Torqin watched as Xander came in following his charge through the door, and quickly dispatched one of the three men in front of him. Torqin didn't know which, if any, of these two remaining men was Benji, but he hoped to the Spirits beneath and the Immortals among them that it was. Both men were drunk, though one much more so than the other, though the threat of attack had brought some sobering to their demeanor. The man on the left wielded a fire poker, while the drunker man on the right was empty handed. Both of them hesitated a bit, for Torqin had them both beat on size and hardware. Poker guy stepped forward timidly when Torqin released a guttural shout in his direction, freezing him up for a moment. And a moment was all Torqin needed.
Shield in right hand, he slide shuffled forward, leaned down into his left hip, and then punched up and outward, thrusting his shield forward, using the spring off his hip. The man got the poker down in front of him defensively, but the shield punch tossed him off balance. Torqin had exposed his right side to the unarmed man, who tackled him into the ribs. Torqin was shoved into the wall, pinning his left arm there between his body and the wooden boards. Torqin's shield arm was held up in a vertical 90 degree grip at the elbow, and being a heater shield, sloped down into a point. As such, he jerked his elbow down, driving the point of the shield into his assailants own ribs, and felt something give, that shouldn't have. A drunken howl was screamed from this man, Benji, although unknown to Torqin.
Benji released his grip on Torqin and stumbled back, out of the way of the shield punch that followed him. Torqin was in the corner now, with little room to work with. He saw a poker swinging down at him, and he brought his club up, catching it just a hair's breadth before it would've struck him where his left shoulder met his neck. Benji grabbed Torqin's shield, and pulled the Lotharro man toward him, throwing Torqin off balance. Torqin, stumbling toward Benji was unable to block the fist that met his face, and he felt his nose crack underneath it, sending a blinding white flash through him. Stumbling again, the poker was swung heavily against Torqin's unarmed back, a white stripe of pain there.
Benji pulled Torqin toward him again, with another punch waiting for the man, but Torqin had been expecting it this time. If he'd learned anything of his time in the Alley was that drunken fighters often repeated the same tactic over and over if it worked. He twisted past it, and instead of trying to pull his shield free of the man's grip, he stepped into it. Torqin lowered his shoulder, and drove the man hard into the wall across the room, hearing a satisfied crunch of the shoddy made planks break. The grip on his shield was released. Torqin, quickly spun, knowing poker was coming for him after he'd earned a bit of a gap.
Shield up, caught the next swing, and Torqin's own spiked club came up and caught the man in the armpit underneath his swinging arm, nearly lifting him off his feet. The thorn like spikes bit deep, but really it was the heavy upward swing of a blunt object that did the real damage. The man's shoulder dislocated and bulged upward at a nauseating angle. Torqin didn't relent, knowing he had to keep space between the two attackers. So he moved away from Benji, pressing forward with his shield into the injured man, his poker having dropped to the floor. He drove his into the man's torso, and with a quick drop and pop up of his stance, threw the man off his feet, crashing into a small coffee table, breaking it under his weight. Torqin turned to his right, keeping his shield up, as he now saw Benji coming forward, the dropped poker in hand.
Torqin cursed himself for not having secured the weapon. The poker stabbed outward with the point, and Torqin deflected it to the side with his shield, following through with the motion, spinning to his right, careful to not trip over his own feet. As he did, the circular motion brought his club swinging upward, catching Benji in the same ribs he'd struck earlier, and once more, a satisfying crunch was felt. Torqin yanked the club toward him, letting the thorns rip more flesh open, and brought his club to an upright hold, blood dripping to the floor below. The man kept his poker raise, but now clutched his ribs with his other arms, "I'll not let you rob my house, ya bastards!"
Torqin knew instantly that this was Benji. That meant not killing him. Not yet, at least. Torqin feinted a swing down toward Benji's injured side, and the man flinched. And with that, Torqin shoved forward, getting his shield in under the man's poker arm, preventing him from being able to swing it downward. He drove Benji back once more, shoving him hard against the wall, pinning him. Torqin rotated the club in his hand, and slammed it down, driving the long spike of it through the top of Benji's foot, pinning it to the floorboards below, the man screaming in pain, and dropping the poker. Torqin held the man there, and left the club where it stuck, and punched with a heavy left handed hook, striking Benji in the ear.
A pair of hands grabbed him by the back of the shirt, and pulled him off the man, throwing him backward. Torqin was tossed back on his ass, but managed to keep from rolling onto his back. The friend of Benji reached down for the poker, but Torqin kicked it away. The man chased after it, giving Torqin time to get to his feet, while Benji tried to pull Torq's club from his foot. Poker swung down again, and Torqin punched his shield forward, catching the man's forearm on the rim. He then grabbed the man's wrist and raise on the shield, the man howling as his forearm threatened to break. He dropped the poker and squirmed free from Torqin's hold.
The lotharro had the poker now, but Benji was freed, holding Torqin's club in hand, but standing unsteadily on his good right leg. Torqin had effectively disabled his entire left side. Benji's companion was unarmed, but they had regrouped. Torqin focused on regaining his breath during this mild lull in the combat, as the men decided their next course of action. They charged together, Benji swinging his club high in both hands, and Torqin was forced to raise his shield high to catch it. As he did, the unarmed man got beneath his guard and tackled Torqin in the ribs, driving him back into the busted table, breaking it further. Torqin felt something wooden pierce him in the back. He slammed the inner flat of his shield against the companions back, trying to break his grip upon his waist, but the man held firm.
Benji smiled, knowing that with Torqin immobilized, it was just a matter of time before he was killed by his own club. A double handed swing came down again and Torqin caught it on the shield, his arm bulging under the force. Swing after swing, driving Torqin's shield lower and lower. He wouldn't be able to withstand this onslaught much longer, his arm would give out. Another swing came down, and Torqin tried something. Instead of catching it, and it's force, he tipped the shield inward, and this deflect the club down, driving it into the back of Benji's companion. He howled loudly, releasing Torqin, and scrambled away, unintentionally pulling the club from Benji's hands. Torqin seized the distraction and swung the poker down into Benji's injured foot, and the man howled, stumbling backward.
Torqin pulled himself upright, slowly, his ribs battered from where the companion kept hitting with kidney shot after shot while having him wrapped up. He could feel something sticking out of his back, limiting his motion, he guessed a sharp piece of the smashed table. Benji had fallen backward in his pained hopping, and Torqin turned toward the companion with his club stuck in his back. With a thud, he smashed the fire poker into the man's skull, and he stopped crawling. Dropping the poker with a clatter, he pulled his club free from the man with a schick, and stalked toward Benji, who was sliding backwards in a drunken, pain induced panic. Two friends were dead, the other missing, and another assailant in the house. Torqin glowered down as he looked at the small man, his club resting atop his shoulder.
Benji started to beg, pleading with Torqin. To take whatever he wanted. All of his gold, his booze, anything he wanted. "T-t-ake my wife, she ain't wort' much, but she'll do whatever you want." The club was already swinging as the man said wife. It crushed Benji's knee of his good leg, bending his leg backward. "I'm not robbing you."
The man began to sob in his pain, "Wh-wh-why you here then? I never crossed ya. I don' even know ya. I don' owe ya money do I?"
Thunk.
Another howl as Torqin destroyed the man's other knee. "Say her name."
"Wh-wh-who?"
Torqin spat in the man's face, "Your wife."
"Tess? Wha's that stu-"
Crunch.
Torqin's club crushed Benji's arm.
"Her name is Celeste."
Benji's eyes were screwed shut from the pain, tears streaming down his face, blood seeping from his wounds.
"I ain't know a Cele.."
Another swing, another arm broken.
"Don't you DARE soil her name with your tongue!"
"But ya tol' me to say it!"
Torqin leered down at the man, who was completely disabled at this point. He crouched down, balanced on the balls of his feet, bringing him to eye level with the venomous lech. He winced a bit as whatever was stuck in his back tore some more flesh. He set down his shield, and reached back, feeling a large shard of wood. He gripped it, and pulled it free with a gasp, tossing it away. Then with his free hand, he grabbed Benji's ankle and pulled him away from the wall, eliciting screams of pain as the man was made prone upon his back, unable to resist.
"Does it feel good to rape a woman who is kind to everyone? Even to a low life such as you? To force her to do despicable things for paltry coin? To threaten the lives of the two babes she would give everything for?"
Benji just whimpered.
"DOES IT FEEL GOOD?!" Torqin roared.
Sobbing, "Yes! It felt good!"
Torqin stood up to his full height, bringing his club up over his head, taking it in both hands, ignoring the pain in his bruised ribs, ignoring the puncture in his back, and the other bodily wounds he acquired.
"Apologize to her, now. Or your despicable life ends now. She better be able to hear it."
"Tessa! Ah'm so--"
Torqin swung the club heavily, burying it with a sickening thunk into the man's groin, destroying what Benji felt gave him power. He ripped it away as the man howled and sobbed, impressed that the fool hadn't passed out from shock yet. Torqin bent to grab his shield, and toppled over to the floor in his battered, exhausted state. Grabbing his shield, he pulled it close. He needed a rest. And this spot seemed as good a spot as any. He hoped she was safe, that Xander had executed his part of the impromptu plan. But a rest, that was very much needed. And so, the bodyguard laid there, each breath sending fire through his ribs, hoping to hear something from his charge, cursing himself for not having enough strength to go to her now. He wasn't strong enough. Once again, he'd failed her.
Hopefully Xander hadn't.
