Sellas flinched backward as the [Knight] crumpled. Splinters of the chair she'd hit him with whizzed by her ear, and the man's armor hit the floor with a clatter. She'd just barely managed to get the jump on him— had he turned a second earlier, she wouldn't have been able to make the lunge.

Taking a deep breath, Sellas hurried to take the man's sword. She hadn't had the chance to grab anything truly substantial after being surprised by the opening door, but gods be damned if she didn't arm herself now. Setting it off to her side, she stretched over the top of him to grab the bag at his waist. There was a latch to the back of it, but after a moment of focus, she got it unhooked. There wasn't anything specific she was checking for, but—

"Drop the bag and step away. Now."

Crap.

Sellas froze, still half-crouched over the fallen [Knight]'s arm. The voice had come from behind her. She should've expected it— he'd been talking when he walked in. Now, she was screwed.

Opening her grip, Sellas let the bag fall against the man's breastplate. It clanked and slid to the floor as she pushed herself away, craning her head back to view who had spoken.

It... wasn't another [Knight].

A tall, ashen-skinned woman stood in the doorway— there was no sword in hand or metal armor worn. Instead, her hand was raised towards Sellas's chest, and the center of her palm crackled with power. She jerked her head to the side as Sellas made eye contact. "Move to a table and sit— we'll deal with you in a minute. Gregan, go check on Enrick. It looked like she got him pretty good."

Sellas's eyes flickered as a younger man exited the woman's shadow. She'd messed up— stepped out of the corner and straight into these other two's view. One down, and two more in his place. Gritting her teeth, Sellas slipped reluctantly into a seat.

"Palms down. If I see you pulling together a spell, I'll blast you across the room." The woman's words were clipped, and her expression was frigid as she glanced towards and back from the man on the ground.

Splaying her hands flat against the rough wood of the tabletop, Sellas's thoughts flew awhirl. They... might not actually be [Knights]. Still, though, things were looking just the same; more people and a metaphorical sword to her neck once again. She could jump up— try to run. But there wasn't anywhere to go; the woman blocked the door, and even if Sellas made it past, the flower field and the door's boundary range would stop her cold. The three had come inside, and now she was stuck with them.

Sellas ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth, then forcefully shifted her attention to the second still-conscious stranger in the room. Gregan, the woman had called him. That'd make Enrick the one she'd hit with the chair.

The first of the two was kneeling over the second now. His hands hovered around the sides of the other man's head. As Sellas watched, Gregan closed his eyes, and his arms began to glow. "Look's like some nasty bruising on the top here, but he actually seems pretty fine. I'd say he got the edge of his shield up, but honestly? Enrick's Skills might just be that good. Hold up for a second, Kate, and I'll get him standing."

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Digging through a pouch at his waist, Gregan pulled out a bottle and waved it under Enrick's nose. "Come on, man— up and at 'em. You didn't get hit that hard, and we're going to want you conscious here."

Sellas frowned at the man's words. All things considered, she thought she'd done pretty well for herself. Not that she didn't think she could've hit him harder, but, well—

On his next breath, Enrick's body shuddered. The transition between his unconscious and waking state took place in a snap, and when he jerked upright, he nearly knocked the bottle from his friend's hand. Eyes watering, he looked around the room and winced. His hand reached up towards the top of his head. "Gods damn, that fucking hurts."

"There we go!" Tucking the smelling salts away again, Gregan slapped against Enrick's back. "Wiggle your fingers for me— you see anything in double?"

Enrick pushed the other man's hand away. "No. Gods, please be quiet for a second." With a loud groan, he stood, cracking his neck from side to side. He sucked in a deep lung-full of breath, then twisted to look at Sellas, still sitting rigidly in her chair. His eyes squinted at the scene.

Sellas glared back at him, then leaned away as his eyes flashed.

Shaking his head, and with another groan, Enrick pinched at his nose. "Kate, drop the lightning bolt." Following his words, there was a visible pause in the room, but he frowned as both she and Sellas blinked at him. "I'm serious— let it go. You're threatening a [Barkeeper]. She's level six."

In an instant, Kate's hand was aimed towards the ground. "You're kidding. No combat Class?"

"Not even a village [Hunter]."

Sellas blinked in befuddlement as the woman who'd been threatening to 'blast her across the room' took a step backward, only to rub at her neck in chagrin.

"Well hell, sorry about that. I thought you were a [Mage], or maybe a [Rogue], with how you snuck up on Enrick. You can stand up if you want to— just uh, don't go trying to pick up a knife or anything."

Eyes shifting from Enrick to Gregan, then back again over to Kate, Sellas pushed herself slowly out of her chair. "Um, thank you...?" She shook herself. "No. Stop. Who are you people? Why are you in my bar— how'd you even find this place?"

The three looked back at her in vague confusion, frowns evident on each of their faces.

"The door you've got leading in isn't exactly camouflaged, you know. We thought it'd be an abandoned house or something— maybe a den, or even just a place to stay some nights. No big mystery on that point. What about you, though? Do you often go around hitting guests with chairs?"

"I didn't— I don't—" Sputtering in indignation, Sellas turned towards Gregan— the one who'd spoken. "You're not guests! I don't even know who you are!"

The man raised an eyebrow, then pointed to himself. "My name's Gregan. I'm a [Druid]." Still pointing, he gestured to the other two members of his group in turn. "That's Kate — she's a [Mage] — and Enrick over here is out resident [Protector]." He folded his hands together. "How about you?"

Sellas felt about ready to scream. She'd knocked one of them unconscious with an oaken chair and had only just stopped being threatened by the group's mage, and now they wanted to exchange names? Swallowing back her frustration, she pushed against her disbelief. "I'm Sellas. I'm a [Barkeeper], like you said."

"Well, that's great. Glad we're all caught up." Rubbing at his head with a pained scowl, Enrick interrupted the two's back and forth, slipping into a chair opposite of where Sellas had been. "Now though, assuming that you don't attack everyone you meet, I'm guessing you had a reason to try hitting me with a chair?"

Caught off-guard, Sellas grimaced at the question.

"Yeah, I sort of figured." Scrunching his eyes together, Enrick seemed to take her reaction as confirmation. He grumbled to himself and slipped his hand into one of the pouches at his waist, having it emerge a second later with a bottle of red, shimmering liquid, which he uncorked and sipped at briefly before returning to its bag. As his expression loosened in muted relief, he huffed out a breath and turned to look Sellas in the eyes.

"So then. Do you mind telling us who you'd expected to fight today?"