Winifred had readied herself for the fight before Zach had even tossed the bloody dagger. She’d gotten herself into the perfect fighting stance, eyeing one of the thugs who would dare to try and take her down. The brawler had been working with the Halfling long enough to know that any kind of negotiations that he involved himself with, usually ended with violence.

As soon as Sykes had called Zacharias a ‘Half-man’, she knew it was all going to go South. Thankfully for her, once the melee had started, the nearest thug was still staring, slack-jawed at the Halfling. Breaking the guy’s neck had almost been child’s play.

She quickly slipped on her new brass knuckles and stepped forward eagerly, challenging the next of the idiots to try and take her on. At first, she'd been somewhat disappointed when her prize for surviving the illusion had been the weapons. Personally, she tended to prefer the use of her kicks or her sharp elbows to get the job done. But that was before she’d realized there was some kind of enchantment on them. Slipping them on while she’d explored the fake loot room, she’d felt a wave of power course through her. Not just any power…incredible speed. She’d been itching to try them out since then.

Thus, it was with near feral glee that she siphoned off a sliver of her Core’s Mana and thread it into the artifact on her fists. She spied the next thug that was approaching for an attack. Crossing the ten paces between them in a sudden blur, she had just a second to see the look of surprise on his face before her right hook smashed his nose inwards.

Ducking under his pathetic attempt to ward her off with his club, she stepped further into his personal space in an instant, stamping down on his foot to keep him in place. The poor sap started to fall so she quickly grabbed him by his shocked face and slammed his thick head into the cobblestone floor. She had to admit, she took pleasure in the audible crack of his skull that followed.

Winifred could feel her blood beginning to boil, Mana slowly drifting through her as she launched herself at the next goon. This one threw up a defensive position long before she reached him, obviously learning from his fallen comrade’s mistake.

Still, from the way, he was holding himself, and his overly tight grip on his club, the pit fighter could tell he was an amateur. So she threw an obvious feint to the left, baiting out a hasty attempt to parry, before diverting her weight and putting it into a body blow on the right side of her opponent's gut.

Annoyingly, the thug collapsed into a pile of his own vomit from the one hit. Maybe this won’t be that fun, Winifred sighed, turning to the next opponent just in time to catch a flicker of light approaching her.

She threw herself to the side, hearing the crossbow bolt clamor against the cobblestone, and growled softly. Rolling to her feet, the brunette cast a look behind her and watched Skrakch pounce on her assailant on top of the mausoleum. Trusting someone to watch her back never sat right with her, but it wasn't like she was capable of scampering around atop the rooftops like the Ratling was. So she'd trust the varmint to handle the scouts, and focus on what she did best.

Grunting softly, she started making her way to Sykes, watching the crime boss toss spell after spell at Zach as he ducked and weaved through shards of sharpened ice. Thankfully Sykes was leaking blood from a dozen fresh wounds as Zacharias returned fire with his throwing knifes, so she doubted the Elf was on his A-game.

Rushing the last few paces, Winifred tried to imbue her weapons once more, hoping to activate the effect. Sadly, the magic item seemed to have limits on how often she could activate them, so she resorted to bull-rushing him the good ol’fashioned way.

As she neared Sykes from the rear, Winifred decided to end this fight swiftly as well. Launching into a flying kick, she got within a single paces distance before colliding with some unseen force. A barrier of shimmering light flashed into existence, and just as quickly shattered against her approach.

Unfortunately, the strength of the attack was spent, so she was forced to land, before lashing out with a simple sidekick. The distracted caster still hadn’t looked behind him, as preoccupied as he was, and so it was surprising when her blow was blocked once more.

This time, however, the blow had been blocked by Sykes’ shadow, or rather, blocked by a rapidly emerging figure within the crime boss's shadow. Lanky and gaunt, the figure looked rather like a ghoul, if it wasn’t for the hide armor covering most of his body.

Between his clawed fingers, and the look of raw bloodlust on his face, Winifred immediately recognized a professional. The man had his lower face masked, but he moved with the grace of a trained killer.

Throwing Winifred back with a shove of his hand, the figure wasted no time in chasing after her, throwing a fast left jab at her face, while blocking with his right.

Parrying the blow, Winifred pushed the jab from the inside, letting it harmlessly pass within centimeters of her face. Meeting her opponent in close range, she too began to throw jabs, left, right, and center, all trying to open up his guard.

The shadowy figure moved with a feline grace that belied his misshapen features, blocking or dodging each blow while answering with his own. Eventually, after multiple exchanged attacks, the newly arrived fighter managed to land a blow across Winifred’s cheek.

Reeling back, Winifred spat out some blood and a tooth, before taking a more aggressive stance. “Finally, someone who appreciates a good brawl!”

Skrakch hadn’t at all been surprised that Zacharias had ended up tossing a dagger at Sykes. What had surprised him was just how long the Halfling had been able to keep his cool. It must have been some kind of record.

Zacharias talked a mean game but the cold-hearted bastard didn’t take kindly to being under anyone’s thumb, so he’d always been quick to set someone right, particularly with violence. And that was why Skrakch had taken the time while he and Sykes were doing their little back and forth to fully plan his moves once the fighting began.

A quick glance around the graveyard had revealed too many thugs on the ground for him to want to mess with. That was obviously going to be Winifred and Ornn’s department. His skills were much better used by taking out the crossbow-wielding scouts.

Thankfully, he had just the trick to take care of the first few that he knew were above him. The top of the Mausoleum was just too good of a vantage point not to have placed men on and Sykes wasn’t one to waste an advantage.

Scrambling over to one of the ornamental columns of the mausoleum, Skrakch turned his Mana sight inwards, picturing his Core brimming with power. Pulling the Mana out was a simple task, and so was filling the Gravity rune in the space of a moment. Inscribing it on his chest, the Ratling inverted his own gravity, before launching himself upwards.

Claws gripping onto the marble rooftop, Skrakch quickly cleared the top of the building, just in time to see a crossbow pointed at his face. Cutting the Mana to his rune, he managed to fall prone against the smooth marble roof, just as the bolt shot forth and sailed over his head by mere centimetres.

Rolling to the side in case the thug had a repeating crossbow, Skrakch grinned as he watched the Human fumble with his weapon's drawstring, before throwing himself bodily towards the doomed man. Eyes widening in terror, the thug tried, with little success, to throw himself to safety before Skrakch’s claws raked him from belly to sternum, his blood and entrails splashing hotly against the rooftop.

Sliding his claws across the thug’s neck to make sure that he was well and truly dead, Skrakch turned to see another crossbowman on the roof in the midst of firing a bolt towards Winifred. Scowling to himself, the irate Ratling lunged forwards, biting down on the man’s neck in a spray of blood.

Ripping a chunk of flesh loose, Skrakch spat it to the side. While the flowing blood didn’t taste too bad, the unwashed flesh of Humans didn’t do wonders for his palate. Still, the Ratling had to admit it was nice to be facing off against living foes for once. Skrakch had tried biting a Ghoul once in desperation,.. and very much did not recommend the taste.

Peering off the roof, he watched as Winifred mercilessly pounded one of the thugs into his next life, and he couldn’t help but shudder. Maybe he ought to piss her off less, Skrakch mused as he grabbed a crossbow. Or maybe he just needed to make sure she’s not in a violent mood, he reckoned.

Drawing back the drawstring until he heard it click into place, the Ratling scanned for other scouts hiding amongst the courtyard. From the sounds of cobblestone being shattered before him, he could tell that Ornn had entered the fray, no doubt crushing anything in his path.

But it wasn’t until a light glimmered on a nearby building that Skrakch readied the crossbow. Aiming for the scout hidden amongst the smaller mausoleum parapets, he stilled his breath for a moment, before letting the bolt fly… and watched as the bolt careened harmlessly off into the distance.

Tossing the useless piece of wood to the side, Skrakch cursed whoever invented the crossbow, and cursed their mother for good measure. The unwieldy things never seemed to work properly, or at least, they never seemed to work when he was the one firing it.

How to safely cross the distance between the buildings then, he thought to himself as he watched another bolt sail out into the chaotic melee. It was an interesting conundrum that he swiftly solved the simplest way. After quickly sizing up the distance, Skrakch was almost certainly confident he could make the leap the distance, with the aid of his magic of course.

Turning his gaze inwards, he noted his Core was still mostly full. Once more imbuing himself with a Gravity rune, the blood-spattered Ratling flung himself off the roof, attempting to jump the distance.

Taking off with a burst of weightless speed, he managed to gracefully make it almost halfway between the two opposing buildings before he started to feel the strain of the rune depleting.

As lovely as the feeling of displaced air rushing past him was, he couldn’t help but focus more on the imminent drop to the courtyard further below him than he’d expected. Almost as if the Ratling had once more leaped before thinking about the consequences.

As the last of the rune’s Mana petered out, gravity reasserted itself with a vengeance. Twirling about headfirst, Skrakch immediately set about righting himself, orientating his feet towards the rapidly approaching ground.

Squeaking with fear, Skrakch quickly activated the Featherfall runes he always kept charged on his leather footwear, the rune soaking up his Mana hungrily.

As his dead drop became a gentle glide, Skrakch was quick to move onto part two of his master plan to handle the last of Sykes' scouts. Pulling his newly acquired Scepter of Fireballs loose, Skrakch deftly pointed it where he last saw the ranged foe.

With a twist of his will, and a dollop of Mana, the runes covering the scepter lit up as fire began to pool at its tip. Letting out a wild laugh, Skrakch let loose the Fireball, the magical flames shining spectacularly as it smashed into the building in a crescendo of fire.

Not that Skrakch had time to notice, as the kickback from utilizing the scepter flung him in a backward spiral. Sent massively off course, the Ratling could barely make heads or tails of what was happening as the ground and sky repeatedly switched places on his view, his stomach churning all the while.

In a mercifully short amount of time, Skrakch crash-landed against the cobblestone, smashing his unprotected head against the ground and promptly passing out in a crumpled heap.