"Fuck."

"You've said that about ten times now." I said, sat up against the wall.

The chanting was still going on, as was the annoying speech the priest was making, but it was starting to sound like it was nearly time to cut the turkey.

"Well whadda fuck do we do!?" Jill whispered to me. She crawled up and grabbed me by the collar, shaking me a bit, "How are we supposed to get dat necklace?!"

"And. Save the harpy." I added.

"Right. Obviously. Right yeah. Save da harpy too. 'Course."

I wasn't a half-bad fighter. The problem was that I wasn't half good either. And I had a distaste for murder. I thought that was a pretty reasonable compunction to have when I got into second story work and asset reallocation, but some folks seem to think otherwise. The point was that I wasn't going to barge in with a greatsword and slay all the cultists and fuck the nude harpy on the sacrificial altar like some kind of Barbarian Hero.

So, as with every hitch in any plan, the solution was improvisation.

"A distraction. A lot of chaos." I said, with a short pause between, "We're in a mansion, once we're out on the street, who cares what happens? We only need a few minutes of chaos to get in and get out with the Harpy and the Necklace."

"You wanna start up a pigsty?"

"We'll be long gone before any cops show up!"

"And what about da bird?" Jill motioned towards the banister, and I was reminded of the encroaching time limit.

"She can fly off once we have the necklace! Any coppers that show up will just see a bunch of cultists. We'll leave the paperwork to them. As for you..." I pulled my satchel around and reached inside, pulling out the rope and passing it to her, "Tie this around the banister." I took my knife, and bit down on the handle.

"Now, brother..." Rang out the voice of the Low Priest, "Hand to me the dagger, that shall invoke the passions, and fill the stone with her wonderful pain..."

The harpy on the table struggled with even more vigor, the leather straps holding her nude body down not straining much under the hollow boned assault. Her shrieks of fear and rage were entirely muffled by the gag that had been lodged in her mouth. The necklace was warm against her skin, uncomfortably so.

Her beautiful breasts bounced side to side as her chest swayed, glistening perfectly in the dark cultists' candle light.

Time slowed for her when she looked up and saw the two figures on the overhang, one tying something to the banister while the other seemed to be hyping himself up. The dagger did not even begin its descent to her when the little ball was tossed over the precipice.

In but a moment, smoke had flooded the room, sending the priests into a chaotic struggle. Cultist fought his fellows in a sudden melee, those who weren't lost to the fog were desperately trying to calm the others. That's when the rope suddenly descended, and with it, the dashing hero.

Callum landed right onto the table, feet at either side of the harpy's head, and with a pirouette, smashed the Low Priest in the face and took the dagger as it flung from his outstretched hand.

With two slashes, the harpy's wings were free. He hopped across the table, nimbly dodging the swing of a mace and kicking the melee cultist in the jaw, twisting him around and sending him scattered to the ground.

The legs were cut free, and Callum only paused to punch another approaching cultist before hoisting the beautiful harpy into his arms bridal style. He pulled loose the gag. "You're safe now, my feathered beauty." He said, his eyes smoldering and his muscles rippling.

With a fluttering giggle, she squealed in joy and kissed him on the cheek as he hopped off of the table and slid around the melee of cultists, back up the stairs, and to certain freedom.

At least. It would've been really nice if that'd happened, y'know?

Okay, fine.

Stolen novel; please report.

So, I did throw a smoke bomb over the edge, and it landed with a little snap. Smoke flooded out of it, and the cultists were immediately put into hostility. Smoke bombs usually aren't that great at speed, though, but I had about as much chaos as I was going to get.

Acting fast, I threw over the rope and grabbed onto the end, preparing to loose myself down.

Which was when the banister snapped.

I fell.

I think, and this is a really big 'think', that I beamed myself on the side of the sacrificial table. I know for a fact I landed on the floor face up, and that my left side has been sore all goddamn night. The other thing I know is that a cultist immediately almost stepped on my head. I rolled out of the foot's way, now lost in the smoke of my own creation. I also noticed, at that moment, that I had lost my dagger when I hit the ground.

I popped up on the other side of the table, and grabbed at the leather binding the harpy. They were belts. Just belts! I loosed one, and her upper wing came free, though the shoulder was still strapped. I grabbed, after that, the gag around her mouth, and yanked it free.

"Behind you, profligate!"

"What?"

I nearly didn't turn around.

Nearly.

I'm glad I did, since I then managed to duck under the Low Priest's dagger.

"Brothers! An intruder has made our ranks! Ready your weapons!"

"Uh, can I get mine back too?" I asked.

That's when Jill landed. I knew it because of the plap of skin against skin, and the squawking of the harpy.

"Shaddup! I'm gettin' ya out, ain't I!?" Jill said, yanking, to my disappointment, on the necklace first.

"Filthy squnt whore, release the Ruby of Ashkatort!" The Dark Priest shouted.

I had to take a second to concentrate, that's the kind of slur you don't hear every day.

It was a pretty long second, and somehow before it was half over, I managed to launch myself to the side, shoving the Low Priest away from the table. His dagger left his hand as he tried to throw it, but my attack sent it spinning into the air.

Jill, in her turn, threw the necklace in the moments before she got back to work on the belts.

Time slowed, for just that one second. That long, eternal second. Before everything changed. Before this whole goddamn shitstorm really started...

The necklace looped around my head. I felt the stinging hot metal fling around my neck and the gem slid down the loose fitting collar and smacked me right in the chest.

That's when the dagger landed, slashing a line across my cheek and stabbing me in the shoulder before bouncing off and landing.

That sting was nothing compared to the sudden surge of fire that flooded my body. I felt a hot emanation from the thing around my neck, a shock of lightning heading from my skin to my heart and down to my stomach before scattering through my bones.

There was a voice just on the edge of hearing, and if I had any say in the matter, I would've made sure it was a lot further off. It sounded like a hyena gargling entrails while scratching a chalkboard, and went straight from the crackling air to my brain.

The ringing in my ear had only lasted a few moments before the Low Priest had my shoulders in his hands. "Fool! Fool! You moron! You absolute insolent- GUH!" The harpy had tackled him.

Her talons ripped and scratched and her sharp keratin lined features pecked across his face, smoke rippling around her, the air filled with the shouts of suffering, and the curses of that low priest bastard.

Jill raised her fists, punching the closest approaching cultist directly in the groin (a classic goblin tactic). She followed this up by grabbing his hood and jumping up just to head butt him with a nice loud crack. He fell back and away.

Cultists or not, rich folk just aren’t built to fight really pissed off goblin heavies.

But then, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I unleashed what had just built up with a scream.

Jill had the presence of mind to grab onto the table, and wasn't thrown into the air. The rest of the cultists, and the harpy for that matter, didn't get the memo.

There were thumps as the cultists hit the walls. One of them, some short stubby bastard holding a ceremonial box, crashed straight through and landed in the cold autumn night, breaking wood and drywall and possibly a few of his own bones on the way. There was one last thump when I myself hit the floor.

Jill, of course, was not having any of it.

"Up! Up! You're up! C'mon!" She grabbed me, slapped me across the face, which only sent another shock of fiery energy out across my chest from the gem. It was more than enough to get off my ass and stand with new vigor. "We are leavin'!" Jill shouted.

"Not yet!" I said, twisting my head around to look for the hostage.

The harpy was struggling to her feet, the Low Priest seemed to have hit his head hard enough to knock his senses out. Or maybe it was lingering harpy-attackitis. I grabbed and got her to her feet.

"Release me!" The harpy shouted.

"Shaddup!" Jill shouted.

"Run!" I finished the argument.

The three of us got through the hole the cultist left, even if I had to grab Jill by the arms to yank her through when her hips got her stuck.

I stomped down without thinking onto the face of the passed out cultist. Jill did so while thinking, making sure to break his nose with her heel on the way out.

And there we were. A poorly dressed thief filled with fire, a pissed off goblin with blood on her ankles, and a screaming nude harpy, scrambling across the richest lawns in this corner of Melodia, desperately escaping the claws of dagger wielding cultists.

And can you believe it? That was the easy part.