though.

"Sew it up, nothing else."

She had to be delusional. Looking over the gash down Veliky's arm, it's deep and there is a significant amount of blood weeping from it. He certainly could use sutures to close it as it wasn't like she had gotten chunks of flesh torn off. However, it was obvious to him that simply closing the wound would be pointless. Her arm was broken and the bone was surely displaced. Sewing up the wound without addressing the break would just result in the sutures popping if she was jostled in the slightest. No. If she was going to insist on fighting still, he would have to do more than just 'nothing else'.

"Got it?!"

He simply nods in response and sets about getting to work. He crouches next to her and pulls out everything he needs to dress the wound, but he keeps a piece of material that will serve as a temporary splint out of her line of sight. He half-expected that he would have to get Veliky in a headlock in order to do what he was planning to do.

"Here. Bite on this so you don't bite off your tongue." He offers one of his dip pens to her as he feigns holding a needle and thick medical threat in his other hand as if he fully intends to follow her orders.^[2]

Once she is set and looking away, he breathes and gets a firm grip on her arm.^[3] It hurts a lot but he keeps her from jerking away. He digs his fingers into her skin and the muscle to find the break, ignoring the blood seeping between his fingers and into his gloves. Sterile this certainly was not.

Feeling around the break, he could tell it was a very bad. The bone was displaced as he had suspected. He could apply traction to reset it. That would be best. Even if he couldn't save the arm in the long run it would be bad for it to get worse from flopping around without any structural integrity at all.

He leans his weight against Veliky to keep her from escaping his grasp.

"Do. Not. Hit. Me." He warns the angry half-goblin. Last thing he needed was a swollen eye on top of all his other injuries.

Gripping her arm above the elbow with one hand and pinning her shoulder against the wall, he pulls slowly towards himself while ignoring and protesting. The bone grinds against itself then clicks into place. Careful not to dislodge anything, he adjusts his hold and tucks her arm under his armpit to free up a hand. He quickly grabs the splint and the gauze and makes short work of securing the splint in place.

Once that is done, he moves on to addressing the gash. He keeps Veliky still as he pierces the flesh around the wound with the needle and thread over and over until the wound is closed. He then dresses the wound with a few layers of gauze and wraps the whole upper part of her arm.

At this point, he kneels back off of her and starts folding a makeshift sling out of some extra material in the medical kit. It wasn't much but it would at least keep the weight of her forearm from pulling the bone apart again.

---

[1] Medical Kit. A small bag of medical supplies used for everyday use. Comes filled with basic medical supplies such as bandages, tape, ointment and other basic items helpful in mending wounds.
[2] Quick Palm. A simple technique that allows you to hold small items in the palm of your hand with no effort at all. You have mastered the skill of holding an item in your hand and making it look natural. In addition you can hold the item in a way that makes it look like the item is not there, concealing it within your palm. This does not work on large items like a sword or shield.
[3] Iron Grip. Due to all the training and strengthening of their hands, the brawler has gained an incredible grip strength, able to hold onto anything or anyone. Their grip is so tight now that they can no longer have things ripped from their grasping, preventing things from knocking or pulling objects out of their hand, regardless of how hard it was hit or how strong the force was. This also makes them excellent grapplers, able to hold onto an enemy without easily being pushed off.

Veliky is not a quiet patient. She thrashes, kicks and shouts all throughout Zarius' treatment, tears streaming down her face. Far worse - and far more painful for her medic - her skin sizzles and burns at random^[1]. But, still, Zarius holds through it^[2]. By the time he sets about folding a sling, the pen nib in the little halfling's jaws has broken in half.

But then, she's gone. She vanishes into thin air, just as she had in the store^[3]...

And then Zarius is sent sprawling onto the ground by the divine might^[1] of an otherwise meagre strike to his chest. It's a painful and highly foreign sensation, like the most grievous and penetrating of sunburns, and it creates a lingering sound that scratches roughly against the inside of his skull. With time, excrucia and noise subside as one, like dying lovers.

Veliky still cannot seen, but she can be heard. She's leaning against the wall with one arm, huffing furiously, but weakly. Only, it does not last, for, after some quiet, the rage gives way to sobbing. Tears fall and stain the ground, the only evidence of sorrow to the naked eye.

She's safe. Though the pain is not gone, she's no longer in threat of death, not until infection seizes her. But the euphoria is bathed in the glaring heat of judgement, like a golden field under a red sun. She feels the whisper of disappointment crawling into her brain.

"I hope you realize that you're a failure." The words float in the air like ominous clouds before soaking into the stone. "He could have killed you. Had he the intention, he would have. You owe your survival to luck. You disgrace me!"

"Maa awett... Maa'm soorey....
(I know... I'm sorry...)" Her Halfling words are barely more than murmurs, but the wall sends them back to her with perfect clarity.

"Apologize by breaking every one of those costumed mongrels!" She flinches and inhales sharply at the sound of his deafening voice. "No more weakness."

She sniffs through congestion. It's just like all those years ago. She couldn't help herself - she couldn't even fight against the help. She's just as pathetic as when she was a child.

"...Leh plu mim.
(...No more fear.)"

The presence fades, Raguel's spirit returning to the Inferno, from which it crept. Veliky's breath gradually steadies, as does her posture.

She appears to Zarius again. She's no longer sorrowful, and no longer enraged, but the evidence of both frailties remains on her face as flush and stains. Her head twitches, and the remaining tears turn to steam^[1].

"Thank you." Her tone has regained its natural indifference. "Never do that again. Come on."

A bitter glare is clear indication that she won't be wearing the sling.

---

At the very beginning of the month, the infamous haunted house of Warren Street sprang into existence from nowhere at all. It was an immediate sensation, visitors remarking about the immense talent and effort that was obviously placed into the attraction, especially the costumes. Now, the truth behind it has been revealed, making its dark façade all the more intimidating as it looms before Veliky and Zarius. It's quiet; and it's impossible to say what lies within. How many of the attackers from the Market made it back here? How many more had stayed beforehand?

Veliky's anxiety is clear upon her face - the pain from her arm makes it difficult to hide. But equally obvious is her resolve. She won't let childish terror stop her tonight. She lets in a long breath, then exhales.

"They won't be ready for a counterattack. Not from us. They'll be exhausted. So will I. But you won't."

She reaches into her coat and produces a bottle of brown-red liquid^[4] that glows faintly. Zarius recognizes it from the day they'd met.

"Drink this," she says, offering it up to him. "It'll bring your energy back."

She takes a step forward. Suddenly, a deep voice echoes from the front entrance, causing her to startle back.

"Welcome... Step forward, if you dare, into the sinister depths of the most terrifying experience of your life!"

The voice has no source, and nothing follows its reverberation.

"An illusion of some kind. Tacky, but clever; doubles as an alarm. Scrap the 'they won't be ready' part. Still, we have an advantage... except that the only entrances seem to be into the, well, 'haunted' portion of the building."

She obviously doesn't seem keen on this idea, herself.

"Don't cry too early," she mocks spitefully. "Come on. We can't waste any more time."

---

1. Angelic Light
2. Iron Grip (Zarius)
3. Invisibility
4. (Flask of Feijoada) Blixt™ Feijoada

Zarius guessed that Veliky would likely not make things easy for him, but he definitely did not expect what happened next. He doesn't even realize he’d been hit until his back smacks into the opposite wall of the alley. He winces and then feels the intense radiating heat from his chest. His head spins for a moment and his vision blurs. He feels incredibly nauseous as a wave of vertigo throws off his sense of direction.

This was a new terrible sensation he had never felt before. Magic just didn’t agree with him on a good day and this magic was exponentially more potent than anything he had experienced as of yet. It was frightening. He didn’t like that.

Once it subsides, he slowly pushes himself up and leans against the wall to catch his breath and slow his racing heart rate. Veliky was somewhere, he didn’t care. So long as she stayed the hell away from him with that damned magic of hers. He looks down at his hand which is trembling. Fear was not something he was used to dealing with, but he sure was feeling it now. Fear of this tiny unstable divine psycho and what she was capable if she became an enemy one day.

He looks at her when she reappears out of invisibility.

"Thank you. Never do that again.”

She didn’t have to say that. He had learned his lesson.

---

Zarius reluctantly takes the bottle. Despite Veliky’s unnecessary violence against him in the alley, he knows that if she had wanted to just kill him she wouldn’t do it via poison. Surely she could just smite him off this plane of existence with that ghastly divine energy living within her.

While he wasn’t thrilled about her not at least apologizing for what she did, he doesn’t argue and drinks the liquid. The contents go down smooth and its rejuvenating magic takes effect quickly. It didn’t do much for the cuts, bruises, and other injuries, but the fatigue that was building up in his muscles eases until it vanishes entirely.

“This does not have any side effects I should know about, does it?” He asks as he follows her through the creaky front doors of the haunted house.

The interior of the foyer is dark and quiet. Zarius’ eyes adjust to the dark and seem to faintly glow gold.^[1] Taking a cursory glance about he sees what otherwise would have been a lavish entranceway with sweeping staircases, a vaulted ceiling, and decor that would not be out of place in a Court noble’s mansion. He quietly scoffs as his father had similar taste in interior decoration as whoever this Mr. Game was. Well, except for the excessive amount of cobwebs, tattered wall hangings, and thick smell of mold and mildew.

As they step within the space, the front doors behind them slam closed suddenly. The sound echoes throughout the room. Zarius backtracks and gives the doors a shove. They wouldn’t budge. They were in the thick of things now and there was no turning back. Returning to Veliky, they press on.

Looking up, there is an ornate chandelier of dark clouded crystal hanging from the ceiling in the center of the gothic chamber. To either side, it feels like the figures depicted in the portraits hanging from the walls follow their passage with their dark eyes. A pair of roaring stone gargoyles flank the main staircase that leads up and back to a second floor landing with another set of ornate wooden doors.

Zarius moves carefully across the floor, half expecting there to be a trap door or some other trick to the room. They have a few options. They could chance the stairwell up to the second floor, or they could try either of the smaller doors to the left and right of the foyer.

He looks at Veliky. “What is your gut telling you?”

---

[1] Dark Vision. Spending much of your time in the shadows and darkness your eyes have become adjusted to seeing in the dark. This allows you to see normally in any amount of darkness as if it was day time. This only works in natural darkness and does not apply to magical darkness or spells.