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Even as the blades swirled through the air in his direction, Zhouken remained calm. Just as each flying blade aimed to piece his body Zhouken moved, his body flowing in and out of the way of each blade of death, with nothing but simple steps. He seemed to dance around the whirling death like a dancer would.

"You rage is nothing that can stand against my skill." Zhouken commented as he raised his sword once more in the defensive. Placing himself in the direct path of Cutter's raging form.

((Wow! How'd he get a mod of +14???? A Bit Op...))

As Cutter took the samurai's blade to the chest, Adrik came out of no where! Song of the Mer and Strength of the Bull he tackled Cutter full force slamming the machine off the katana and on the ground! This was not his normal fighting style but when blessed with bull strength am I right? Adrik remembered this retoricle thought was all in his head and didn't wait for a response. Reaching forward he grabbed his dragon dagger off the ground and went to stab it into the top of Cutters head! This would end the bot, well this would end anyone, being stabbed with the strength of a bull with the inspiration of the Merfolk. "Eat fiery steel ya tinker tot!"

((Edit)) Adrik drove the blade into the top of the war forged skull as metal melted away from the heat of the dagger, "WHO SENT YOU!" Adrik screamed as the blade neared the machines mind, "who sent you to kill us," Adrik waited only a moment before the blade broke through the last layer giving only moments for the mechanical man to respond before its brain mechanism burst into flames!

read the description of the maneuver and you'll understand why)

(You do realize we aren't using hard rules for this correct. the goal is story not rules heavy gameplay.)

Lets just move on please. Next up

((Honestly a mod like that is doable. There's certain stances that give a huge modifier for a short while. Not that it matters, it's a story, after all.))

Blades! Blades everywhere! Aearion's eyes widened as he held his his trident in front of him, but fear washed over him. Instinctively he dropped to his knees and started singing.

"In the dark of the night,
No evil can find me.
In the dark of the night,
I shall vanish."

He sang quickly and panicked. After the words were sung, he strummed two notes on the lute on his back, and the Mer vanished, seemingly undetectable by the senses. However, a stream of blood appeared on the ground as well. No screams were heard, but it was safe to say going invisible did not stop any blades getting shot his way.

Frog’s mask lifted towards Cutter’s blades, her gloved hand lifting upward to place itself in front of the mask. Her free arm tucked itself around her midsection, her shoulders pushing upwards. Turning her face from the blades, as many parted around the samurai’s form, one sinks itself through her palm, its tip almost stabbing itself into the side of the mask. Blades slashed and stabbed themselves into the cloth and her body, flesh being cut into. In the darkness, it difficult to see if she had lost too much blood.

Omelia’s fist broke itself against the metal body, a sickening crunching sound escaping itself in the night. Grabbing her broken hand, she snaps it back into place and shakes it off. Taking a few predatory steps towards Cutter, she slows to a stop. As Cutter releases the blades, she rushes forward recklessly, her arms wide. Blades sink into her stomach, chest, and arms. She staggers back, as the dwarf steps out from behind her.

Black Oil poured from the head wound in Cutter's skull. The blade had been lucky enough to not break. Apparently Cutter was in the process of being outfitted with adamatine, but some good that would do her now. As the final lights left the warforged eyes, cutter's chest opened up and a small mechanical bird flew off into the air, quickly vanishing out of view and beyond anyone's ability.

within moments the sound of whistles, and heavy footsteps splashing through the rain can be heard from behind the party.

Two males and a female, wearing the green and black studded leather of Sharn's City Watch, emerge from the rain-drenched night. The leader, a powerfully built bald dwarf with a close cropped beard, steps forward, leveling his crossbow in your direction. The small ball of arcane light, hovering just above and behind his left shoulder, illuminates the area. To each side, a human male and female stand with halberds at the ready.

"Olladra's bloody nose!" the dwarf curses, "By order of the Watch! Drop your weapons and explain yourselves!"

Adrik pulled his Searing Dagger from the skull of the War Forge, "thanks for the assist..." He gave a wink to Frog as his muscles continued to bulge with bull strength, he would have patted Aearoin on the shoulder but the Mer was invisible. When the other dwarves appeared Adrik looked up and spat at them, "by order of what watch?" Looking to Frog to back him up again and assuming the bard would too.

Upon hearing the whistle of the guards approach, Zhouken closed his eyes and focused his mind. Repeating a mantra he had learned long ago. The flames disappeared quickly, just in time as the guards gathered within sighted range of them all.

"There is no need for hostilities officer." Zhouken replied as he stepped forward towards the dwarf. He quickly sheathed his weapon and held it out before him as a sign of good faith. "We are not the ones responsible for the death of that man your men are standing over. This warforged here, is the culprit. She murdered him, and attempted to ambush us to cover her tracks.

As Zhouken attempted to plead the group's case for the dwarf, he slid the journal behind him, slowly enough to avoid detection, and hoped someone else would grab it.

Frog’s free hand grasped the dagger lodged in her right hand. Pulling it slowly outwards, she drops it and shifts her mask to face the watch. Omelia lay upon the ground, in the dark, daggers decorating her body. Frog’s hand draws itself along the partially ripped cloth, her mouth quietly speaking under her mask, “Odutirhclup roiretni sutci, ruterereg mulleb rutetcesnoc..” Her chest lifted and fell in a steady breath, as her hand moved over the small cuts in her cloth; what pale skin that was revealed soon mended, “I do apologize for my associates. We had little choice but to execute our attacker, driven as they were.”

Frog’s dark cloth covered arm sweeps towards Omelia’s form, after it holds itself upwards to signal for a pause, “But it seems our attacker’s weapons have wounded my servant. If you know of a safe location, I will be able to tend to her wounds. Once a safe location is found, I will require assistance to carry her. It is best to move her after a location is found, as she could bleed out with too much unnecessary movement. I would not wish to bother you with our problems, but I am afraid her time is short.” Frog’s gaze lingers on the dwarven officer, “Will you be able to escort me to such a location? My associates will not leave this location..” Her mask turns to face the others, her voice remaining cordial, “Should you wish to return and question them.” Drifting back towards the dwarf, "I do not know if there are more assailants within the area. Remaining in split, equal groups is best for our safety."


{Frog casts Enhanced Diplomacy, and Tap Inner Beauty for -super- diplomacy.}

With the Warforged dead, Aearion had not gone visible yet. Only when the guards arrived did he reappear with a knife sticking out of his arm and a ninja star right where his kidney should be. With a grunt and a groan he pulled the two weapons out, his face clearly indicating that didn't exactly tickle.

Aearion took deep breaths before he attempted to stand up again."Officers... This was an assassin... It *cough* It killed some sort of college professor. You can see for yourselves, our weapons won't match the victim's wounds..."

The dwarf was silent for a moment. As if wondering weather the information he was getting was indeed the correct one. Frog's words and the clear appearance of the injuries of the group the dwarf lowered his crossbow.

"Officers. Help these two up. We can get you all looked at by the House J rep we keep on staff back there. As for your story. I believe you. Especially after seein the metal body over here. I'm sorry for the trouble, but we will still have to bring you back for paperworks sake though." The dwarf told them as both other officers helped Frog and her compatriot to their feet, and began to head towards the edge of the bridge. The dwarf waited to escort the rest of the group as well.

Frog was standing, but she graciously accepted the guard's hand, "Thank you kindly" escaped her mask. Curling her fingers about the guard's hand, she walks, while Omelia staggers to her feet. Her grip upon the guard's hand was strong and she pulled herself upwards. The daggers still lingered in her body, but the bleeding stopped quickly. They walked after the guards; Frog's hand hovered over her form, just above the chest, a faint light glowing from her hand. Beneath her cloth, her wounds closed slowly.

"My thanks, sir." The Merman spoke, relieved. Usually guards were not as trusting. He was glad this one was."We'll come along. I know the ordeal of bureaucracy, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble." He said with a soft chuckle, which quickly disappeared as he tried to heal the wounds in his arms.

The dwarf kept a small lead ahead of the group as he escorted them back to the precinct. "The name is Sergeant Dolom. These two here are. Arthur and Allison. We'll get you all looked over by H-J Jenny. She's our resident healer, Sharn pays her well to keep us all healthy. Just hold on a little while longer ok. Sorry about the attitude earlier, but you can understand of course why I was a bit suspicious."

"Yea because you're up for the official inquisitive position that just opened up Dolom." Arthur remarked.

"Hush it. No one asked you." Dolom remarked.

Frog's mask nodded, once, "It is nice to meet you, Sergeant. Thank you, again, for lending your assistance." Omelia pulls a dagger from her shoulder and casts it to the side of the road, moving to stand beside Frog's form. Frog holds her hand outwards and Omelia grasps the umbrella. She stands up straight and holds the umbrella over Frog's head. Waving the words away, Frog's hand bends at the wrist, "I understand. A hopeful inquisitor must have a pristine public appearance. The elections for such are very crucial and attacks upon this settlement would certainly disrupt them."

As they walked, Frog's gloved hand draws itself along her masked cheek, "I would never wish for your position to be stalled. If there are any known areas of concern near here.." A short pause, "I am a very experienced in handling rogues of all kinds and my travelling companions would most likely be willing and able, after a moment of respite."