Tyrion peered cautiously from behind the building, ducking his head back down again. "Can't see him, it's not light enough."

"He's on the roof across from us." Anna slips the rod from her side, a visible rainbow of energy swirling within the citrine atop it. "Can you maybe try sneaking around while I distract him, get him from both sides?"

"An excellent idea. Just be careful. No telling what they can do." The halfling squeezes the elf's free hand, and she returns the gesture before he dashes off around the back of the shop they'd used as cover.

Anna focuses the swirling energy and moves around the corner. The bolt looses from the stranger's crossbow, and Anna instinctively shoots a rainbow of force outward, surprising herself when a second swirling beam ejects in tandem with the first. Sailing through the air, the first blast hits the stranger in the shoulder with the second bursting against his chest.

Anna simultaneously cries out, the stranger's bolt skewering through her armor and catching the elf in the stomach. With a whimper, she slinks behind the corner again. Her hands filling with a pale glow, energy surging into her body to ease the pain before she yanks the bolt out with a gasp. "Tyrion! They've got s-something in their shots!" Fingers twitch, arms shake, and the elf backs into the wall with a deep breath.

"Are you alright?" The halfling shouts back.

"No, but I'll live! Probably!"

Tyrion slips to the edge of the alleyway between the shop and another building. The distance is too great for an accurate shot; he can barely spot the silhouette of their assailant, much less hit him. Throwing his hood up, the halfling looks out beyond the alley. "Let's see you spot me now, sunshine..."

Anna waits a few seconds, peering back out again. Enlarged pupils focus on the roof across the street. No movement, no figures in the dark. All has gone quiet in the growing morning. Down the road, the light of the sun begins to peek over the horizon. "Tyrion!" She speaks almost in a whisper. "I think he's gone!"

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Tyrion slips his head around the corner, the light gradually shifting to allow him a better view of the empty square. "I think you're right!"

"And I think you're wrong." A soft feminine voice speaks from behind him, a pointed object pressing against the back of his neck. Tyrion raises his arms slowly in response, crossbow tightly held in his grip. "There's a good lad. We'll make this nice and quick, spare ourselves a prolonged encounter if you please, Mister Autumnsong."

The halfling breathes deep. "Got behind me, did you? Clever girl. Never even heard you."

"That's cause I'm good at my job, sir. Now would you kindly drop your weapon? Slowly, if you catch my meaning." The blade pokes into his neck.

"Alright, alright, I'm droppin` it now." Judging by the angle, she's of a similar height to himself. Halfling? Gnome? He's not certain. Lowering the crossbow to the ground, he sets it gently down. "Easy now, lass. This doesn't have to end in bloodshed."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong. We've been paid handsomely to help you see the Dread Lord, sir. Can't go disappointing a client once the contract's made."

"My apologies. I meant to say that the blood being shed won't be mine." In a fluid motion, Tyrion turns, drawing the knife from his boot with his old initials carved into it, and swings. The hooded figure backs up to avoid the attack, returning the favor with two strikes of a shortsword. The first thrusts toward thin air where Tyrion had only just been, the second swiping at the stone of the shop's wall. "Anna, there's one here with me!"

"Same!" The elf shouts, giving a firm shove to the figure attempting to stab at her, knocking them into a wall and backing into the main thoroughfare. "Came up behind me!"

"That makes three at least!" Tyrion tumbles to avoid another attack, finding himself in the street again. "Maybe we run?"

"Or we wait for the others to get here!" Swirling blue energy forms in the citrine of Anna's rod, a deep cold permeating the air before an icy layer forms over her body.

The two figures slip from each side of the shop, blades dripping with the same oily black substance as the crossbow bolts before. The taller of the pair turns to the shorter one and shrugs, speaking in a masculine growl. "We can take `em easy enough. Ready for round two?"

"Of course, my paleblood friend." The short one responds, laying her sword across her arm to prepare for a thrust.

"I don't think we're gonna be able to run, Tyrion." Anna steps back a little, eyes shifting between each of the figures warily.

"No, lass, I don't think so either. Round two indeed. Ready yourself!" The halfling grips his knife tightly. "Come on then!" He shouts, stepping forward to attack!