Hate to make it three in a row, but this needs continuing.



Copper sighed. With the metal coverings on the windows, the Tavern was cast into blackness without even the lightning outside to break it. Time to show your stuff, Copper, she thought, and placed a paw on her swordhilt. Slowly she drew the sword from the sheath, and set her paw on the green jewel that the sword bore. The ringing sound as Shale came out echoed around the Tavern, and even the most drunk were slightly alarmed. When Shale was fully free from the scabbard, she drew her paw lightly across the gem and then the blade, and smiled faintly as the sword began to glow. Soon the light was bright enough to see the dim outlines of furniture, and she covered the gem again. The light slowly flowed off of the sword and into her cupped paws, creating a ball of pure white light. Then she put her sword away and flung the glowing sphere into the air, where it hung just above her shoulder. She could see Bluez grin, and Ducky had an expression of profound relief on her face. Then Kovu spoke up.

"Are we just going to sit here until the metal breaks, or are we going to actually fight these guys?"

The Tavern ppl shrugged. Copper sighed again and made a lighting-quick decision.

"I say we fight. These guys aren't going to leave until they get us, dead or alive. Who's with me?"

There was no answer. She glanced significantly at Admael, Ducky and Bluez, and saw the last roll his eyes sarcastically. Her next words clinched it for Ducky.

"Y'know, they'd probably burn the Tavern again. . ."

Admael nodded, and Ducky sighed.

"I guess we have no choice. . ."

The crowd of evil creatures outside surrounded the Tavern, ignoring the villiage around them. Then, as Copper headed for the door, she simply disappeared. Ducky gasped, but a voice in her head told her to keep going. Then, apparently by itself, the Tavern door swung open. Ducky and Admael drew their weapons, and then Copper appeared in the midst of the zombies, sword arching downwards like a flame in the torchlight. . .



Someone continue; I'm not that good at writing battles. . .