"You're sure you want to do this Sig?" Kreet whispered to her friend. "You don't have to."

Sigmundurr patted her head. "You keep your spells out of this and let old Sigmundurr have some fun."

"Where's your hammer, fat man?" Jake taunted when they were all back in the courtyard.

"Don't need it," Sigmundurr replied, turning away from Kreet and Kallid. "I suppose you still need that pigsticker though."

Jake laughed, unbuckled the scabbard and tossed his sword away. "Pig sticker? Sounds about right. Now come on, I haven't got all day."

Kreet noticed the archers were back on the roof. She looked to Avelyn, but he was watching the fighters from the porch. She decided she'd have to trust him to some extent. She sincerely hoped that trust wouldn't be misplaced.

And then the two crashed together. Immediately Sigmundurr butted his head against Jake's nose. The crack was audible around the courtyard and Jake staggered back.

But Sigmundurr was not one to wait for his opponent to assess the damage. He rammed Jake at top speed full in the stomach, hurtling both to the ground. Jake began to pommel the sides of Sigmundurr's head. In a few seconds it was obvious the blows were having an effect and Sigmundurr rolled away.

Jake was on his feet again before Sigmundurr rose, encircling the big man in a bear hug. Kreet could see the muscles on Jake's arms constrict, one arm around Sigmundurr's neck. But Sigmundurr didn't allow him time to complete the choke. Instead he rolled over, sending Jake over his back.

However Jake didn't stay down long enough for Sigmundurr to take advantage of it. He lashed out with a kick that sent Sigmundurr dazed and hunched over. As Jake closed in, SIgmundurr released a sudden, unexpected burst of speed and the two collided again - this time with Sigmundurr's head butting Jake just below the rib cage. His greater momentum carried Jake all the way to the wall of the next building, where the two came to a sudden stop.

Jake was obviously struggling, having lost his breath. Sigmundurr stepped back and began his own pummelling of Jake's face, now pinned against the wall. Jake managed to sidestep unexpectedly though, leaving Sigmundurr to punch a brick wall with his left fist. Kreet winced at the sound. The hand went limp as Jake spun Sigmundurr around, now pinning him against the wall.

But before he could get in the first retaliatory blow, Sigmundurr shoved his hand deep inside Jake's trousers.

Jake's eyes went wide. Kreet glanced to Avelyn again, not sure if this was somehow against any rules. But the cleric just winced. The archers too remained still.

Jake began to scream and tried to pull away, but Sigmundurr's left arm - broken hand or not - held him fast. His other hand closed around two very sensitive bits.

"Your cleric may heal you, Big Jake," Sigmundurr said between ragged breaths, "Even if I kill you, he'll probably revive you. But he won't be able to heal your memory, I wager."

The screaming began again and Jake lost all motor control. Sigmundurr let him fall to the ground, releasing his grip. The hand he retrieved from out of Jake's pants was bloody. He wiped his hand on the still-wailing Big Jake who was doubled over and rocking like a child.

"He's all yours, cleric," Sigmundurr said, spitting blood to one side.

Avelyn rose from his chair and walked to where Sigmundurr stood, defiant.

Suddenly Kreet realized that at this moment, all three of them were vulnerable. Sigmundurr may have won the fight with Jake, but he was in bad shape, and they were definitely in easy range of the archers. If Avelyn so chose...

Instead, he put his hand over Sigmundurr's ruined left hand. Kreet didn't fail to appreciate that he was healing Sigmundurr while his own man lay writhing in extreme agony only feet away.

"Avandra favors the bold," he said simply. "Now go, and watch the disintegration of your slum. Come to me again when you're ready for the Band to return. I've got other matters to attend to."

Kreet pulled at Sigmundurr. "Come on Sig. Let's get out of here before he changes his mind!"

Sigmundurr took one last look as the cleric knelt over Big Jake.

"My head hurts too, you know!" he called back, but Kallid grabbed his other hand and they pulled Sigmundurr out of the courtyard.

***********************

Back at the Baby Dragon, Sigmundurr was taking liberal doses of liquid pain killer while Marge tried to keep him still in order to try and clean some of his wounds. A nasty cut on his forehead was still weeping blood that trickled down to his nose.

"Ah, but you should have seen the other guy," Sigmundurr laughed.

Kreet peeled his shirt off. The bruises were just beginning to show. Oddly enough, his left hand - which had certainly been broken - now looked to be just about the only part that was completely unharmed.

"Thank you, Sig," Kallid said.

Everytime he spoke, Kreet winced in sympathetic pain. It sounded like he had ruined his vocal cords, and she was reminded again of the ordeal he must have gone through.

"Marge, you've got this. I'm taking Kallid out back to the bath."

The old lady nodded, but Sigmundurr grabbed Kallid's hand.

"Here," he said, handing Kallid the bottle of surprisingly good hard liquor. Marge had produced it when they'd returned.

Kallid smiled weakly and nodded to Sigmundurr, then proceeded to take a quite-healthy swig.

"Thanks, Sig," he croaked, handing the bottle back.

Kreet walked with Kallid out back. "I don't think that's good for your voice, Kallid," she said, but she realized that sometimes a little alcohol actually is a good medicine.

She stripped him down and had him stand over the rainwater downspout in the tub as she opened the spigot a little. She handed him a bar of Marge's lye soap, which he began to use vigorously. She looked away while he cleaned himself.

"That was stupid, coming to get me Kreet," he said over the splashing of the water. "Your babies are mine too, you know."

"And they'll need their father," she replied. "Don't talk too much. Your throat needs to heal. I'll set it right as soon as I can."

"Thanks," he said, and she heard a choked sobbing in his voice.

She turned off the water. Kallid was crying. She stepped into the tub, not bothering to remove her clothes. She sat with him in the bath and held him.

"You're okay now, Kally," she soothed.

"It's not that," Kallid whispered to the dripping of the water overhead. "I... just don't think anyone would ever have done that for me... before."

"Well, you've got me now."

Kallid turned to face her. "I do. Right?"

She kissed him, long and passionately. It wasn't a native kobold expression of love, but both had lived among non-kobolds long enough to appreciate it. His crying stopped.

Later they got out of the tub.

"I think we're going to need another towel," Kallid laughed, and he took her wet clothes off.

Instead they just shared the one. It was silly and ridiculous, but it did seem to lighten Kallid's mood.

"At least you didn't have to fight," Kallid said as Kreet took her turn with the towel.

"Um..." Kreet began, then thought better of it. "Yeah. So how are we going to go back in? You want to put your clothes back on?"

"No way. Burn them." Kallid snarled.

"You know, this towel isn't going to be big enough for both of us, and there are customers inside. Despite what you saw back in your bar, I'm not an exhibitionist! Well, except for you."

That made Kallid smile genuinely. "You take it and bring me back some new clothes, how about?"

She nodded and wrapped herself up.