Hangovers are the worst

You reach the bin behind the tavern as the struggle surges through the alley. Twenty armored enforcers drive five unarmed men toward the open street with clubs, shields, and sheer numbers.

The noise pounds against your hangover. Metal scrapes brick, boots splash through stale runoff, and your tankard shifts at your hip.

One of the unarmed men catches sight of you and thrusts an arm through the chaos. A shield knocks him sideways before he can reach the alley mouth.

The armored line compresses, hemming the five men against the open street. The captain turns, visor glinting, and notices you beside the bin.

Blazen slips from the bin’s shadow and closes on the captain’s back. His boots scrape once on wet stone, but the armored man turns at the sound.

Blazen’s arms catch the captain around the cuirass, but the armor leaves no room for a proper embrace. He scratches at himself, then retches across the captain’s shoulder and visor.

The captain staggers sideways, swiping blindly at his visor. Two enforcers recoil from him, shields colliding as the armored formation breaks its tight line.

The five prisoners surge through the gap toward the street. The captain tears free of Blazen’s arms, furious and half-blinded, while the nearest enforcers turn after the escapees.

Blazen lunges through the broken formation and clamps both hands around Janus’s armored leg. The enforcer’s stride stops hard, one boot skidding on wet stone.

Janus wrenches at Blazen’s grip, but the monk holds fast. His shield tilts uselessly as three enforcers sprint after the five escapees into the street.

Blazen’s cry rolls through the alley and spills into the tavern doorway. The guard looks from his gripping hands to Janus’s armor as three enforcers continue chasing the five escapees into the street.

The guard steps between Janus and the street, planting his cudgel across the enforcer’s path. Janus’s shield arm lowers, and his pursuit ends beneath the tavern’s scrutiny.

The shout tears at Blazen’s throat, leaving his voice raw. His tankard knocks against Janus’s greave, spilling a mouthful of ale onto the stones.

Blazen releases Janus’s leg and springs after the three armed enforcers. His first stride slips in the spilled ale, scraping his palm against the wet stones.

Blazen barrels through the tavern doorway and into the street, gut bouncing, breath rasping. The three enforcers remain ahead, their boots hammering toward the fleeing prisoners.

He gains on them before the next corner, closing the distance with quick, ugly efficiency. The three armed men are now within his reach, with the escaped five farther ahead.

The three enforcers keep chasing the five escapees, boots striking sparks from the street stones as the next corner draws near.

Blazen’s breath comes hard, but no inner current answers his reaching awareness. The familiar pressure behind his fists remains absent.

His ki is not yet available. The chase stays an ordinary contest of footing, speed, balance, and strength.

The prisoners vanish briefly beyond the turning street. The three armored pursuers do not slow, their formation narrowing as they pursue.

Behind them, the tavern guard still holds Janus in the alley, leaving Blazen alone with the chase and the hard limits of his body.

Blazen cuts across the street and plants himself before the nearest enforcer, blocking the alleyward line. The armored man checks his charge, boots scraping against stone.

The enforcer raises his shield, but Blazen’s broad stance fills the passage. Behind the armor, the fleeing prisoners disappear around the corner.

He yanks a small purse from his belt and throws it at Blazen’s chest. It strikes with a dull clink, and the enforcer stops pursuing.

The purse drops into the wet street at Blazen’s feet while the other two enforcers continue after the escapees. The chase splits around his successful blockade.

Blazen bends, snatches the purse from the wet stones, and feels coins knock together inside. He tucks it away and launches after the two armored men.

His shout rolls around the corner as the five unarmed men slow and glance back. The two enforcers remain ahead, closing on them through the narrow street.

The prisoners spread across the lane instead of fleeing in a knot, forcing the armored pursuers to check their momentum. Blazen’s heavy stride rapidly carries him into the gap.

The two enforcers turn together, shields raised, while the five escapees hold their ground behind them. Blazen arrives within striking distance, purse secured and fists ready.

Blazen pivots through the nearest enforcer’s raised shield and drives his foot into the side of the armored knee. The joint buckles, and the man crashes down hard.

His shield clatters away across the stones. The fallen enforcer’s collapse opens the lane, exposing a narrow passage toward the river stairs behind him.

The second enforcer steps back to cover both Blazen and the prisoners, but the fallen man tangles his boots around the guard’s legs and breaks his stance.

The five escapees seize the opening and rush toward the exposed river stairs. Behind them, the kneeling enforcer clutches his leg while his partner turns, suddenly outnumbered and alone.

Blazen races past the tangled enforcers and charges down the river stairs after the five escapees. His boots hammer the stone, and the purse at his belt clatters loudly.

The descent is steep and damp. Blazen catches himself against the wall, scraping his shoulder hard enough to leave it stinging, but he keeps his footing and reaches the river landing.

The five men gather beside the dark water, breathless and disordered. Above them, the second enforcer reaches the stairhead and starts down, while the injured nearest enforcer remains behind.

A narrow skiff bumps against the landing, its rope loose around a weathered post. The river carries cold mist between Blazen and the opposite bank.

Blazen drops beside the weathered post and works the wet knot loose with stiff, hurried fingers. The rope slips free, and the skiff bumps against the landing, ready.

The frayed rope burns across Blazen’s palm as it comes away, opening a shallow scrape. He coils it aside while the river nudges the skiff toward the steps.

The five men crowd into the skiff, rocking it dangerously. Blazen remains at the landing as the second enforcer descends, shield raised and boots striking sparks.

The loose skiff drifts within reach, its bow scraping stone. Cold mist beads on Blazen’s shoulders, while the escapees seize the oars and pull into the current.