The gypsies were quick to rush their armless friend towards the kitchens, Bucren assuming to muffle his screaming and patch him up. Or put Pias somewhere quiet to die. He had no clue then that they were merely rats fleeing the sinking ship anyway they can. One though gave them a nod of gratitude for repelling the vampire, though it had all been Xavier whereas Bucren just shut the door. The elderly gypsy commented that the bitch outside might be alone but Bucren didn’t trust that. He knew from experience with the wolves that danger always traveled in packs.<br/><br/>He noticed too that Arik was missing, his eyes scanning for the bartender. But before he could voice why the man might abandon his wares, there came the chilling voice of the vampire from without. As she spoke, all other noise seemed to stop, at least for Bucren. Pias screaming or the thunder crackling outside seemed to have been removed far, far away when the vampiress spoke outside, demanding compensation and payment for interrupting her meal. Ten minutes, she stated, with bone-chilling laughter. Ten minutes? She was likely already going to get her sisters.<i>Fuck</i>. Just his luck to be besieged in a tavern with gypsies and strangers. Better the barn then. If he ever saw those so-called compatriots of his, he was definitely punching them in the face for this ordeal.<br/><br/>Well, maybe he deserved one as well. He had been one who convinced the others to open the door and let the woman in, costing Pias his arm. But what if it had been real? And there had really been a poor girl out there begging for survival and life? The others had been ready to let her die, enduring the screams rather than risk their necks to save her. Such a state of morbidity had not yet fallen on Bucren, he hoped. Did he do the right thing? Or did he just doom everyone in the tavern to slow deaths by the vampires? Was it bound to happen even if he was here or not? No time for questions though. The mercenary in him began to act, going to fetch his bow and quiver that he left by his table. And to take a quick gulp of the garlic flavoured stew, half his hand in the broth as he picked up the entire bowl and slurped from it directly.<br/><br/>If he was going to be eaten, at least he’ll give a vampire a bad stomach ache for some days.<br/><br/>Xavier then answered his remarks.<i>Miss</i>Sergovia? Fancy. No time to remark on that and what it might mean for Boravia and Bucren himself. Vampires. How to kill them. “Same as most meat.” Bucren commented drily, looking at the bowl of stew. “You just have to cut it in a certain place. Preferably deep, across the neck, just like how you took the little shit’s arm off. You can stab them through the heart too but you basically have to get close enough to kiss them. And the last thing you want to do is kiss a vampire.” He noted, checking the stringing on his bow, content that it was still wound and capable of punching an arrow through the air with lethal force. He pointed at the garlic cloves all about, charms to ward off the creatures. Right now Bucren had doubts about their abilities though but still, every little bit helps. “Get yourself a necklace too.” He added.<br/><br/>The other man asked a favour, to which he simply shrugged. “What are comrades for, eh?” He consented with a sardonic smile, as usual. Nothing bonded men like cutting off the arm of a gyspy huh. Bucren couldn’t deny the stroke though had been with some skill and elegance. It wasn’t so bad to have an actual warrior on his side for once. Like the old days. “They’d probably be safer up top, narrow approach and all with the stairs. But I’ll look around down here. You better appraise them of what’s going on then.” He said and with a nod, went towards the kitchens where the other gyspies had gone. And to his thinking, Arik as well.<i>But why him? Arik wouldn’t lift a finger to help them.</i><br/><br/>There had to be some other way out of here instead of the front door.<br/><br/>He found the others outside the kitchen. Pias’ arm looked horrible, shedding blood from the severed veins in his arm. He looked in a state of delirium, dying slow no doubt, unless they did something to cauterize that wound. They were trying to heat up a kettle for it but Bucren knew that would be nasty. “Where’s Arik?” He asked them. “Pias isn’t going to make it much longer. Here.” He slung his bow and drew out his sword, shoving the tipped end into the flames, heating it up. “There’s got to be some other way out of here. Is there a way onto the roof? Or a cellar? We’re going to get trapped in here unless we got a plan.” He inquired, pressing his luck with comradery with these gypsies. But they were the bottom of the barrel, for a group of people already considered the bottom of the barrel.<br/><br/>When the blade was hot enough, he came over to Pias and pressed the searing white-hot side of the blade to the man’s severed limb. Bucren could only cringe at the man’s reaction but this act would save his life, to some degree. If they all saw morning that is.<br/><br/>Now if anyone knew anything, it would be Arik. He didn’t see the man in the kitchens so he went back into the common room. The first thing he did was upend one table, pressing its surface towards the door as a rudimentary obstacle. It might slow a dumb wolf down but a pack of vampires? Anything helped though. He kicked a few of the chairs over to the door. Hopefully some idiot tripped on them. “Arik? Where the fuck are you?” He asked again quite loudly, glancing around before moving behind the bar himself. Arik’s loss, he guessed. Surely this would bring the cheap fuck of a bartender racing over, as Bucren selected one of the finer bottles he never had the luxury to try.<br/><br/>"Well, fuck. Where that bastard get up to?" He asked to no one in particular. He wasn't in the kitchen or room. That meant...there was more to this building than he knew. And he had been coming here for years.