Barstools soared through the air like missiles, tables splintered into shattered pieces beneath the wild frenzy, as the tavern erupted into a whirlwind of madness. The high-pitched screams of the Maidens pierced the air as they ducked behind furniture, frantically seeking refuge from the chaos surrounding them. Among the tumult, a fierce band of warrior women caught the thrill of the brawl and brandished their weapons, eager to plunge into the chaos with full force. It was as if some primal instinct tugged at the crowd, compounding the bedlam and igniting their darkest desires for mayhem.
In the heart of the turmoil, Lord Carson ducked into a booth, narrowly escaping the fray as he sought shelter beside his steadfast companion, Chinera. She instinctively crawled under the table they had just vacated, her wide eyes reflecting sheer terror as she peered at the wild scene unfolding.
"Close call!" Carson yelled, wiping the sweat from his brow just in time to watch a throwing axe slice through the air beside him. Chinera's eyes flashed with fear as she scanned their surroundings, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you alright?"
The beloved daughter of a renowned hunter and trapper, Chinera ventured into this maelstrom accompanied by an impressive battalion of mercenary guards—a clear reflection of her father's newfound wealth and influence. Though noble blood eluded him, his fortune matched many lesser houses, ensuring his daughter's safety and status. Leading the mercenaries was the formidable Lord Nevelle, a legendary swordsman known for his unmatched prowess.
Lord Nevelle towered over the chaos, clad in heavy armor, accentuating his imposing stature. He wielded a massive war hammer with unmatched strength, crushing skulls and sending opponents sprawling with each mighty swing. Ever watchful, he cast glances back toward Carson and Chinera, his eyes showing the weight of responsibility before diving back into the whirlwind. With swift precision, he flung a barrage of daggers into the melee, each finding its target, then executed a flawless somersault onto a nearby table—a true spectacle of muscle, might, and combat brilliance.
Chinera, grasping Lord Carson's hand with fierce determination that masked her fear, watched in horrified awe as the brutal conflict raged around them. The grim specter of death hovered nearby; she could see her father's guards faltering, some resorting to fighting barehanded as they valiantly battled their foes.
Amid the carnage, a striking scene emerged. A dark blur darted through the room, a phantom navigating the chaos gracefully, leaving a trail of broken bodies in its wake. Timitheous embodied a whirlwind of energy, enhanced by his rigorous training and infused with Arkane energy, making him a force to be reckoned with.
With every leap and precise strike, he eliminated only those who threatened Lord Carson and Chinera. Each calculated maneuver felt less like a fight and more like a beautifully choreographed dance of vengeance. He surveyed the battlefield, marking foes encroaching on his charges and swiftly dispatching them, transforming the chaos into his dark symphony of survival. He embodied determination itself.
As the tumult engulfed them, Chinera and Lord Carson seized a fleeting moment to emerge from their hiding spots. Just in time, they witnessed Lord Nevelle heaving a wounded comrade effortlessly over his shoulder. "Get to the back, My Lady! Hurry to the horses!" he bellowed above the din. "You and young Lord Carson must flee before anyone can seize you. I'll find you—head toward the river!"
Her heart racing, a silent, desperate glance passed between Chinera and Carson. Though paralyzed by fear, she summoned the strength to command her legs to move. With sheer resolve, she pushed herself upright, tugging her friend along. "Ouch! Wait, wait!" Lord Carson protested, his legs barely holding him as he tried to keep pace amidst the carnage—blood pooling around their feet and bodies strewn about like discarded toys.
As they neared the exit, Chinera suddenly felt Lord Carson's grip loosen, then go utterly limp. Panic surged through her; her heart thundered as she turned to help him. But before he could hit the ground, a swift figure emerged from the chaos, catching Carson with unerring timing. With reflexes sharper than a hawk's, this young man lifted Lord Carson easily, slinging him over his shoulder and swiftly advancing toward Chinera.
Every instinct warned her to hesitate, to be cautious of this stranger amid the turmoil. Yet, as their eyes locked, something extraordinary sparked between them—a calm confidence radiated from this warrior, unflinching in the face of danger. Without a second thought, Chinera grasped his outstretched hand, her heart racing with a heady mix of fear and exhilaration as they plunged deeper into the fray together.