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[Eccles]

Glimpsed through the window, the companions could see a small group of thugs, led by a horseman who was off to one side. From the side door, the sound of barking dogs could be heard; briefly eclipsed by another shuddering slam of a heavy timber against the front door.

As Tarn strapped his shield to his arm, the others leapt up and looked to the exits. Grusalock’s form blurred and warped as he swelled up into the form of a towering brown bear. He shambled across to the front door, even as it was smashed open.

In ran several men wearing black armbands. The first ducked nimbly under Grusalock’s swinging claw, but his movement merely meant that the bear’s paw slammed into the throat of the man entering behind him, who fell back into the snow bleeding from a terrible throat wound.

Tyr dashed around behind one thug with a ugly dagger in one hand, receiving a blow to the head as he tried to flank his opponent. Staggered, he still managed to sink his blade into the man’s side.

From outside, Grusalock could see a small burning light appear suddenly in the sky directly over the inn. Amidst an ear-splitting bang, the light suddenly burst outwards and covered the roof of the building with heat and flame as a tremendous cask of burning pitch shattered over the timbers. His keen elven ears could hear the screaming of a man who was on the top floor of the building, as burning oils leaked through the mangled ceiling, instantly turning the upper floors into an inferno.

Distracted by this sight, he didn’t really notice his enemies moving to surround him, lashing out with clubs at his massive form. He shrank back against a wall as several heavy blows connected.

Inside, combat halted briefly as everyone turned to see a screaming, burning figure collapse down the stairwell, to land in a heap on the floor. Burning oil began to seep through the ceiling timbers as desperate hands tightened on weapons again. Tarn was struck as Torrent moved to the door and lashed out with her battleaxe.

Tyr’s opponent’s blood sprayed from a vicious throat slash which earned the grinning half-orc a reproachful look from Tarn, whilst outside Grusalock lashed around himself and smashed two of his enemies heads against a third, dropping them all into the blood-spattered snow.

Tarn leapt out of the side door, to encounter three snarling war-hounds in the cramped alleyway. One of them reached past him to snap at Wingwrath as he cast a spell – the bite distracting the dragonborn enough that his sell left a patch of frost on the alley wall.

Inside the burning building, Torrent was beset by problems – one of the thugs outside had struck her a hefty blow, and suddenly with a tremendous crash a baulk of burning timber slammed down heavily on her shoulder bringing to her knees.

In the street, dogs launched themselves at the now seriously hurt Grusalock and the heavily armoured Tarn; barks and yells mixed in with the sounds coming from the city as a whole.

Overhead, wyverns swooped and drifted over the city, which was now firmly ablaze. Periodically, one of them would drop a heavy cask of pitch and add to the destruction in the city. Screams from the populace drifted up to meet them, as the terrified citizens desperately tried to find safety amidst the burning chaos.

Tarn advanced on the knight, hacking down a dog with his longsword as he strode forwards. Wingwrath chanted from behind him and sent a blast of magic over his shoulder which splashed against the knight’s armour which condensed into a thick layer of ice.

As he stepped out of the alley, two of the surviving thugs charged Tarn, and a sap and a handaxe bounced off his armour.

They were met by a claw from Grusalock and a prayer from Torrent, and both of them collapsed into the snow.

The knight drew his sword and hacked down at Tarn, calling out “Stand down!”, and the hugely powerful strike clanged into Tarn’s helmet, staggering him. His counter-strike was inaccurate, and the knight swing again in a counter-attack.

Roaring in pain as he was struck once again, Wingwrath unleashed another blast of cold into the face of another thug; and then their leader bellowed out “it’s no good – get out of here”, at which point the two surviving armband wearing bandits moved to flee.

Hacking another deep groove into Tarn’s armour, the knight swung his horse to flee from the alleyway, and all the companions began to chant; Tarn blasting thunder from his sword-tip, Torrent creating a tidal surge in the snow with her invocation. Wingwrath also blasted the fleeing knight before lightning crashed down out of the snowy skies at Grusalock’s calling. As the armoured form crashed off his horse, something barely visible evaporated like mist out from his body.