This was not how this day was supposed to go. Thiferl marched his way up to the front of the line, shifting the weight of the dead slave as he went. You could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears. As he marched he muttered Dwarven curses under his breath. When he got up to the stranger he pointed his stubby finger at the man, and said, "Now you listen here youngin', there are rules here, and as it turns out we got here first. Now this group of people is under our protection, and we've come this far. Now you can either go back empty handed, or receive an equal share of our contract for delivering them. But there is no way on this sun forsaken earth that we are showing up empty handed." While he was chewing out the new comer he was untying the tanglefoot bag from his belt underneath the slave.

((OOC: held action, when the stranger moves to attack, Thiferl will activate the tanglefoot bag all over him.))

For a few moments everything seems to be silent... at a stand still... until Uthgar moves forward to break the silence.

The half-orc brings his swords before him threateningly with a fierce snarl meant to bring fear to the man before you.

In a burst of speed the man sprints towards Uthgar, and the snarl turns to a surprised grunt of pain (slashed for 4 hp damage).

Thiferl was not quite as surprised however. He flung a small pouch filled with a glue-like towards your speeding assailant as he charges past the half-orc and towards the rest of the group. The bag goes wide, missing the man entirely... or so you think until you notice that his right hand is now stuck to the hilt of a sheathed sword (which also happens to be stuck in the scabbard).

With a snarl of his own the man disengages and sprints off to the side to get clear of any other attack. He pauses a moment, as if considering his next move.

Meanwhile, Echo fades into the background, searching for an opportunity to be of use against this new, and blindingly fast, opponent. The slaves themselves are frightened at his appearance and begin to move backward towards the main street.

(OOC: Echo notices as he moves that several of them seem to recognize the man, naming him as the White Blade. Yeah for successful Perception checks!!! The others didn't postso they were pretty much paralyzed with fright at the sudden appearance of the main... or they were ooooing and ahhhhing at the whole running down the building thing... either ay they failed to act.)

Skit moved in quick, drawing his weapon to engage this new enemy. Need to stop him quick. Need to quiet him quicker. "Don't go, friend. You just got here!"

[OOC: If Skit can close the gap between himself and "White Blade", Skit will move into melee and attack. Not sure if he can make a called shot to the man's throat to try and sever his vocal cords? Maybe it's too hard to reach? Whatever you deem right...

If Skit cannot close into melee, he'll draw his dagger instead and toss the blade at White Blade, again called shot to the throat...

If called shot is not possible, then just a regular two-weapon attack... Thanks!]

Things went fast suddenly. Argent had his mind occupied with the guards at the gate, and figuring out the best way to evade them. He was still pondering about the situation when a new danger presented itself.

Himself.

This guy was fast! But Argent hadn't spent hours of training and aligning his body and mind to be caught of guard now. He quickly regained his composure, and was thankful for his ever watchful and quick witted brother.

As the man turned to flee, the monk took off and sprinted after him, in mid-run preparing for a precision punch.

(OOC: Going for the man and using stunning fist on him if he reaches him in time.)

Knowing stealth that stealth is imperative, the half-orc clenches his jaw at the stab dealt to him. A sort of blood-rage triggers, and now he wants to see the man paid in kind.
Taking off after the assaulter, the half-orc draws his remaining longsword and prepares to attack.
OOC: move and draw on the run + attack. OR Charge and draw on the run

Uthgar charges, drawing his last remaining weapon on the way. A slight smile appears in the eyes of the White Blade as the half-orc rushs in. With a surprisingly deft move the half-orc feints mid-charge to the man's side, where his hand is stuck to his scabbard, before lunging at his blade side. Despite his clever maneuver though, he is no match for the man's speed. He parries the longsword up high, and then spins around the orc kin, giving him an elbow in the ribs for his trouble (no damage, just for effect).

With the momentum from his spin the man keeps moving, blazing along the ground with lightning speed... and heading straight for Argent.

A dagger flies towards him from the side, aimed almost perfectly. But a lightning fast parry knocks the blade away, turning it from a lethal shot to a grazing slice across his shoulder.

The White Blade then reaches the monk, and seems to be everywhere at once. It is all Argent can do to simply keep up with the man's blindingly fast attacks. Slice after lightning quick slice are blocked at the writsts by the well trained monk. And after what seems like an eternity he sees his opening. With crystal clarity, born of years of training and meditation, he pulls his very being into his fists and lashes out at the man's chest striking the first solid blow against him. He stumbles back a step. slidding a bit further on the sand, his speed and momentum momentarily disrupted. But as he raises his head once more he speaks.

"Ah... a challenge. And here I was thinking this might be a waste of an afternoon."

Another flurry of attacks opens a number of small nicks on Argent's tough dwarven skin, but seems to do little real damage (3 hp damage total). But all the while he circles, placing Argent between himself and the rest of the group.

Echo, meanwhile, does his best to keep the slaves calm and together; succeeding for the most part.

From within the chaotic cover of the slave mob Echo begins the motions and chants necessary to cast Magic Missle, knowing that no amount of speed or parrying will be of much help to this "White Blade" as the slaves had called him.

((Not much going on here really, just casting the spell, all the while hoping that doing it from within the mob will prevent him from becoming a target to those fast strikes))

Daleel watched in frustration as his well placed projectile was deflected their foe. "Time to end this," he muttered under his breath.

Moving to manuever himself to the flank of this "White Blade", and drawing his own swords, Skit entered into melee. The little halfling looked to tag-team their foe with the distracting work of the broad dwarf.

[OOC: Two-Weapon Attack with both blades, trying flank/sneak attack White Blade.]

[

This White Blade was much too quick for Thiferl. He was glad his brother had spent so much time training. He cringes as his brother deflects blow after blow. But, Thiferl knew, where there was one, there were probably more. So he looked at the rooftops, he looked up and down the alley, into dark doorways, everywhere he could think. He did not want to be surprised at any new visitors.

The half-orc is trying to bring the anger under control, but to little success. He turns and runs towards his enemy, slightly pushing the unarmed dwarf that is in his way. With a snarl, he will bring down his sword on the cocky and noisy creature.

The anger of the half-orc is plain as he rushes in once again. The lightning quick attacks and parrys exchanged by the Blade and the dwarf are a blur before them. Just a moment before the orc-kin pushes past his monk fighting companion the Blade looks up and smiles.

Uthgar slashes down with his longsword, landing a grazing strike on the man's already stuck arm. But the shove he gave the dwarf has thrown off his rhythm, and opened his defenses. The White Blade's sword dives in biting deeply into the dwarf's side (6 hp damage).

Calm and serene despite his wounds Argent shifts, planting his feet firmly and strikes hard and fast, landing two solid blows, one on the man's leg and another square in his chest. The Blade loses the wind from his lungs, but recovers quickly. Yet that distraction enabled a small figure to move into position.

The sounds of battle are pierced by the sizzling of magic as two bolts of pure energy slam into the Blade, once again staggering him for an instant. But an instant was all Skit needed. He plunged one of his daggers deep into the man's ribs. The Blade screamed in pain and twisted himself, nawrrowly avoiding the second dagger aimed at his spine.

With his fine clothing quickly turning from white to red as the blood of himself and others began to saturate it, the White Blade once again disengaged from the fight.

Meanwhile, one the rooftops, Thiferl sees the movement of more... at least four (though he can't be sure), approaching from opposite the warehouse.

(OOC: The White Blade isn't looking very good. His general speed has slowed somewhat and he is bleeding from a number of wounds. Despite this he is currently still standing strong, moved so that his back is against a building.

He has no true alignment with the dwarf or the others, but right now he needs them. To this thought he snaps out of his rage and gives a solemn nod of the head, acknowledging his blunder on the Dwarf's half. He then decides that he should stand aside and assess the situation.

(Delay his action I guess...)

Weaving between the frightened slaves, Thiferl moves up next to the caster. Pointing up to the rooftop subtly, Thiferl whispers that they need to move these slaves while the White Blade is distracted. We might have more company soon, he says insistently. Then he starts making his way amongst the slaves whispering, we need to keep moving. And being persistent without being forceful.

Nodding that he understood Echo also began urging the slaves to move forward, time was of the utmost importance. Giving his best smile and his most sincere tone he assured the slave mob that they would be fine so long as they continued to move away from the conflict at hand.

Even as White Blade disengages, Daleel continues to press the swift warrior, looking to flank the man with Argent or the half-orc.

[OOC: Again, Skit's moving in to attack, trying to attack White Blade from one of his sides, preferably opposite of one of his team mates.

If I've misread, and White Blade is out of melee range, Skit will look to attack him with a tossed dagger.]