Open Chronicles There Was this Guy. At the Market.

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Violetta Amrita Primrose

Valkyrie Unhinged
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Violetta didn't particularly care for Vel Anir. But the place knew how to sharpen her sword a lot better than she did. She could do it, of course, she just didn't have the time today. And, since she was here getting errands taken care of anyways, figured she may as well get this done.

Granted, she wasn't a huge fan of not having it on her. Made her feel more naked than when her clothes were on the floor.

She wandered the market area of the town looking for a bite while her sword got settled when she started to overhear a man talking. There was a lot of chatter around her so she couldn't depict most of it. It sounded almost religious. And when she turned to see him, he had his finger pointed in the face of a crying young boy.

Violetta tilted her head and walked closer to the situation unfolding in front of her eyes as the sound around her began to fade. She could still not make out whole sentences from the man, but she did make out words.

Filthy.

Ungrateful.

Pathetic.

A couple of the things the man was screaming in the face of an actual child. Whatever had led the man to this kind of action, Violetta didn't give a shit.

"Oi, weak chin." Violetta spat at the back of the bald man's head. He stood up quickly and turned to look at her. Where, in Violetta fashion, she grabbed the man by the collar of his robe and slammed her forehead into the bridge of his nose. The audible crunch made the kid turn to run and many faces turn to look straight at her. The monk-type hit the floor and was screaming bloody murder over the whole thing.

"Pick on someone yer' own size, cunt."
 
Kallach merely appeared mildly interested as he studied the goods. One of the ornately designed daggers was lacking, so he weighed it in the palm of his hand. The hilt was extremely heavy and overly embellished with precious stones of various hues.



He hummed in contemplation, "Hmm..." drawing the merchant's puzzled attention. The man frowned glumly as his eyebrows came together. He was assessing Kallach's propensity to purchase the decorative item.



"Well, functionality aside, what you've got here should have cost a small fortune assuming the stones are the true deal, yet..."



The merchant responded, his tolerance waning under Kallach's fussiness, with "But?"

"I have no need for it."



"Then you've wasted my time, good sir. I'd prefer it if you made yourself scarce from my shop. Others are looking to purchase items, and I have little time for idle chit-chatting. "



"Ah, suit yourself."

"Have a good one, mister."


Kallach gave a shrug and turned to walk away. He took no more than a couple steps outside the store before a small child sped past him.

Kallach was startled by the terrified child and almost dropped the cup of spiced wine he was holding.

He observed the youngster running away and took note of his diminutive size, odd gait and slightly coltish extremities.

If it weren't for the faint wailing that filled his ears, Kallach would have followed him. He could roughly gauge the distance because it was audible, but it seemed almost... muffled?


With a small frown of his own, he darted down the street and turned the corner. What he saw next consisted of a flailing, bloodied man who yelled curses at the top of his lungs, and a horned woman looming over him like the shadow of death.


When the stranger's withered face appeared in Kallach's field of vision, the latter clearly winced. His nose was squashed and bleeding profusely. The stranger attempted to speak but almost choked on his own blood in the process.

He finally managed to croak out after swallowing the saliva and blood mixture that was cluttering his throat "H-Help! Help, she's trying to kill me!"

The man scrambled to his feet like a drowning rat and moved hesitantly in Kallach's direction.



Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
Violetta listened to the chatter of the crowd around her spewing whispers of fear. She could only roll her eyes. How was she the only person in this crowd of hundreds who'd seen what that man had been doing? Or did just none of them care? Either way, it was now turning into a bigger deal than necessary. He'd gotten his lick! It was even!

She turned slowly with her hands stuffed into her star-covered overalls. A head tilted towards the man who was scrambling at the feet of another. The man he'd crawled to was large. His blue eyes looked stoically at the scenario befalling him and she knew she'd have to make an explanation.

"She's a madwoman! Driven by devils! L-look at her horns!"

She could only throw her hands upward in disbelief. She looked at Kallach with an expression of confusion.

"Get a load o' this guy, would ya? Picks on children then clamors for the feet of the biggest guy around. It was a fuckin' love tap at best. And straight on! It'll heal th'same way."

Kallach
 
"Hm, sure. Her horns are indeed peculiar."

Kallach's gaze was steady as he evaluated the circumstance. It seems like he wouldn't need to move a finger.

The other man attempted to seize Kallach and put his hands on him. Kallach evaded the assault by stepping aside. Now that he understood the truth, he was more worried about the condition of his baggy clothing than the stranger's bleeding nose.

"You weren't going to kill him, were you?"

Kallach questioned while running his gaze up and down the woman's form. She was easy on the eyes, to put it mildly.

"You bastard! You demon-loving whoreson!"

The bald man had started to howl. His cheeks turned redder by the second as he sulked and grumbled.

From his cossack, the bald man produced a little, pointed object. His knuckles grew white from holding the thing so firmly.

Kallach gave it a quick glance before squinting.

"A knife?" he cocked an eyebrow. It was almost insulting that someone would come at him with such a puny implement.

The man then experienced the heel of Kallach's boot burrowing itself into his ribs, lifting him off the ground and sending him sprawling onto his back.

No one even bothered to approach the downed man; instead, everyone just stared. He was no longer even slightly moving. The steady rising and falling of his chest was the sole sign that he was still alive.

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
Her irritation turned swiftly to a smile as the young man's eyes did their wandering. She was gorgeous, and she fucking knew it. It was too bad that it was cut short by the shrill little lamb that decided his best course of action was to put himself into deeper shit.

The kick was... Awesome. No other way to put it. Clean, not too fancy, and hit like a golem.

She tried to stifle it. She really did! Violetta knew it would be in poor taste. But the guy deserved it.

So, she laughed.

She laughed her heart out. Not a cute chuckle, either. A snorting, raspy laugh. The kind that sucks the life from your lungs when you let it go for too long. Gods it was just too fun to watch people act like jerks and then get their heads rolled for it.

The horned woman moseyed over to the side of the young man and looked up to him from her periphery.

"Quite a blow. Don't imagine he'll be walkin' fer a day er two."

Kallach
 
"I imagine so. I'm, ah, not good at controlling my output."

"It's a miracle I hadn't killed him accidentally."

A member of the crowd cast him a critical look. In answer, Kallach snorted and turned his back on the crowd of bystanders that was quickly expanding.



He swung his head to face her. Kallach was a good bit taller than her. Although, the horned lady was by no means short, not by female standards at least.

He was attractive in many respects, but his attire was in stark contrast to his body. A man with Kallach's brawn might be expected to wear something less... vibrant? But he did a good job of flashing his colors. His tunic was a patchwork of different shades of blue and green, with a vast flowery pattern running through it.

His two-piece outfit's top was undone, partially exposing his pale, sculpted chest. In between the cloth flaps, a tiny tuft of hair protruded in an almost comical way.

He ran the tip of his index finger along the length of one of her curved horns, feeling the grooves brush against his calloused skin.


My, you are not at all subtle.

"Now that we've dispelled the unpleasantness, may I know your name?"

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
He sure was a brave one, wasn't he? Making such a bold move like that. She gently gripped his finger and moved it slightly away with a wry smile.

"Must be used t'charmin' ladies with your good looks if yer gonna try that one right away."

She turned away from him and motioned with her head for him to follow.

"Violetta. Care to join me while I find somethin' t'eat?"

Kallach
 
"Miss Violetta, you've got a charming name."

When she grabbed his finger, he grinned awkwardly. Kallach gave her another glance and couldn't help but notice her skin's peculiar shade, which sat somewhere between purple and grey.

"I'm Kallach, Kallach Hilbod," he said.

Kallach almost failed to notice that his other hand was still occupied with a cup of spiced wine. He placed the half-full container to his lips and took a sip. The fiery concoction eddies eddies down his dry gullet. He detected the tang of various spices, primarily sage, cinnamon, and cloves.

He then held out the metal cup to her with the intent of handing over whatever little liquid remained.


"And charm you? Ha! I was merely taking note of your unusually large horns."



"I've seen a handful of tieflings in my life, but none had such pronounced features as you. And if breaking bread means I'll get to know you better, then I'm all up for it."


His own empty stomach grumbled, churning in a brief cacophony of unpleasant sounds. Kallach immediately craned his neck, so Violetta couldn't see the burning streak running across his pale cheeks.

Gods damn me! I should've eaten something before going out...

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
She turned her head to look at the extended goblet. A wave of the hand to show she was okay without the wine. But a silent thank you to show her appreciation at the gesture.

“Ah yes. The horns. Always a topic o’ conversation. Seems that m’kind are a rarity in the cities. Kallach,” She said as she pointed to a nearby tavern.

“Do you think me devilkin for having them?”

She would pause there in front of the taverns swinging doors. Looking to him to answer her question before they proceeded. It wasn’t common that someone thought her a monster, but, it had already happened once today. May as well get it out of the way.

Kallach
 
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His eyes grew softer. Did she really believe she was a monster? Had she been persuaded of this by someone? Or did she just want to put him to the test?

Kallach decided on the third alternative. He absentmindedly looked up at the sky while clicking his tongue. In rhythm with Kallach's thoughts, the puffy clouds that decorated the skies above slowly crept over the sprawling blue vault.

He looked at them curiously, wishing he could reach out and grab one like a fistful of cotton.

"Yes and no."

"On the one hand, it is true that tieflings are descended from ancient demons, fiends, and gods."


"However, you have been given the gift of freedom of thinking, just like the majority of people. As a result, you have a choice as to whether you will be good, bad, or somewhere in between."


"And, in all honesty, things are rarely that simple. Seldom are people wholly pure in either good or evil. Each of us is a different shade of grey. a few lighter and a few darker."

Kallach put a finger to his lips and hummed. His long, prominent eyelashes fluttered as he closed his boyish eyes.

He suddenly possessed a small boy's face, which mashed oddly with his intimidating stature, broad shoulders, and hairy chest.

"I must be ranting, don't I? I occasionally get into a conversation about something and lose track of what I was talking about."


Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
She crossed her arms and upturned an eyebrow while he spoke. He had a good deal to say. That wasn’t inherently a bad thing but it gave the young man a much larger margin for error. His face near the end betrayed his youth; he still showed a mental maturity in her words that she appreciated and didn’t find very often.

In the end, she smiled.

“Don’t go apologizin’ for your own truth, Kallach. I appreciate the honesty in your words. You don’t get that outta many people these days. Come. Let’s have lunch.”

She‘d turn then to enter the tavern with him in tow. The place was just as loud if not more so than outside. A midday revelry was something she could definitely get behind.

Violetta turned her head once more to look at the tall friend she’d made,

”You good with that wine er you want somethi’ that’ll kick in yer teeth?”

Kallach
 
Kallach threw open the door and entered. Several scents, including those of food, smoke, alcohol, and other things, hit him right away. He took a breath of luxurious air. Despite its richness, it wasn't horrible. He found the whole aroma quite likable.




His eyes flew from side to side as he scanned the tavern's interior. It wasn't in any way a rundown area, nor was it overly decorated. He imagined it as the kind of location that drew members of the middle class, as well as workers, artisans, small-town business owners, and the occasional bard or two.

And his analysis wasn't incorrect. Just as Kallach and Violetta had entered, trays holding food and beverages were being served throughout the premises.


There were a variety of delicious yet straightforward dishes, usually made of roasted vegetables and different types of meat. He selected a few curiosities from the bunch, such as freshwater fish and prawns that were occasionally taken out by top-heavy barmaids.

He said absentmindedly, pulling up a chair for her, "I'm in the habit of disarming people with my raw honesty and straightforwardness, Violetta."

"People become more pliable as a result, which is frequently to my advantage, especially when I need something from them."


He crossed his legs and sat down. To get the attention of one of the serving women, Kallach waved at her. After making sure she had seen him he resumed talking.


"As for the drinks..."



"I heard that Anirians make some damn fine plum distillate. Been meaning to try it for a while now. "

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
She herself sat down rather casually. Throwing one arm around the head of the chair with another silent thanks to the hulking man. His words were spoken very prettily, but the things he said were a bit concerning. She could address it after she ordered.

Her eyes flew towards the busty barmaid and she shot her a warm smile upon her approach.

“Can I help the two of you?”

“Ah, please. Could you bring me two glasses of whiskey, iced. And uhh what was it you said?”


She pointed at Kallach and snapped her fingers.

“Plum distillate!” She said a bit loudly. Whatever that was. The barmaid looked at her a bit confused as well.

“…do you mean the plum vodka?”

Violetta threw her hands up like she didn’t know.

“Sure, a round o’ shots o‘ that, if ya would.”

The barmaid nodded and tried to hide her blushing face from Kallach as she walked away. Violetta then turned back to her impromptu companion.

”Girl seems sweet on you.” She said in reference to the blushing barmaid.

“You said somethin’ though.“ She leaned forward into the table and scooted her chair forward with a loud scraping sound. Some patrons eyes flickered her way when she made the obnoxious noise.

“You think honesty makes people pliable. Is that what you’re aiming for? You have to know there’s more t’life than just tradin’ favors for favors.“

Kallach
 
He gave the barmaid a quick glance, winked at her, and nodded her off.

He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until Violetta's abrupt question forced him to do so. The sigh that escaped Kallach's thin lips was soft and gentle, almost being drowned out by the din of the customers. It resembled a light spring breeze.

He murmured into his chin, pressing his hands against the wooden table, "Favor is such an ugly way to put it."

It was an old thing, riddled with several scratches, gauges, and other superficial deformities.

Kallach selected a splinter about the size of a toothpick and rolled it between his thumb and index finger.

"It's a precautionary measure. I travel a lot due to my occupation, and in my travels I've met people from all walks of life. "


"They've taught me valuable things. Like how to guard myself against those who wish me no good and to take what I'm told with a grain of salt."


After an awkward moment, the corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek, dimpling it slightly. There was a sense of mischief in this new expression, somewhere between a smirk and a genuine smile.

"What'd you think if I told you that it's your company that I want and not a favor?"

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
She considered this a moment. He was smart. Maybe too much for his own good but all in all a very intelligent man. He seemed to see things as they were and without a rose colored lens. There was admittedly something she envied about this. As she herself, despite her aggressive nature, still often looked at things in an attempt to find meaning in them.

When, in reality, most things just were.

Her brown sandals clattered against the leg of her chair. An annoyance that went unheard due to the cacophony surrounding them. Voices raising up and down in volume as people deflated and got excited over stories and drink.

And she smiled at him. His last sentence being relatively smooth.

“The way you look at things. I like it. I’m unsurprised by your honesty now, it feels as if that’s the only way you could be. What an intriguing man you are.” Her smile lingered as she panned her eyes across the room to catch glimpses of the other conversations happening.

“For the record, Kallach.” Her eyebrows rose. “My presence alone is a favor.” She said in complete arrogance.

Kallach
 
Around the two of them, there was a lot of activity.

People conversed. They quarreled, quarreled some more, swapped tales, and talked about numerous things. As if a satellite dish, Kallach's ears perked up and began to reel in information.

His attention was drawn to a woman speaking strangely about the dreadlords. Because so many other voices were interjecting, he wasn't exactly able to understand what she said. He was aware that she was arguing with a number of individuals, or possibly with a number of individuals who were all disputing with one another.

It has to do with how the academy abused children and young people. Kallach discovered that he wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.

'Merely being here is a favor,'

"Sure is," he deflected, countering her statement with a verbal jab.

"I seldom encounter intriguing ladies such as yourself," he paused and chuckled, "especially ones that also happen to be my seniors."

The arriving barmaid interrupted the two of them before Violetta had a chance to respond.
The girl was stealthy and quiet as she silently made her way through the crowd without anyone noticing her. Her large bosom tantalizedly jiggled as she bent over the table to offer them their respectful beverages; vodka for Kallach and Whiskey for Violetta.

Kallach demonstrated once more that he was a lad at heart by casting a sidelong glance at the two fleshy mounds.

"Phew! Sorry you two. Hope you don't mind that I took a bit longer to reach ya."

"It's living hell back in the kitchen."

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
The same conversation regarding dreadlords sparked in Violetta’s ears. She had never been a fan of them. The woman seemed to share that sentiment. They were traumatized individuals, yes. But what they were used for was inexcusable. And many of them implement their own trauma onto others, another unforgivable act. She really wished the dreadlord initiative just didn’t exist.

His words pulled her from her thought and she reactively looked back towards him. Kallach was good at saying the right thing at the right time. He earned another of her pretty smiles. She’d opened her mouth to respond sarcastically again, but the barmaid had returned with their drinks looking frazzled from the atmosphere.

Her apology and explanation was quickly waved off by the tiefling.

“You don’t owe us no explanation, honey. Yer doing good work.”

The barmaid grinned toothily, her eyes fighting to not stare at Kallach while she was here.

“I really appreciate that. Can I get you two something to eat? Will you need lodging?”

Her gaze fell shamelessly on Kallach and his barrel chested presentation at that final question.
Violetta couldn’t help but smirk at the not so subtle invitation. She rose her eyebrows at Kallach as if to say ‘what are you waiting for’.

“I’m a bit famished, I’d love some roasted rabbit if it’s in yer rotation at the moment. What’re you feeling, Kal-“

“ENOUGH!”


A voice broke through their interaction from the other side of the room. A good chunk of the crowd fell silent as well and Violetta’s eye followed the abrupt noise. She saw a man standing near a toppled seat, staring down the woman who’d been bad mouthing the dreadlords. He had one hand on his swords hilt.

“I’ve heard just about enough slander out of your whore mouth, you’d best watch your tongue before you lose it.” A man sitting next to him followed with.

That was a threat if she’d ever heard one. She rose from her chair and looked at Kallach with an expression of iron. She motioned with her head towards the incident.

Kallach
 
"Bring me some beef goulash. That'll do," he said to the waitress before hurriedly rising.

Kallach followed Violetta in her wake. Suddenly, his large hand dropped to her shoulder and clasped it. He drew her two paces back with an iron grip.

His expression hardened. Suddenly he seemed older. His features possessed all the coldness and rigidity of a granite boulder. To look at her, he leaned closer. His crystal blue eyes intensified, their color deepening. They were now emitting a faint glow. Magical radiation permeated the air around him.

"This isn't the time to be playing a hero, Violetta. You have no idea who those men are."

"I don't want to have to bail you out if the city guard captures us,"
he said.

SMACK

A shriek of female origin rebound off his sensitive eardrums. It gave way to a dull thud that reminded him of someone dropping a sack of potatoes.

When Kallach's head snapped around to see what was making all the noise, he discovered the woman prone on the ground. A little red puddle appeared beneath her face as blood leaked from her busted lower lip. She tried getting on her knees but slipped in the process, nearly landing on her forehead.

"Stay down!" he barked shrilly, "you good-for-nothing wench."

His words were as sharp as daggers and dripping with poison.

The man who had savagely backhanded her pushed her back onto the creaky floorboards by pushing sole of his boot against her hip.
No one raised a hand to assist the downed woman. Instead, they backed away, giving the assailant plenty of space to slip his fingers around the obscenely huge hunting knife slung over his hip.


Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
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Kallach placed his vice grip on Violetta’s shoulders only to receive her head turning and eyes of ice and ire staring back at him. Even if he was right and the decision she was about to make, he’d had a lot of nerve putting his hands on her twice. Perhaps she’d mistaken hubris for a cool and collected demeanor. But who the hell was he to tell her what to do?

Then don’t.” She hissed a retort to his comment about bailing her out. No one had before. What would change now? She matched his grip with one of her own, lifting his hand from her shoulder and dropping it once it was off of her.

Then came the woman’s shriek.

The bar patrons scattering like scared rats away from the abuse this woman suffered just for having an opinion. Everyone was just going to let her die? Fuck Vel Anir.

“You wanted to get t‘know me?” She said coldly, her eyes only on the violent exchange taking place.

“Well, this is who I fuckin’ am.”

Violetta stomped over to to encounter and stole the seat out from under one of the more lazy aggressors. His ass hit the ground and he let out a large grunt as she brought the chair upwards. With all her might, she swung the shoddy wooden thing into the spine of the man reaching for his knife. The chair exploded with a thunderous crash as wood splintered and sent debris flying. As well as sending the man face first into the ground.

His allies all rose and drew their weapons.

Four, at least. They didn’t look like novices, either.

“You must be real big men t’be swingin’ on ladies just due to their mouths.”

Violetta popped her neck twice with the palms of her hands, letting a sickening crunch fill the now silent air.

Kallach
 
The armed man crashed face first into the closest wall. His nose shatterdd off with a horrific wet crunch when it impacted the stone-hard surface. Blood was freely flowing, forming a bloody blot on the wall.

The man fell harmlessly to his knees while still unconscious and with his battered face pressed against the wall. Kallach observed the man defiling himself. He was definitely asleep, yet every few seconds his body moved violently.

Damn. Shards of nasal bone must've went into his brain. He's as good as dead.

Like a hot knife through butter, the idea sliced through his thoughts. Violetta just murdered a man. The chance that she was unaware of the murder she had just committed made the entire scenario worse.

"And what you are is one hard-headed woman."

Kallach inhaled sharply. One of the friends of the now deceased man approached him. He was wielding an arming sword in one hand and a duelist's dagger in the other.

Kallach winced as the blade's tip was directed towards his neck. He hadn't been stabbed yet, and the attacker appeared willing to keep Kallach at a distance.

He was attempting to intimidate him, in other terms.

Kallach's upper lip curled up into a wild sneer, showing off his gums and pearly white teeth.

"You know," he said, pointing to the sword and making an obscene gesture with his index and forefinger, "they're not made for threatening people."

Everything took place very rapidly. One second the man was facing Kallach with his sword raised, and the next he hung suspended in mid air, magical tendril sticking through his chest.

As it had pierced his chest, the tentacle had completely shattered his sternum and severely damages the surrounding ribs. No one, least of all a mortal man, could have survived that.

The man let go of his twin swords as his limbs became slack. He attempted to utter something, probably a curse, but the crimson broth that was welling in his mouth snuffed out the words.

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
Violetta did not know the man was dead. Yet, on the other hand, she would’t have cared. This kingdom worshipped bullies. And while she didn’t consider herself a saint by any means, she certainly thought herself above what this place preached. Dreadlords, especially.

Her attention now pulled to the insanity of the magic that Kallach was projecting, she almost didn’t see the knife aiming for her ribs. The man who’d fallen from his seat was now pouncing towards her, a large ornate dagger held in both of his hands. A quick side step let her narrowly avoid the impalement.

As she wound up a kick to retaliate, the lithe man then slashed the blade her way without looking and caught her from her ear to the edge of her lips. Violetta screamed in pain from the slash, falling backwards and into the stools at the bar. A couple patrons fled the scene and many were seeming to rush towards the guard.

Just their luck.

As her attacker recalibrated and turned on his heels, she’d reached back and grabbed and mug of ale. When he got close enough she brought it across his jaw like a shortened bat. Teeth flew as well as the whole man’s body, and he fell on his side with a thud.

As she looked up to find her ally she saw him finishing his target. There were, however, two men rushing Kallach with axes and swords raised to kill him.

“BEHIND YOU!”

Kallach
 
It wasn't necessary to alert him of their arrival. He already knew it. Three heavily armed men. The first held a bearded axe, the second a kind of curved cavalry blade, and the third was forced to settle for a long dagger.

The first man, who was holding a saber, swung it diagonally in an attempt to cut a gash across Kallach's chest. His blade rent the air with commendable speed, whistling as it went. A regular person would not have been able to avoid such a blow. The blade was a blur as it descended, with only the faint light winking off its silvery spine revealed its murderous design.

But Kallach had long since traded in his mortal eyes for something greater. To him, the man was moving in slow motion. With a thought he conjured up even more tentacles to protect himself.

Artificial constructs sprung forth, connecting with the incoming blade before it had the chance to bite into Kallach's exposed shoulder.


The saber rattled as a tremor ran down its steel spine. Its blade bounced back and broke off near the basket hilt.

It took the man a moment to figure out what had just happened. He looked at the blade, now clattering uselessly at his feet as a horrific realization dawned on him. He was defenseless.

Kallach left him no room for reprieve, no time to contemplate his fate. The tendril lashed out, violently blowing a hole in the man's lower abdomen. Blood and bits of gut sprayed the man's allies.


The man gave a shrill, agonised cry, and sank down to his knees. With a final whimper, he toppled forward, and kicked in his death throes. Kallach watched him die, but derived little satisfaction from it all.

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
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The display Kallach put on was one hell of a show. The man being eviscerated was certainly a sight to behold. Being unversed in magic herself, she could not tell what was even happening for the most part. Her attention could not be diverted from the scene as the man’s entrails and organs escaped his body.

Kallach was dangerous, really dangerous.

Violetta didn’t find fear while she looked at the magic though. Disgust, sure, as it was grossly disemboweling their opponents. But it was interesting. A strange new thing shed seen nothing of before. It intrigued her.

She had come to the conclusion her help was not needed. But, this was her mess first. Not his. He was just the one who chose to follow through with it. With a battle cry, Violetta rushed towards the axe wielder. Before he could swing his weapon her way, her arms were already wrapped around him. This proved to be no impediment to the muscular tiefling.

She charged with him lifted over her shoulder and stopped only to toss the man onto a cluttered table. The wooden mugs and silverware dug into the man’s back as he fell flat on the table, splintering it all the way to the ground.

Kallach
 
Kallach stepped into a puddle of blood. It reeked of a sickly, almost tangy aroma. Iron, copper, and an almost sweet note of decay to cut through the initial sharpness. The stench assailed him, and although it wasn't particularly potent, it made his stomach twist into a knot.

Trouble awaited them.

The men were dead, dead or crippled, judging from the lack of movement.

And the patrons? The patrons were gone. The inn itself was damn near empty, sans the two of them and a handful of cowering workers.

Kallach peered over the counter and found two frightened women huddled together. The two embraced each other more tightly at the sight of him.

Kallach shook his head. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow. His heart slammed against his sternum like a jackhammer. He felt like he had just run a marathon.

"Violetta?" he called out, fumbling for words. The whole ordeal left his throat dry and tight.
He found it challenging to swallow due to a bulge at the rear of it.

Jumping over the bodies and a scattering of chairs as he went, he dashed over to her. He grabbed her and her forearm was encircled by his powerful fingers. To catch Violetta's attention, Kallach gave her a vigorous shake while still holding her tightly.

"It is imperative that we leave now before the guardsmen arrive."

"I...I don't believe I can kill any more people," he said

His knuckles had started to turn white. At this point, waiting for a response seemed like a luxury. Whether she agreed or not, Kallach simply wanted to throw her over his shoulder and run.

Violetta Amrita Primrose
 
Her blind rage almost barred her from noticing the grasp. The destruction they’d caused hadn’t dawned on her at all. She was in the fight for justice for the woman and didn’t care what lengths would be taken. But the shake got her attention and she looked at Kallach. He was… Mournful. Sorry for what he’d done. Much more than she was. It saddened her. She callously had dragged him into this fight.

Her voice softening, “You’re right. Let’s leave.“

She took one final look at the chaos they’d strewn about and sighed. She always got out of hand during these things. It never phased her, not really. She’d killed many before for less good a reason. But that didn’t mean she needed to pull others into her numb rage.

“I know the Falwood well. If we can make it there quick, we can lose them easily.”

She said before heading towards the exit.

Kallach