Trickster stripped a chicken leg of its remaining meat, but kept the bone in his hand as he got up. Ru-lah was furious. Her red mohawk almost stood on end with angry energy as she rounded on the innkeeper.

“Rumbleton, what is this?”

The barkeeper looked crestfallen as he mumbled out, “There is a high bounty on two people meeting your descriptions. Your thief friend no less. There are a lot of people who want to get their hands on him. I needed the cash… Normally, I would not, but…”

“Shut up,” the younger man behind the bar suddenly screamed. “You wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t gone out and summoned the garrison troops! Trickster is worth a fortune! And we need the money!”

“Where's your hospitality,” Ru-lah spat.

“Don't worry about it, Ru,” Trickster grunted. “This is just my life. But we can take them.”

“We're already on nicknames?”

“Of course! We're team aren't we?”

Ru-lah smiled ruefully and shook her head. “If this were an actual game of D&D you would be the biggest pain in the patella.”

“That's what I do third best,” Trickster said with a wink.

The two put some distance between them, forcing the soldiers to spread out as they entered the inn. The other patrons also produced knives, swords, and axes of their own for the fight. Trickster saw one guy unsling a gun. He would want to keep an eye on that. Probably swipe it if he could.

Twenty troops took up their positions throughout the main room. Four guys hung back threw up three tables to make a barrier around the door. One had a short bow and the others had crossbows. That was going to be problematic.

Trickster quickly noticed how lopsided the formations were. More than half of the soldiers were gunning for him, as were nearly all the patrons. That made nearly thirty against him with maybe a dozen against Ru-lah. That meant that he was going to have to work more on dodging and evading than damage dealing.

“You see thirty nine soldiers and patrons turned foes surrounding you,” Rumbleton said. “Roll for initiative!”

“Really!? Not helping,” Ru-lah fumed.

“What do you mean?”

“This is how encounters begin in D&D, but usually they are not this lopsided! This is an almost impossible fight.”

“But we survived-”

“A video game, Trick! We survived a video game! This is something very different! This is meant to hurt us if we even survive!”

“Ray of sunshine you are,” Trickster snorted. “Think you can take in your guys?”

“No problem, but those archers are going to cause some problems.”

Trickster smiled widely. “Consider it solved!”

Trickster used his cloak to jump behind the archers. Once behind them he snagged the short bow and slammed it into the man's neck.

His survival roared to life and he instinctually swirled in his cloak to teleport right back onto the top of the bar.

There was a pain in his thigh. There was shallow cut. He glanced back and saw one man clawing at a quarrel in his shoulder. Two more archers filed in to back them up.

“We've got more men outside,” he shouted to his paladin friend.

“Got it,” the half orc-half elf shouted back as she beheaded a drunk patron with her sword.

“And with that roll, you take off his head Ru-lah, but you are still surrounded and they are closing in,” Rumbleton said. “Trickster, you're about to be beset by more than ten men. What are you going to do?”

Trickster wasn't sure what he thought about the play-by-play commentary, but he did know that standing where he was he would be shot and slashed to ribbons. Luckily, the Cloak of Transition gave him a special edge.

He made himself one with the wind. And he leapt into the middle of the oncoming soldiers. It worked just as he hoped it would. The men ended up hacking at each other with wild swings. But each blade passed through him.

Trickster burst through the group and four bolts and an arrow came right at him. They passed through harmlessly, just like the swords.

You couldn't hurt the wind.

Trickster knew that once he used this trump card his cloak would be ineffectual for a while. But that was okay with what he had in mind here. He ran right through the barrier, his effects finally running out.

He yanked out his sword and knife and slashed into the stunned archers. He then tossed himself back over the barrier as more twangs sounded. He heard screams and a death rattle. Rumbleton was saying something, but Trickster didn't register it.

He was very aware that he was now corporeal. Trickster angled his way towards Ru-lah , bringing all of the other assailants with him. The paladin had already felled six of her own opponents, but she was bleeding and not looking too great. He knew that if there was ever a time to roll the dice for some kind of luck, the time was now.

Trickster drew out the dice and tossed one.

“What do you want to do,” Rumbleton screamed over the din.

“I want to dance between these guys and cut them up. Kill them,” he said desperately.

“That’ll be two dice,” Rumbleton responded.

Trickster threw the second.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Rumbleton said, amused. “You dance through the enemy, your sword and knife spinning crazily. You lose you knife in one man’s eye, but no one can stop as you get going.”

“For how long,” Trickster found himself asking.

Rumbleton answered with, “30 seconds.”

Just enough, Trickster thought.

He launched right into the oncoming soldiers. He sheared two throats open with his blades. He then stabbed one man in the eye, and sure enough, it got lodged in there good. But it allowed him to swing with both hand to split another soldier’s chest wide open, even though he wore armor.

As Trickster literally disarmed another fellow, he plunged his sword into another soldier’s unarmored back. With both hands free, he threw healing potion to Rulah, yelling for her to catch. In the same moment, he swiped the gun from the drunken patron who turned against him. Using the man as a shield and getting him run through thrice, Trickster fired a shot into the captain’s face, dropping him. He pocketed the gun and drew out his sword.

He continued the dance, dropping five more men easily before he could feel his lucky running out. Trickster tore for the bar once more. He passed by six men on the ground in various stages of wounded. Those who had taken bolts or slashes from earlier.

Trickster managed to throw himself behind the shield of the bar before the crossbows sang and stuck quarrels in the bar and wall.

Rumbleton’s helped drew a knife and rushed for him, yelling. Trickster grabbed a bottle and flung it into the man’s face. It hit and the assistant stumbled. Trickster ran him through with his sword. Getting up, he angled the dying man’s body to be a shield.

And good thing, too, because an axe and sword went right for him. The assistant groaned as he died. Trickster knew he was cornered. There were still a lot of men left to fight, and even the wounded could still come at him. The initial shock of losing a limb or getting a slash would wear off as adrenaline and the will to survive and kill took hold.

The two men closest to Trickster were suddenly cloved in two.

Ru-lah had appeared. She still looked beaten up, but Trickster could tell the potion had helped her out. He opponents were all dead and mangled behind her. With the momentary distraction, Trickster took some glass cleaning clothes off the assistant’s dead body and rammed them into some nearby bottles. With a candle on the wall, he lit them. He managed to throw them right towards the archers.

Two of them got the message and dodged out of the way. The others got doused and were soon on fire. Ru-lah kept getting stronger as she swung her sword. The Sword of Heritage. It kept getting more powerful the more she killed. One of the patrons or soldiers must have had a magical weapon, because her sword started glowing with blue flames. They ate up any flesh they touched. Quickly!

Trickster leaped over the bar once more to go and help his friend. Even though they vastly outnumbered the two adventurers, the soldiers and the others quickly folded under their ferocity. They jumped through the windows and fled, leaving their wounded. Trickster went to the man whom he had stolen the gun from and raided him for bullets and powder. He also quickly stole a couple of purses and coin pouches for good measure.

Ru-lah was gathering up their own belongings as Rumbleton said, “Congratulations! You just solved my barroom brawl puzzle!”

“Say anything else other than what I want, and I will kill you,” the paladin snarled. “There are more soldiers out there! How do we escape!”

Rumbleton shook and grew pale. “There are three doors to the back. One just leads to the backyard, while the other two take you to other places.”

“Where,” Ru-lah interrogated.

“One takes you to the city, the other takes you to the witch.”

“Ru-lah, the soldiers outside are marshalling for another assault. When that dead kid there said he brought the garrison, he wasn’t kidding.”

“Just how much is your bounty worth,” Ru-lah asked, exasperated.

“Enough for some people to buy their way into nobility,” Trickster added.

“You are that player!”

“Come on, let’s go,” Trickster said, hurriedly. “We need to get out before they get in. I have only one dice left. And I think I just got really lucky!”

“Insanely lucky,” Rumbleton grumbled.

“What about this witch,” Ru-lah suddenly asked. “What is her deal?”

“She can cast any spell based on the deal you make with her,” the barkeeper answered. “That’s the best, quick answer I can give.”

“Then witch it is. Come on Trick!”

“Are you certain,” Trickster asked.

“Yes,” Ru-lah snapped. “Rumbleton, show us the door! Now!”