Completed Getaway (Inoadar)

[Amolina]

No time to relax, no time to think about anything else than the escape from the Ebonstryfe... Amolina was aware that running away with Nolan Parnell wasn’t exactly safe, but first things first. Like so many other ravokians she had been scared with the Ebonstryfe when she was a child – “if she was bad the stryfers would come and take her away”. She was used to consider the Ebonstryfe the most powerful protectors and dangerous law enforcers in the world. Nothing compared. This was perhaps not so logical, but this was how she felt. It was maybe also true, at least in Ravok. She could think of Parnell later…right now she couldn’t afford it. If the Ebonstryfe interrogated her she would break and speak. And once they found out that she had been spying on a Black Sun agent, a chaon, they would no doubt go on and try to squeeze out more information. Oh, if she had not done that darn job...but she had, and now she needed to keep it secret. Parnell? She watched the man instantly try to bribe the ravonsalaman like that kind of thing was a commonplace and natural thing for him to do. Obviously he understood the situation and was resourceful enough to come up with something that could be useful. She needed to act and make noise. And it wasn’t hard to scream. Amolina screamed as loudly as she could. Rage or fear, who would know the difference? The important thing was only to give the styfers reason to believe the domestic fight was in full swing out there in the ravonsala. For added realism she attempted to slap Parnell again. In best case the spectators they had left behind would give up…but it WAS the Ebonstryfe, and chances were they would be zealous and send a boat to follow them, or assign soldiers to run on the walkways towards next stop and try to intercept them there. The ravonsalaman was speeding up the boat, pushing it on along the canal, faster and faster.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar stepped back to stand beside the boatman, subtly grabbing hold of his shirt in case the man tried to shove him overboard. Amolina was raising a fine ruckus, but Inoadar wanted to stand where the boatman would be unable to have seen the soldiers calling and waving in the distance.

The fact that the boatman made no objection to Inoadar's proximity in the boat served to confirm his suspicions. Inoadar paid a seasonal bribe to the ravosalamen for a variety of perks. As an indirect result, he had gotten to know most of them on sight. This man was not one of them. Also, this run was considerably ahead, or behind, schedule. And there were color schemes to the routes plied on the city's canals. This boat did not match them. In fact, it was hardly showing any colors at all.

Inoadar popped one of the blades out of the front of his boots with a bit of flair to be sure the pilot noticed it. "Calm down and play along, friend. I know you're a fake and I don't care, as long as you cooperate. And right now that means ignoring the soldiers. Don't even look that way." He kicked the blade back in place against one of the bench seats and gestured at Amolina, who had paused for moment at the presentation of the blade.

"You see what I have to put up with." He turned to face her, adding his own script to their little drama. "WOULD YOU SHUT YOUR PETCHING MOUTH FOR FIVE CHIMES?" he turned back to the man, still gesturing as though he was talking about Amolina. He explained to the man, citing a few incidents he was personally aware of, how angry the real boatmen would be to discover someone poaching their customers. He assured the man that he had no intent of selling him out as long as he took them where they wanted to go. He also assured the man that he had many such additional weapons secreted upon himself.

He interspersed some choice tirades toward Amolina during his discourse with the increasingly troubled pilot. Once they were out of range of the soldiers, even at yelling volume, he went and sat beside Amolina, not out of friendliness, but to keep his eyes on the boatman. If she chose to move, he did not care. It would only make it easier to keep his eyes on both of them.

"I don't think we should go to the next ravosala platform, for two reasons. First, the soldiers will anticipate this. If they really want to...speak to us further...that is the logical thing for them to do. And second, this man here needs to leave the standard boat routes. The boatmen may already be aware that someone picked up some customers at one of their platforms. Now that's fine as a personal favor between friends, one of them owning a ravosala. But if he takes us straight to their next platform, well, that's a different deal altogether. That's stealing their money, as far as they're concerned."

He turned his gaze directly to Amolina. "Is there somewhere else we can go?"

[Amolina]

The ravonsala stop they had left from was in the Docks, near the ferries to Lakeshore. And now they were still on a canal in The Docks, heading towards next ravonsala stop…but a totally new problem had been added to the trouble they were in : the ravonsalaman wasn’t a ravonsalaman. And if he wasn’t a ravonsalaman, there were lots of other things he could be, and most of them seemed dangerous. He COULD be a citizen looking to make extra money, but he could also be other things – a criminal (organized or freelancing) involved in things she didn’t want to know anything about, or someone passing himself off as boatman in order to run from the razzia, or even an Ebonstryfer in disguise if this was a trap meant to catch any suspect elements trying to leave, in order to take them right to the prison…or in order to befriend and infiltrate them…the ravonsalaman could very well be an Ebonstryfe spy. Parnell came and sat beside her. Unpleasant as this was, it was useful for getting to speak with her accomplice without the boatman overhearing them. It didn’t seem to have occurred to Parnell that appearances can be even more deceptive than you think, sometimes. The important thing now was to make him stop babbling aloud and let the boatman know lots of things he could tell or sell. He knew far too much already: their faces, the escape, the bribe, the poison maker’s weapons and his contacts with the ravonsalamen, his reasons for not wanting to go to the next stop…there seemed to be no end to what Parnell found harmless to speak about aloud. It was time to take the acting to a higher level and silence that dolt. She turned to him and with a sudden soft sob she moved the faked argument on to phase two: when people are totally emotionally spent, come out of the frenzy and start to realize what they have said… and regret part of it. Her voice went hoarse and faint and it broke when she said something about having lost her temper and oh Rhysol forgive her, she just wanted to go home, his accusations and distrust had so upset and hurt her, she had not meant… She didn’t want to give Parnell a chance to answer something silly, so she grabbed him quickly, threw her arms around his neck, clung to him and pretended to be whispering something nice in his ear. Truth was that she hissed: “Shut up! Stop telling him everything, you blockhead! Whisper! “ Still holding on to him and pretending to be devastated, she whispered to him briefly how she was thinking. She asked him to make the man turn left into a side canal they were soon going to reach. This would take them from the broader, more frequently trafficked main canals, into a veritable spiderweb of smaller, narrower waterways, weaving silently between simpler and shabbier buildings. She didn’t know yet exactly what they would need to do to shake the boatman off, cover their tracks and move on. But she knew they had to do it. And then she would also need to shake off Parnell, but first things first.

[Inoadar]

It came as somewhat of a surprise when Amolina suddenly fell to her tearful apologizing. But the surprise quickly faded in the face of her criticizing. He turned a withering glare at the woman, "I HAD to tell him not to go to the next platform, didn't I?" he hissed. "Do you question the reason why it needed to be avoided? You think that's giving something away that he wouldn't have figured out anyway?"

He rolled his eyes at her ongoing concerns. "Okay, I'll give you that I may not have needed to go into that much detail about my experiences with the Ravosalamen, but it's hardly indicative of subversive leanings to know a few boatmen and see a few things. Besides, the minute we departed from the boat's regular route, we were already suspicious, so any additional odd behavior is not that big a deal."

Now she asked for Inoadar to give the man instructions for leaving the main waterway and enter some back routes. He propped himself on his cane as he casually issued his directive, watching the pilot for any signs of stress. There were several, the twitch of hesitancy from a man undecided whether to comply or not, the eyes looking left and right for possible avenues of escape, the licking of nervously dry lips.

Inoadar sighed and leaned back to Amolina, "Vayt's Voice, woman, look at him." he whispered like a lover, complete with bobbing eyebrows and a tickling caress. He could not help but enjoy the thought of how much revulsion Amolina must be concealing at his touch. "He's so scared, he almost looks like you. Relax sweetheart, I've never seen a man more certain that he's steering his boat to his own death. Is that what you want?"

Inoadar put just enough sincerity in his voice to give Amolina pause. He let his eyes narrow to add to his taunting charade. "I mean if you're THAT certain that he's some kind of danger to us, then we HAVE to silence him. You know, you're right, we DO need to silence him. Should we wait until he gets us where we're going first? I mean as long as we're agreed on killing him, then it doesn't matter if he sees where we go, right? Where ARE we going anyway? I wonder if he has a wife...and children..."

He made a 'tsk, tsk' sound and shook his head in mock sadness, turning the crook of his cane. It clicked as the two sections unlocked. He slid just a hair of the stiletto blade connected to it out of the blowgun tube comprising the bulk of his cane. He turned and leaned towards Amolina, making as if offering her the weapon, "Shall I do it?" he asked, his face a study in serious inquiry. "Or did you want to?"

In truth, his intent was to use the blowgun to dart the man with a dose of Blue Whinnis, which would weaken him and then render him unconscious. Then they'd go where they wanted. He would make a note of the location, pilot the boat to some distant spot and make his way back. Maybe he'd sink the boat, maybe not. He considered the fact that this would be giving Amolina an out. But he couldn't deny that her quick thinking back at the brothel had very likely saved his life.

He'd begun to question lately whether he really had cause to carry the grudge he'd been nursing. The proper authorities had ordered her to do what she'd done. His own reaction had caused the escalation that had near ruined him, despite her part in it. Plus, he'd been motivated to craft an antidote for "Dark Reaving" due to the whole situation, something he'd not otherwise have bothered with. It was always nice to have a toxin set for sale, both toxin AND antidote. It seemed more professional somehow.

[Amolina]

The way Parnell rolled his eyes and dismissed most of her reasoning like he found it utterly ridiculous annoyed Amolina a great deal. But he did like she had asked and gave the boatman instructions to enter enter the back routes. She watched him lean on the cane – she had not had time to think of it earlier, but now she wondered. Was he a cripple? But she stopped thinking of it again when Parnell leaned towards her again and continued his part of the playacting. Ouch – he OVERDID it like a bad busker starring in an absurd farce! And it seemed to be deliberate. The way he bobbed his eyebrows and made his voice drip with faked loving sweetness felt like it wasn’t far from mocking sarcasm. He had the nerve to tickle her too, and a tickle is a tickle no matter the situation. To her own annoyment her automatic reflexes made her wince a wee bit. Parnell’s face didn’t reveal anything but she bet he had done it intently just to taunt her for the sake of it. Parnell’s next words did nothing to make Amolina feel less annoyed. "He's so scared, he almost looks like you.” Insulting in numerous ways, to say the least, but delivered in the faked affectionate voice Parnell had taken to using in order to play along. But right now there was no way back, she could hardly go back to hitting him now. She had to listen to the drivel. Parnell spoke on. “Relax sweetheart, I've never seen a man more certain that he's steering his boat to his own death. Is that what you want?" She stared at him. What the…what did he mean…but it wasn’t hard to get it, actually…it was just hard to believe it was real. Parnell was calling her sweetheart and telling her to relax and at same time asking her if she wanted him to murder the boatman, or if she preferred to do it herself. And the way he mentioned the boatman’s possible wife and children in passing by… The boatman had turned left and she spoke to him and made him turn left again into next side channel, and then left again, and right … They were now in a maze of narrow canals in the shadow between warehouses, workshops and other not so romantic buildings in the harbour area of Ravok. It was silent, and the low sound of the water against the platforms could be heard when the boat moved on. “We are going into the back routes of the warehouse quarters of The Docks” she said to Parnell. “And after a while we will come to the part where many fishermen and harbour labourers live...in case we are being followed by a boat we can hope that they will lose track of us..." And from there? She wasn't sure. It would depend on if they were being followed or not. If it turned out nobody was after them she might go home to her apartment...but if the were pursued she would not dare to take the risk ... then it could be better to move on...but where... The cane had turned into a weapon, a blade hidden there too, just like in his booth. Parnell’s green eyes had narrowed dangerously and he offered her the weapon. She met his gaze and she felt all cold inside. She had no intention of doing something as stupid as killing the boatman. But it occurred to her that if Parnell killed the boatman, he could turn on her next…it could be useful to have a weapon…fear spread out inside her like a palpable thing and she reached out and tried to grab the cane.

[Inoadar]

An instant of indecision urged Inoadar to tighten his grip on the cane as Amolina grabbed it, but not to pull it away. He paused a moment, and then released it to her grip, stifling the urge to glare at her. If there was still some necessity in continuing this unconvincing charade that they were a pair of sweethearts, HE would at least NOT be the one to ruin it.

He kept his voice low, the smile and mild set of his eyes belying the subtle hiss of his words. "Yes, isn't it nice. That was my father's cane. It's sort of an heirloom. It was good of you to ask first. Because I would take great offense, were someone to simply grab it from me. Feel free to examine it, when I need it back I will ask, though I don't expect that to occur until I need to get to my feet again."

He lay back, swinging his hands up behind his head. He would not lower himself to say it, but he wondered if Amolina would play along and lay back beside him so he could put his loving arm around her shoulders. 'Play along now, you idealistic bitch.' he thought to himself. He had no idea what she expected to develop.

'Doesn't she realize that this man is going to have to be dealt with sooner or later?' he puzzled. 'If there's a reason to make it later, I wish she would say.' Everything about this man's behavior, from the moment they stepped into the boat, said he was just a man poaching business from the Ravosalamen. And estimating motivations based on behavior was a talent that had rarely let him down.

Besides, If her intent was, as she said, to lose pursuit, then she ought to consider that if they continued this aimless wandering, they were just as likely, if not more, to come back INTO the field of surveillance again. There was no sign of past or present pursuit. It was time to either reach their destination or get out and stop being the phony-pair-of-nervous-lovers-in-a-boat that their pursuit would be looking for. In either event, the boatman needed to be made into a non-problem.

If she wanted to say it was his fault that the boatman had heard more than he should have, and was now a liability as a result, fine. He didn't agree, but there was no point in arguing about it. But if she now thought SHE was going to decide what to DO about him, well, he didn't intend for there to be any argument about THAT either. He didn't need the blowgun for this anyway.

[Amolina]

It wasn’t dark yet, but the sunset was over. The sky was paling and it would soon be dusk. On they went, on the meandering and narrow canal, between high,and silent warehouses and workshops that were closed for the evening. Unlike the brigth and glittering side of Ravok by night, there were no lanterns hanging from the somewhat shabby backside facades of those industrial structures, and not a single light could be seen from the shut windows above them. The still and silent water they travelled on was dark and gleaming. Here and there the boat had to go dangerously close to the opposite buildings in order to avoid loading bridges where goods could be delivered to and from the doors towards the canal. The air smelled faintly of unpleasant things, like air used to smell in this kind of back waterways. Nolan Parnell had offered her his cane. When she reached out to recieve it, he had put it in her hand and told her to feel free to investigate it. But now he was saying she had asked for it, like it had been her own idea. Amolina watched him clasp his hands behind his neck and lean back, smiling at her, softness in his eyes and in his smile, like he was without words telling her ”come here”. Playacting…and the natural next step if she wanted to play along and keep up the pretense would be to lean back beside him and smile back, wouldn’t it ? And it was easy to imagine him moving on to put his arm around her, in a more than friendly manner. But who was there to fool with a show like this? She looked at the fake ravonsalaman. It was true like Parnell had said. The man was scared. To her observant actress eye the signs were obvious, despite how the man did his best to appear totally relaxed. The boatman was already aware that they weren’t just an innocent couple on their way to be reconsiled after an argument. He knew they were on the run from the stryfers. He knew Parnell was crammed with weapons. The boatman would so not believe they were a pair of innocent and harmless lovers. Why bother with the playacting anymore? Then again…she could of course go for fooling Parnell. With the knowledge she had about him from previous experience and after all the hidden weapons she had seen pop out today, she didn’t doubt that he was fully able to make reality of his idea to kill the boatman. If he did it, she would find herself alone with Parnell in a boat on a deserted back route canal. That could be the last thing that happened to her in life…if she didn’t figure out how to fool him one more time. Oh, well. Parnell had already believed so many things when it came to her, now she just needed to make him believe more. More of the same, even. He already believed she was stupid. So she would simply pretend that she was stupid enough to still believe it was worth the while to play along and keep up the appearance in order to decieve the boatman. Chances were prejucide would make Parnell find it logical that she played along despite how silly and unessessary it was now. Then, if it came to an attack on the boatman, she would try to jump for the nearest loading bridge and disappear discretely into one of the warehouses before Parnell had time to notice. Yes, she would playact, she would play along. No need to say it was a totally new play now. Amolina held the cane in her hands and studied it. It seemed to be an utterly precious thing that Parnell was terribly worried about losing. She shook it tentatively in order to find out how it worked…the hidden dagger wouldn’t be of much use if she couldn’t make it work properly. ”Ah, yes, the heirloom from your father” she said in a tone like she understood everything now. ”I see.” With the cane in a firm grip she leaned back beside Parnell, putting all her actress skill into the warm smile she gave him. Parnell gazed back into her eyes and promptly put his arm around her shoulders. It seemed like he was about to say something, when suddenly… The boatman must have been waiting for a moment like this one. He too had been thinking desperately of a way to save himself and been prepared to act. Now he swung around to face them, the big pole he had used to move the boat on in his hands and already on it’s way towards them at high speed.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar's adrenaline surged and compounded the off-balance effect of having his right arm pinned under Amolina's shoulder, as he tried to react to the sudden threat. He managed to adjust and regain some leverage by abandoning any attempt to deflect the incoming pole with his arms, using them instead to hold his torso in place as he kicked.

He missed a direct block, but the glancing blow, and friction as it slid along the remaining length, served to reduce the impact on his forearm. But he still felt several vials of poison shatter in the loops of his concealed bracer. He tried to pull his arm loose from beneath Amolina, but she seemed frozen by the sudden violence. The boatman swung the pole around, letting a portion of its length slide through his hand to grip it more like a spear as he stepped toward them prepping a thrust.

"GET OFF ME!" Inoadar shouted at Amolina, trying to pull his pinned arm free. Her cringing was made worse by her grip on his arm as she shrank away from the approaching boatman. It was almost as if she was TRYING to hol -...Suddenly it all came clear to him. She was in on it!

it all added up to him at once as he instinctively made what effort he could to stifle any clear shots from the pole-turned-quarterstaff. It had all been planned form the start! He had thought the phony ravosalaman's arrival had been almost TOO timely. Amolina had made it clear before that she got instructions from a Black Sun agent. Had she known about the raid on the brothel and been there just to watch for him?

It was an odd sense of appreciation that grew as the details feel into place. She was an actress, and she'd played him brilliantly. Every facet of his personality had been exploited to bring him to this situation. His inevitable approach upon seeing her; his belief that HIS role in their little charade had made the difference in their "escape" from the soldiers; his babbling to the boatman to take control of the situation; his arrogant overconfidence in his cowing of the boatman; her playing him to get him to release the blowgun to her; and now her playacting terror to account for blatantly holding him down while her partner assaults him.

It was perfect, it was genius, it was a capitalization on every personality flaw he possessed! He had allowed himself to get into a wretchedly vulnerable position, but only after revealing the presence and location of his remaining weapons, and that only after surrendering his primary weapon to Amolina in a brazen display of exaggerated self-confidence.

His estimation of Amolina's capability soared. Where someone who had never been a liar and manipulator and killer would probably feel outrage, Inoadar felt strangely at peace. he was surely going to die, but it had only been at the contrivance of a brilliant plot, possibly involving a whole rank of players. He felt honored. And Amolina still played her part!

He turned toward her, a smile of respect on his face. "Well played, girl, but I'm not finished yet." He pushed her with his left arm as he wrenched his right arm out from under her. The pole slammed into his back with rib-snapping force. He screamed in fury, concentrating on the pain in his throat to distract him from the pain in his back, as he grabbed the cane. He suddenly became aware of a mild burning sensation on his arm near his bracer.

The boatman swung the pole again. Inoadar raised his left arm and took the shot to his side, snarling again to transform the pain into motivation for action as he hooked his arm around it. He pulled, lifting himself close enough to swing the cane and catch the man's wrist. The man released the pole and dove at him. Inoadar tried to wrestle with him, but he could feel some poison beginning to sap his strength. he must have a cut on his arm where the poison darts had been shattered.

He knew it was a losing effort so he stuck the cane out towards Amolina. It was time to find out once and for all where she stood. He thought she'd probably laugh in his face, but maybe he was wrong about her part in this. If she decided to let him die, he knew he deserved it, but it was worth a shot. "PUSH IN ON THE HOOK AND TURN IT!" he shouted as the boatman rained punches on him.

[Amolina]

The boatman had seemed so cowed and frightened and Amolina had not been prepared for him to attack them. She had seen Parnell as the most intimidating person in the boat and thought of him as a mortal danger she planned to try to get away from. She had been so focused on playing stupid to delude and deceive him that she had forgotten to be alert. Parnell too seemed to have forgotten for a moment to pay attention to the boatman. A fatal mistake… Now the man had reacted like a cornered animal and attacked first, in order to defend himself. His face was contorted in an expression of horror and rage, his staring eyes seemed to bulge out and he showed his teeth in a savage, murderous grin. He was awful to behold and with the pole in his hands, he had instantly turned into a deadly threat. Everything seemed to happen very slowly and it was like she could see and hear every little detail extremely clearly, while there was nothing she could do to halt the course of events. Like in a nightmare where you know you have to run and escape but are stuck and can not move, Amolina saw the pole sweep down. She felt Parnell in vain attempt to shove her aside and avoid the blow, while her paralyzed body pinned him down and made him an easy target. She heard the sound when the pole hit him, heard him cry out loudly in pain, saw him start to struggle desperately. The roles were reversed. Parnell had turned from attacker to target. Instead of being the one who she feared would attack and kill her, he was now the only thing that stood between her and being beaten to death with a boat stake by their desperate, rebellious hostage. For it was a battle to the death. The boatman was like a furious beast, and there was no doubt that he was set on killing them in order to save himself. Amolina knew she would be next in line when the man had finished Parnell. The poison maker was shouting at her to get off of him. She was a lethal weight that prevented him from defending himself, and she ought to move, she knew that, but she was oddly paralyzed. Parnell shoved her away forcefully. Amolina was still useless …she was sick with fear, by what she saw happen, the sounds and the screams, the pain that shone in Parnell's eyes when the blows hit him. "Well played girl but I’m not finished yet!” What a weird thing to say. His words didn’t make sense to her, but Parnell was smiling at her oddly, like there was a hidden meaning that eluded her completely. Amolina realized that Parnell might die now, here, in this way, slowly and painfully beaten to pulp in a boat in a deserted industrial back route canal. But he seemed to have decided to fight to the end despite how futile it seemed. Her paralysis ended when he pushed the cane into her hand and told her to get the dagger out and use it. Just like the boatman, she was seized by sheer animalistic instinct and desire to survive at any cost. She took the cane and did like Parnell said. The dagger popped out and whith a desperate determination born from agony of death she directed the weapon on the boatman. Amolina’s fighting experience was limited to rejecting unwanted overtures from occasional drunks. She knew she had no chance to win this, even though she was armed now, but desperation made her want to fight anyway. While she watched, the boatman turned to her and started to change the course of the next blow, away from Parnell, aiming at her instead. She watched the pole come and wanted to scream, but gave only a small whimpering sound. It was looking bleak …

[Inoadar]

Inoadar could feel his strength failing with every beat of his poisoned heart. The irony did not escape him, that he would be undone by his own weapon. He hadn't taken a full dose of any one poison, but had obviously taken a partial of several. He was weak and confused and getting both sleepy and uncoordinated. One clear thought burst through the fog to tell him to quit trying to assess which poisons he was being affected by and simply fight for his petching life!

He had become so ineffectual that the boatman must have decided to turn his attention to Amolina. This surprised Inoadar, but he couldn't remember why it should. Something about the boatman being her friend. His memory shrugged, he'd seen friends fight plenty of times before now. None of this changed the fact that the boatman was HIS enemy. He kicked up, without even realizing he hadn't reactivated his boot blade. It didn't matter though, as he missed the man by a good foot.

His luck was one aspect that was NOT affected by poison and, though he missed the boatman, his kick still connected with the pole, sending it wide of Amolina to smack heavily against the rail of the Ravosala. The man turned back to Inoadar with a furious sneer, "You want me to kill you first, you bastard? That's fine with me!" The pole was out of position so he abandoned it a second time and dove to wrap his hands around Inoadar's neck.

Inoadar made a feeble attempt to dislodge the man's grip, but it was to no avail and he knew it. he could only hope Amolina would either blow the loaded dart into the big target or jam the stiletto into the base of his skull. There was still a compartment of clarity in his mind that told him the girl didn't have the brutal instinct to do the latter, but a nice shot with the blowgun wouldn't seem so "hands on". It was only a sleep agent as well, nothing lethal, but she wouldn't know that.

He was suddenly reminded that he was wearing his Nettle Cloak when the man's eyes burst wide and he roared in pain. Inoadar's head jerked along with the pull of the man's hands as he ripped them free of the spikes that had sprung outward from a band in the collar of the cloak. Inoadar instinctively twisted his wrists to release the springs there as well as the man sat back on his knees in gasping horror, staring at the line of punctures bleeding from both sides of both hands.

Inoadar weakly swung his right arm, spikes extended, at the man's head. He blocked it easily enough, but took a second set of lacerations from those spikes, one of which was also coated in poison. The man turned in red-faced madness and grabbed Inoadar's head, ignoring the blood and pain as he slammed it against the wooden bench again and again.

Everything went dark, but there was still the sound of hollow impacts for a few seconds before Inoadar lost consciousness. His last thought was a strange sense of happiness for Amolina that her worst enemy, himself, would no longer be a problem for her.