The charred corpse of the Drauga was tossed into the sky, along with three of his companions. A grey-scaled rocket went a dozen feet in the air, black trails following him up, and then plummeting downwards.

Kelvin and Kor'Ak managed to bear the shockwave, with their bodies pressed against the ground, they weren't thrown back, and Kor'Ak's heavy armour kept him weighed down the floor even more; Steal however, was not so lucky, his little green body was lifted off of the spear and sent flying a few feet backwards.

A number of the bandits that remained, including the ones with blades to the party's throats were blown away with him, four managed to brace themselves and keep their footing.

It took all of five seconds for the robbers to realise what was going on, and it took another two for them to react.

However, it took Kor'Ak all of three seconds to scramble onto his feet, ears ringing, vision still dizzy; the bandit's hadn't managed to tie him up again, but his arms hung almost uselessly at his sides anyways.

"Spatial Swap!" The roar left Kelvin's mouth the second his bomb went off. When Kor'AK turned to look at his employer, he saw one of the bandits, an axe still in hand, though with his hand bound together by rope, it wouldn't do much.

The blonde wizard was blown backwards, having swapped with one of the bandits affected by the blast; his body went limp as he hit the dirt off one side of the road, four bandits lay on the ground beside him, though one's skull was seeping blood, head cracked awakwardly against the trunk of a tree.

Steal was a hell of a lot luckier than that bandit, the leaves of a roadside tree rustled as he was catapulted into them, snapping branches as he went, deafened by the hail of stone that hit the ground after the Dragonman's fall, all that was left of the metal box was a few shards of shrapnel, nestled nicely in a three-foot wide crater in the road.

A bandit had managed to keep his footing and charged at Kor'Ak, his spear stabbed at Kor'Ak. but the warrior, even in his condition managed to batter the spear away with his battered and crushed gauntlet. A weighty kick to the stomach got the robber away from him, knocked on his ass by Kor'Ak's kick. He felt an axe batter into his side from behind, steel bent, but kept him safe; he could feel the world going dark, struggling to keep his footing steady, he couldn't keep fighting like thi-.

"Turn Back The Clock!" The wizard was up, left-palm extended towards Kor'Ak as his free arm dove into a pocket on his waistcoat. The Djaal could feel bones knit together. Well, actually, he was lucky he couldn't feel it; his body was drowned in surreal numbness, like anesthesia pouring through his veins. His blood felt icy, but he could feel it, something similar to Adrenaline Boost, which he didn't have enough mana for.

Buff Bestowed: Turn Back The Clock

Status Effect Applied: -25% Max HP (23H 59M 59S)

All Status Conditions, Damage, Illnesses and Injuries within the last 20 seconds have been removed.

All HP damage suffered in the last 20 seconds has been removed.

The warrior felt a little dizzy, his eyes still drowsy, but he flexed his hand, no pain, just an odd, sort of fuzzy numbness.

Kor'Ak wield on his previous assailant, fist crashing against the man's nose, the strike was met by a howl of pain and a fountain of blood, Kor'Ak struck the man again, this time gripping his wrist and twisting it roughly until the bandit's grip on his weapon loosened; another heavy fist crunched into the man's chest as Kor'Ak catched the falling axe, promptly lodging it's head in the wounded robber's skull.

"Mr Gale, Catch!" The warrior wheeled around to see Kelvin throwing a shield like a discus towards him, it would seem he'd just finished executing the three bandits sprawled across the roadside, his once 'stylish' black waistcoat now painted a somewhat less-fashonable scarlet.

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The warrior took hold of the shield before wheeling back on the dead bandit, roughly yanking the axe back out of his skull, it's bladed edge was smeared both with sticky lifeblood, and a pinkish mush.

Nine down. Seven Left. C'mon man, you've got this.

four of the bandits looked at the bloody carnage that lay around them, their brothers in crime and arms lay dead, dispatched with concerning ease, the sound of boots hitting stone met Kor'Ak's ears as they turned heel and sprinted off into the woods, one crying, another screaming in fear, whilst the last two merely muttered to themselves.

Well, three left then.

Kor'Ak watched one of the remaining bandits run towards another for protection, the man he was running to swung an empty hand a few inches away from his more fearful compatriots next.

The bandit collapsed to the ground, gargling on crimson ichor as a sticky red river poured from his throat.

The image wavered, first, a dagger appeared in the bandit's hand where nothing had previously been, his shaved head grew out into thick blonde hair, a top-hat slowly materialising atop it; a dirty tunic shimmered in the air, morphing into a bloodied red waistcoat, filth-covered brown pants became sequined, shiny and black.

Two?

The final bandit still standing, with the other bound on the ground, still struggling, looked between Kor'Ak and Kelvin.

"M-m-monsters!" like the others before him, he turned and ran. Sadly interrupted when a thin blade flew in a neat arc from Kelvin's outstretched hand, lodging itself rather neatly between the fleeing man's spine. The wizard began stepping towards the man, who'd toppled to the cobblestones, trying to pull the dagger out of his spine as he clambered desperately to his feet.

"I wouldn't pull it out if I were you, it's probably all that's keeping you together now" a dark chuckle erupted from the once jovial and bright wizard; his thin, delicate fingers locked themselves around the bandit's throat. "Besides, who are you to call us the monsters? Are we the one's that attacked you? captured you, tried to rob you and made an unfair bet so we could take your lives?"

"A-a-a"

The man's head made a sickening crunch as it was mercilessly dashed against the cobbles, over and over again. Apparently satisfied of his work when the bandit's body went limp and lifeless, Kelvin turned on Kor'Ak "So.... where's the witch?"

"The witch?"

The sound of something fragile and frail smashing, like glass rang through the surrounding area, punctuated by a gurgling "Gra O' Ga Gi Grakata"

A voice that echoed and vibrated like a metal sheet being beaten with a hammer burst into being the very moment the sound of something-glassy hitting stone stopped, it was a distinctly female voice, though each syllable rolled and slurred as it pronounced it's words. "Slothful Miasma!"

A purple fog rolled over the ground, tiny, grasping, gaseous hands grabbed at Kor'Ak, trying to snake up to his mouth, the same went for Kelvin, though he was a little later on covering his mouth and holding his breath, the blonde was already coughing and spluttering, he keeled over in pain, face nearly dipping down into the fog as more hands splashed against his skin, misty tendrils slithering into his nostrils. The wizard fell below the fog.

Something cracked against Kor'Ak's stomach, as he buckled over and gasped for air, he saw a tiny, green creature within the mist, wearing some kind of respiratory headgear. A goblin, though not like Steal. It's skin had a paler hue, postules of pus sprouted on it's skin and odd growths of cartilage erupted at random from it's flesh.

Purple tendrils pushed their way into Kor'Ak's lungs, he felt his vision fade, his lungs, full of this magical smog felt empty. He coughed and gasped, it only made it worse. The Djaal's hands clenched to fists as he tried to raise himself above the miasma. His arm's faltered, and he collapsed to the stone again.

"Fu..." Kor'Ak's mind finally rested, his eyes with it.

----------------------------------------

Steal finally managed to untangle himself from a branch, his cloth robe tearing and dropping him onto one of the thicker branches of the tree. He watched on a purple fog seeped into the earth. a dozen, pale green creatures just like him grabbed at the clothes of his unconscious companionsm, as well as the still-living, bound bandit, dragging them off into the woods. Steal watched intently, fingers slipping to the dagger at his side.

He had to save the dark one, it was the one that gave him many shiny things, many stabby things, and many delicious things... It was an odd occurence, for a goblin to feel something such as gratitude, even odder for a creature with such a greedy and selfish nature to feel indebted. Nevertheless, Steal silently worked his way down the tree trunk, clawed fingers giving him grip.

One of the gross, diseased looking goblins howled to the rest of it's kin in it's goblinoid tongue, finally, something Steal could understand. "Poxmother shall want them, yes she will, we take them back for caring mother, yes, yes we do"