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As Dune went down the dark streets, a fight was breaking out. No, fight wasn't right. People were crowded around, but it definately wasn't a fight. From the noises that you could hear, it was a one sided massacre. Someone, a large, dark skinned man, was working over another man, that you could not see for the crowd, but was apparently on the ground, holding on for dear life.

The tall dark man reached down, pulling his victim up, and slamming him against the wall of the tavern. The person was a bloody mess, cut open at several spots, he was bleeding profusely, and nearly unrecognizable, as the flinchy little man that Dune had met earlier in the forest...

The man leaned in, and whispered something to Roger, as he hung him by his neck. Roger sputtered back, spitting blood, though he apparently didn't mean to. Whatever they were speaking about, the man's face was clouding over, and he seemed to be getting angrier at the little man.

The man dropped Roger, to fall in a heap at the base of the wall. As the tall man turned around, you could see that the coat he wore wasn't just bulky, the man beneath was. If ever there was a stereotypical form of what a brawler and a warrior should be he was probably it. His right hand was resting on a blade on his left hip, one that from the scabbard, was apparently much larger, and much heavier than the woman's rapier, "It'll be enough, when I tell him it's enough. Now (expletive deleted) off."

The man's eyes narrowed, and his left foot shifted slightly, bracing behind the man, supporting his weight for what could be just a single, lightning fast powerstrike that would have shut up the woman post haste. While he sat there however, his rough voice spoke, "He belongs to me... as does his little 'discovery'..." he told the woman, uncowed by her little show of bravado.

Roger stirred slightly, looking up through blurred and bloodied vision at whatever blob had stepped up and stopped the punishment. He was curling up into a tight little ball, not recognizing who it was, or able to form any thought beneath the pain.

The man, seemed to relax, and even started laughing at the little rogue woman before him. She was soft, like a woman, after all, caring about this worthless slug. And she must be the one that he spoke of. "You're right..." the man said, showing his teeth in a smile, "Perhaps we should go somewhere else, where I can properly reward you for you trouble... He's such a worthless soul. Good dealer, but that's the extent of his worth."

The man grinned at the woman, then bowed his head slightly, "Then just let me take my possession back. I'm sure that one such as yourself, has no use for that worthless man," he told her. He didn't move an inch though, and seemed he wouldn't, until he had the kid in tow...

Roger meanwhile, was coughing and hacking, as he tried to ride out the pain. Each moment seemed to be sheer agony. He thought he'd be used to this by now, but... it never ended up that way.

Suffice to say, that seemed to throw him off, especially since he was a bloody mass of ground meat at the moment. The man however scowled, but then bowed slightly, just a minor show of respect, "Come to find me, if you ever venture into my Den..." he told her, turning and walking away. There was a cold, cruel smile on his face, that hinted this wasn't over yet...

Roger, was murmuring, babbling, and flinching as Dune picked him up, all at once. His body held limp, as his head slowly turned towards the rogue, a look of fear and pain etched upon his face.