The moon hung low in the air causing shadows to be cast at odd angles and the sound of silence Nazagan expected to hear when he entered the town disappointed him, people littered the streets, drinking, taunting and ultimately brawling with eachother.

Nazagan made sure his cloak was well secured around his tall frame, a brown scarf of poor quality was wrapped around his face hiding all but his yellow eyes, the Ork didn't want to be noticed or bothered he wished only to see some form of civilisation again.
'How many years has it been now?'
Nazagan pondered to himself as he nervously checked to make sure his large sword was still at his back, shaking his head ruefully
'of course it's still there, the weight of the damned thing hasn't changed'.

Stepping through a small prong of people Nazagan felt himself get jostled around it wasn't until he let loose a snarl to deep for any human to pull off that the people gave him some room
'Silly.... i've brought attention to myself.'
cursing his impatience Nazagan drifted into the pub perching himself on a seat somewhere in the middle, he would have prefered to hide in the back somewhere but it seemed more populated in the dark corners then anywhere else.

re-arranging his cloak and scarf until his was comfortable that most of his thick red skin was hidden by fabric he ordered a drink but didn't touch it.

Where could you find a drunkard? Where else?
At a bar of course. And that's what Krythian was doing, like he did 24-7. It was in the morning when he came into the Pub. Soon, he found, in his right hand, a large tankard of ale. People were telling him to go home, but since his home was thousands of miles away from here, and he was wanted, he did not want to go home. So there, he sat, in a poorly made, sunken chair, drinking away.

He didn't know what time it was when the Pub became suddenly crowded. People; thieves, assasins, dealers, and even some drunkards like him, came bustling in. The waiters and waitresses shifted to more of the younger, flashier girls. He fought a little, punching a dealer before the crowd threw them both outside. Krythian continued to beat the dealer up, not noticing the large man, if he was a man in the first place, enter upon the pub.

When he came back in from the fight, the pub look like normal. He was in a transitioning mood, not fully awake but alert enough to want to drink more. He quickly sat down next to a large person, which was oddly wrapped in cloth. Must be some guy from the dessert. He asked for another tankard, returning the tankard he had already. The bar-tender shook his head, wondering what amount of alcholic levels the 27-year-old man could take. With money, which Kry mannage to scrounge up, tossed upon the counter, the tender reluctantly nodded and handed him another tankard. He gulped it down in 7 minutes and asked for more. People stared at him as he took another...
and another...
and another...

Soon he was laughing hysterically and started to shoo people away, staring them down with his glazed gaze.

Sabriel was sitting in one of the dark corners of the Pub observing everything in her sight. She almost finished her second beverage, while smoking thin cigar in very slow mood. Globs of smoke were covering her thin body and a bright face, making a perfect disguise. She was waiting for her target for 3 hours now. She didn't like odors in a pub, but her perfume helped the situation. Playing with silver coin in her left hand she waited and waited. One of the clumsy waiters dropped a tray with drinks right near her but it didn't draw attention to her because the noises in the pub were to loud anyways. She finished her drink and asked for another one. Tree drinks in one night was quite a lot for her but she knew when to stop. Target order she received two days ago was horrible, the description of the target wasn't clear at all. "But small challenge wouldn't hurt ..." she thought. Her poison dagger which she was hiding in the belt was cold, it disturbed her all evening.

It was certainly crowded in the pub, she thought of leaving, but her instincts "told" her to stay ...

Nazagan continued to sit quietly in the middle of the pub for awhile, the sounds that would be so common to anyother patron in the pub seemed somehow foreign to Nazagan, it had been along while since he had stepped foot in such a populated area.

Taking in a brief sniff of the pub Nazagan could pick up the smell of sweat, old alcohol, smoke and strangely a perfume. Glancing around in what he thought was a sly manuevor although he had never been anygood at subetly, his eyes landed on someone sitting in one of the dark corners, he couldn't make out much of the figure.

It was someones hysterical laughter that pulled Nazagans attention away from the figure and towards a heavily intoxicated person and caused Nazagan to carelessly knock over his full mug of mead.

Nazagan reached out in vain to try and catch the mug before it hit the ground but only managed to ruin his disguise, the scarf around his face fell, and his cloak spilled open reavealling his muscular thick red skin, and long sharp teeth that gutted from his mouth.

Nazagan did his best to cover himself up again in a panic, which unknowingly to him only drew more attention from the patrons in the rather crowded pub, Nazagan attempted to stand very slowly and make his way to the door, only to be confronted by three thieves with daggers aimed at his throat.
"Looky here an Orc in our city, what bounty do you suppose the local guard would provide for him?" one of the three dirty men spoke to the others. "Dunno, but a red one's gotta be worth alittle more, I haven't seen one of 'em before."

Nazagan looked around with the eyes of a frantic animal being backed into a corner and while he knew the language they spoke he found himself responding with a snarl making him seem more feral then what he truely was.

Sabriel noticed a very told stranger sitting in the middle of the bar, she couldn't see the face, but she certainly saw the yellow glowing eyes. He didn't match the targets description at all. Observing the stranger from safe distance, she finished her drink and a cigar, and was about to leave the pub.

All of a sudden yellow eyed stranger drops his drinks and reveilles his huge, red body. "An Orc?" - she thought "Haven't seen any of this kind for years." She raised from her sit, leaving a nice tip behind, when Orc attempted to stand very slowly and make his way to the door, only to be confronted by three thieves with daggers aimed at his throat.

"Looky here an Orc in our city, what bounty do you suppose the local guard would provide for him?" one of the three dirty men spoke to the others. "Dunno, but a red one's gotta be worth alittle more, I haven't seen one of 'em before."

She realized an Orc has backed up in her corner, that was obviously unplanned. She had to make a decision, any sharps moves would blow her identity and scare the possible target away, and standing there and watching person getting in an unfair fight wasn't matching her "Rules of Living". Only couple seconds to think, only couple seconds to decide ...

Krythian's hysterical laughing died down as the man next to him made a scrambling movement. He got a flash of red and turned sharply to face the man. He had an emotion of confusion. He looked around the room, to find all was very quiet. Something in the shadows caught his attention, but he thought his mind was playing tricks. He took another drink of beer and his vision was lapped in blurriness again. Suddenly, he felt warmness beside him. "Looky here an Orc in our city, what bounty do you suppose the local guard would provide for him?" he heard. "Dunno, but a red one's gotta be worth alittle more, I haven't seen one of 'em before." Thinking about the money he could make, the more drinks he could manage without stealing, he flung out his dagger and jabbed the first body of warmth. Little did he know that the one he jabbed was a thief, not the Orc. He heard a large yelp and Krythian smiled. He heard an angry voice and, in response to his actions, he was hit with a round of punches. The drunk grew angry and he let out a war-cry before flinging himself at the group of thieves.

Time was running out too fast, specially now. While she was thinking, a fat man out of the crowd jumped at stroked one of the thieves, she remembered that drunk man, he was the one who yelled the most most and probably drank the most. A moments ago he was shooing people around him, and acting as drank as hell, and now his moves where sharp and strong, an alcohol gave him mysterious powers. Time's up ...

Her decision was clear now, in less then a second Sabriel pulled out her poison dagger, and putted around Orc's throat. Bar became silent as giant Orc and puny woman moved back, even a thieves and fat drunkard were surprised. "Jump to the left and strike those two by the counter, just do it!" - she whispered to red beast. Those thieves were part of the gang, which Sabriel noticed was more then half of this pub, she could tell who is who, just by looking at their left hand, each member had little star tattoo on the fist.

Suddenly she started to feel Orc's warmth. Her reflexes became alert, her mind and body prepared to fight, another fight, fight to the death ...

Nazagan continued to snarl at the three thieves infront of him, his sword was at his back, there was no way he could reach and draw it before those three daggers were in his throat, he was quick but he knew his limits.

The orcs mind raced considering the options before him, how to remove three daggers from his throat before one managed to slit it open, Just as he was about to reach up and grab the men, the drunkard who caught his attention interfered, Nazagan knew it wasn't to help him. Nazagan didn't believe any human in their right mind would.

So as the drunkard preoccupied the thieves Nazagan was just about ready to draw his blade when another knife appeared at his throat, he was unsure who it may have been, until his nose picked up the scent of perfume it was stronger then before so it was a female behind him.

Nazagan had no more time to think as she began to step back the daggers edge forcing him to follow her slowly, when she to him to strike at the two near by Nazagan didn't hesitate.

Slipping out from the daggers reach Nazagan grabbed the two men by the back of their heads one hand for each of them and slammed them into the counter easily knocking them out.

He was now free to his own devices and wasted no more time pulling free his two handed sword and raising it to a ready position, the orc no longer appeared as clumsy as he might have when he knocked his drink over. He now appeared strong, confident and alert, he was in his comfort zone now, blade in hand and a fight about to begin.

He was still unsure whether the woman was trying to help him, or simply bag the prize of an Orc kill herself but against his judgement he placed himself next to her offering her his protection. He was sure that if she was out to kill him, he'd never know, her blade would be in him before he could react, but he felt he owed it to her.

Krythian looked around. He wasn't quite sure but he thought he saw two men on the ground. The other thief had ran away, careening over benches and out the door before anyone could react. The bar was still as silent as ever. He looked dumbfounded at the orc and the woman. Any possibilities? Thought his fuzzy mind. He smiled as he thought of one possibility, not thinking about what would happen in the end. "Say, boy!" he said, slurring most of his words. "You have yourself a pretty good catch. A human girl. She looks good too." He slipped out his dagger, took a glass of beer and guzzled it down, and pointed it waveringly at the man. "Say, you wouldn't mind if I slip this girl from you? She is, as I said again, a very nice catch!"

Seconds later Orc slipped out of her arms, crashing both man by the counter with mighty blow. She threw a dagger in one of the thieves forehead, she never missed, then leaping over three gang members, pulling out her dagger and slashing all man around her. In wild frenzy she accidentally made a little cut on Orcs back, with a smile on her face she said - "Sooorrry!" They were surrounded by many, but she had no fear. She leaped from table to table cutting anyone on her way, when she reached the doors she turned around, smiled at Orc and ran away ...


OOC : Kryt you totally screwed our story, it was me who got Orc not Orc who got me ...
I'm leaving but you free to chase me we can take this story outside.

Nazagan sidestepped a wild over head swing from a bouncer his club hitting nothing but the end of Nazagans long warriors tail, Nazagan then swiftly followed his dodge with a counter blow, the hilt of his sword and fist smashed into the side of the bouncers stomach causing the burly man to topple over gasping for breath.

He was trying to avoid killing anyone, he was not here to fight but if the brawl continued Nazagan knew two things would happen, the bloodlust he was currently fighting would become to much for him to supress and the guards would be well and truely on their way here by now.

Suddenly Nazagan felt something brush his back, it was to small and quick to be a large blade but he spun none-the-less just in time to see the woman dart past him he acknowledged the apologetic look from her in his mind as he calmly sidestepped a chair that had seemed to grow wings and fly at him.

Forcing his way towards the door of the pub with sword and fist trying his hardest not to kill anyone he began to feel an odd warmth on his back, he could not place the source of it but it was not a comforting warmth more like the warmth of infected skin.

Nazagan had no more time to think on it as another chair flew at him from across the room, this one however managed to hit him square in the chest causing him to stumble and consequently smash his arm into the door frame as he exited the pub.

Gingerly resheathing his surprisingly bloodless sword Nazagan glanced up and down the street hearing the footfalls of the city guard Nazagan bolted in the other direction, his cloak flapping behind him, causing shocked looks and gasps from the people in the street.

Ducking into an alley Nazagan wasted no time, quickly catching his breath and calming himself, he then went about covering himself again, pulling the cloak around him and replacing the sheath, the whole while wondering why the cut on his back was still so warm.

Riding away on stolen horse away from the pub with the gesture of happiness she was thinking about that night. Remembering how everything happened she noticed that she concentrated on every hit, each fallen foe must die, each strike must be critical, each hit but one. She cut red Orc on purpose, but releasing poison out wasn't in her plans. She nervously reached for dagger, slowly turning it around she saw it ... a thin tube inside of dagger was all empty, but one green drop. When did she pushed the button, how did it happen, she was concentrated on every hit but one. She forced her horse to stop and turn around to sprint out to opposite direction now. On her way back she tried to remember which poison did she use. "Eureka!" - she thought, The Red Lotus. She looked down and thought - "He is going to burn from inside ... " An antitode potion will not be easy to get, and victim only has 3 days until the end.

She raced to pub with great speed trying to find infected beast. Why did she care? Why not just left him dying? Why? She didn't know ...

Nazagan slumped down against the wall, his body failing him to hold him upright so he slid slowly down the wall until his buttocks hit the ground, why was he in so much pain over a small cut? he wondered.

It was then that he considered the female for the first time. Nazagan weighed out her movements in the pub, her figure and her weapon and before long the gears started turning in Nazagans head.

"Posion!" Nazagan bellowed in rage the anger causing his blood to boil helping him forget about the pain he was feeling, and his need for quiet at the moment lest he draw more attention upon himself.

"Sneaky little hobgoblin!" Nazagan continued to rant as people up in the nearby street glanced down the alley in curious alarm at the not quite human voice although many shrugged him off as a poor gambler who'd lost it all.

She found him struggling on the street, it looked painful. She casted a spell making giant Orc falling asleep, she ordered two man to grab him and squeeze into cabin she which she stop moment ago. of course she could turned into her demon form and raise monster with ease, but she didn't want to attract attention. She paid the man and ordered driver - "To the forest!"

Half our later they were there alone, orc was still sleeping she pulled him out and dropped him gently under the tree. "Wake up sleepy!" - she knew a moment he will wake up she will probably be in great danger, so she prepared herself to run.

The last thing he saw as his vision blurred in the familar way telling him sleep was about to befall him, was the girl, the same one that had posioned him. At least Nazagan thought that was what he saw, he was angry at the time, perhaps he just imagined it. . .

As they travelled out to the forest Nazagan stirred alittle from time to time, the burning of the wound causing him to snarl quietly as he slumbered, no matter how much he believed his people were not savage monsters, it would have been hard to persuade anyone that saw him like this, his large frame still except for the slow breaths and occasional snarl, one might likened him very much to a dragon sleeping in its lair.

Once they stopped. Nazagan heard a voice stirring him awake, blinking quickly and glancing around with the disorientation of a drunk roused from his slumber the next morning.

Nazagans eyes finally settled upon Sabriel and the Orc tilted his head appearing rather calm considering he had just been posioned and kidnapped in one day by the same person.

Offering a smile briefly before the anger flashed in his eyes again, and his hands shot out like a snake attempting to catch the girl so he could get the answers he needed.

She was prepared to run, but as an Orc woke up, she didn't move, letting him grab her. She knew Orc wouldn't hurt her, but letting monster catch her was stupid. Waiting for her judgment she struggled in his arms. The poison had spread further, as she saw Orc closing his eyes in pain. She was cruel but an Orc seemed like a close friend to her, perhaps she saw something familiar in him, a darkness maybe ... or maybe she just had too much too drink that same night.

The only sounds in the forest were those of the trees rustling in the slight breeze, the quick breathing of a red Orc, and the struggling of a woman in his grasp. The anger in Nazagans glowing yellow eyes was sharp and clear.

His free hand seemed to reach out of it's own accord slowly moving towards Sabriels neck, crush her.... close her wind-pipe and let her die as slowly as you will. Nazagan thought to himself.

However his hand stopped mere centimetres short of her neck, the anger slowly dissipating from his eyes as he fought the bloodlust, the pain from the posion making it harder then normal, finally he looked upon Sabriel with a clear mind.

While his hand remained close to her neck he seemed to be making no more moves indicating he was going to harm her. "Listen careful girl. . . I try hard not to kill, But you need to give me antidote, or I will make your death as painful as mine will be."

"Ookh ... Cough ... Cough ..." - she replied in pain. As Orc released her, she pulled out her katana and pushed it towards monster's neck. "Never, touch me, like this, again!" Putting her Katana back on her waste, she turned around and started whispering spell. "See-uf-mee-too ... See-koo-zee-ma ... Zurook!"- as she finished pointing finger at Orc she asked him to turn around, he did. Releasing dark energy into his wound she said - "This is 'Dark regeneration' an ancient spell that must heal evil aligned creatures, I'm not sure if it will help you, but it worth a try ..." She pulled back her hand slowly. "My cave is not far from here, follow me if you want to leave!"