“You’ve been the snake in my operation for far too long Zacharias,” Sykes said silkily as the Elf turned his attention back to his captive. The pathetic Halfling still managed to look smug, even with blood dripping down his face, sitting on the metal chair like he owned the place. He obviously thought that he still stood some sort of chance at escape. While Sykes would love to see him go toe to toe with the Golem and watch him be torn apart limb from limb, it would be much more satisfying to do the job himself.

“You’re a clever thief I must admit,” Sykes continued. He put his arms around his back and started to pace in front of Zacharias slowly. “But it was only a matter of time that you would try to steal something above your skill level. We all know that you wish to usurp me as the Dragon Blood supplier in Dray’Mel. It’s an honorable aspiration, albeit a lofty one.”

“Well someone’s gotta know what they’re doing around here,” Zacharias replied, half choking on the blood in his mouth.

“And that would be you, correct?” Sykes chuckled. “You have so much to learn, Halfling. Your conceited ways will always be your undoing. You think stealing my main supply would be as simple as overhearing some cronies in a tavern?”

Zach tried to open his mouth and let out a snarky` comment, but the pain overcame him. Spitting to the side, Zacharias could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

“And yet here we are,” Sykes motioned around the small room with a flourish. “As you said earlier, we’ve known each other a long time now,” He continued with a smirk. “And as such, you’ll know that I live by very few rules in my life,” He leaned over his victim slightly, a shiver of excitement tingled through him as he started to see a flicker of genuine fear in the Halfling’s eyes. “One rule I hold very dear to me is quite simple…” He took hold of either side of Zach’s head taking great care to ensure the metal hook held in his right hand dug into the half-man’s cheek, piercing it. “An eye for an eye…”

With that, Sykes tightened his grip and thrust his remaining thumb into Zacharias’ left eye, driving it deep into the socket. Zacharias let out a satisfyingly loud scream of pain as Sykes felt the pressure of his thumb rupture the eyeball beneath it.

Zacharias continued to howl in agony as Sykes calmly withdrew his thumb. A loud, wet squelching sound could be heard, despite the Halfling’s screams. As blood started to course from the eye socket, Sykes calmly withdrew a kerchief from the pocket of his coat and wiped his thumb clean.

Zach watched the movement through his remaining eye, his field of vision drastically shortened. He opened his mouth but instead of a witty rejoinder, all he could do was moan. He could feel the blood running down his cheek, the sharp pain that blossomed where his left eye had been.

For a moment of time, all he could feel was agony, pervading through his body and twisting his guts. But even in his half-lucid state, Zacharias felt a sudden flare of power burst up from behind him.

Head hanging low from the shock of his wounds, he could only barely make out a look of surprise on Sykes's face, before a loud, grating boom resounded out. Flinching in his chair, Zacharias watched as Sykes began desperately conjuring runes in the air, but before he could finish a spell, a blur of movement rammed into him with incredible force.

“I’ll kill ye! Ya wee bastard!” He heard Winifred cry out as she and Sykes hit the floor. Zach lifted his head, careful to make sure he didn’t move too much and tried his best to ignore the dizziness that threatened to overtake him. Winifred and Sykes were tussling on the floor, her hands were wrapped around his neck.

Even in his weakened, injured state, he could tell there was something different about the brawler. She seemed...more powerful somehow. He slowly turned to look at Ornn, wondering how the hell she’d been able to escape the unyielding grasp of a Golem. He got his answer pretty fucking quick.

Ornn was standing in the same spot but his arms were mostly destroyed, two small stumps of broken stone and rubble moving ineffectively from his torso. The damned construct seemed almost confused, unsure of how to follow Sykes commands without arms to hold anyone with. The sight was almost comical if Zach ignored just how much raw power it would take to overpower Ornn in a contest of strength.

“Bloody hell!” He muttered to himself deliriously. “How the Hells did she do that?”

He groggily attempted to look back towards his captor and his savior both, but the stress and pain finally caught up with him. Lolling backward in his seat, darkness claimed his remaining eye, and Zacharias fell deep into unconsciousness.

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

Pathetic.

That’s all she could think about herself as she dangled in Ornn’s large stone arms. She hadn’t even been worth paying attention to. Sykes had immediately ignored her attempt to break free of the situation. It was as if the mere idea of her attacking wasn’t even worthy of his notice.

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Relegated to the sidelines, she was forced to watch as Zach quipped and joked through his pain. Even as the blood poured down his face and the blades burned into his flesh. Taking a deep breath, Winifred turned her gaze inwards, watching her small supply of Mana slowly start to spread through her body.

What could she do? Nearly Mana-less and held hostage by a Golem that was easily twice as strong as she was? Gritting her teeth, Winifred snapped open her eyes and tried to wrench herself free. Blackmaul would be ashamed of her for giving up so easily. She tried her hardest to rip her left arm from Ornn’s vice-like grip. It was a poor idea at best but, at that moment, it was all that she had.

As she expected, the Golem barely even moved and simply tightened its grip to almost excruciating levels. She felt the bones in her wrist shifting under the pressure. Softly gasping, she ceased the struggling and was happy to discover that Ornn softened his grip in return. Whatever Sykes had done to make the Golem turn against them, at least the Elf hadn’t managed to turn Ornn as sadistic as he was.

“Brute strength is nae the answer,” She muttered to herself. “But what else? All I do is break things…s’all I can do.”

In her mind’s eye, Winifred recalled the many times that she’d been told off back when she lived with her parents. A particularly painful memory that surfaced was when her Mother had yelled at her for almost an hour because she’d been practicing her moves and a wayward kick had accidentally connected with one of her Mother’s beloved vases.

“I mean really Winifred! Why must you always act so undignified? It’s like you live to break things!”

Scoffing lightly and trying to ignore the sting of her Mother’s words that she felt even now, she instead turned her thoughts to her fallen mentor, Blackmaul. The old Dwarf had covered dozens of ways to break free of a stronger being’s grip. Unfortunately, they all required a certain degree of strength that, despite her years of pit fighting, hardly matched up to Ornn’s grip.

She was up against her own limits. Her body betrayed her mind. If she was just a bit stronger…just a bit faster…Closing her eyes for a brief moment of respite, she fought to tune out Zacharias’ painful screams until all that she could hear at that moment was her own beating heart.

“Screw it, I dinnae reckon ye can hear me Ornn, but if yer actually sentient…I’m sorry about what I’m about tae do…”

Yet another long shot. But that was all she had. What was it that Blackmaul always used to say? You can’t hit a target that you don’t aim for, no matter how impossible it may seem. Grinning to herself, Winifred kicked back against Ornn’s chest once more, trying to squeeze out what little bit of leverage she could.

Unflinching once again, Ornn simply re-doubled his grip, grinding the bones in Winifred’s wrist against themselves, causing the pain to flare up through her arms. The Pit Fighter simply grit her teeth however and kept going, fighting through the pain.

Surely but surely, she struggled to break Ornn’s vice-like grip, the Golem beginning to be bowed over from the sheer pressure. Spidery little cracks began to spread up his forearms, and yet he still held tight as commanded.

Lurching forward as the veins in her temple started to throb from the sheer exertion, Winifred opened her eyes just in time to see Sykes’ thumb sink into Zach’s skull, the Halfling letting out yet another blood-curdling scream of pain.

“Fuck this! Ye bloody stone bastard! Is that all ye’ve got Orrn? Ya dobber!” Winifred muttered, now slightly delirious from the pain. She wanted to scream and cry out herself. It was becoming rapidly obvious that she was getting nowhere fast. But she couldn’t give up. Not now. “I’m getting the Hells outta here alive damn ye! Even if I have tae shatter ye into pieces!”

Straining with all her might, Winifred could feel her focus draining. The last of her Mana was beginning to swirl away. Scoffing to herself, and keeping Blackmaul’s words of encouragement in her mind, she redoubled her efforts. Her left wrist crumpled, the bones fracturing as pain lanced through her arm. It went limp as she pulled it loose from its own socket.

Yet still, she pushed off with all that she had left, straining against her limits.

“Gods damn it Ornn! Why won’t ye fuckin’ let go? Ye useless pile of rubble. Why. Won’t. Ye. Break!”

A surge of strength suddenly started to flow through her. From where it came, she didn’t have the time to question. Instead, working with it, she kicked Ornn backward. The Golem stumbled as she ripped her right arm free, Ornn’s massive hand shattering as her fist plowed through his stone grip.

Landing on the ground, Winifred brought her fist down on the Golem’s left wrist, shattering the stone as easily as though it were glass. As Ornn fell backwards, it’s stubs raised in confusion, Winifred turned towards Sykes with a snarl.

At a speed far beyond her normal abilities, she plowed into the Elven Mage as though she were a wild Minotaur possessed with rage. They collapsed to the ground in a heap and she took the chance to mount the dazed spellweaver.

Shouting out in incoherent rage, she grabbed the dagger-eared prick by his neck and squeezed until she heard the satisfying sound of bone snapping under her broken thumbs.

Rolling off him and getting to her feet, she lifted the now limp body of the crime lord and slammed his smug face into the ground. She did it again and again, over and over until his head burst like an overripe melon, sending bits of his brain and skull across the tiles.

Heaving and grunting with rage, Winifred fell to her knees beside the headless corpse. She breathed heavily, sucking in as much air as she could. A strong sense of exhaustion suddenly washed over her like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was all-encompassing and she wanted nothing more than to lay down on the filthy stone floors and sleep.

Falling bonelessly to the floor, she couldn’t help but grin to herself despite how tired she felt even as she felt her consciousness begin to fade...

“Serves ye right, ye fucking muppet.”