Sera leapt from the edge of the roof to alight the ground below in sort of a heap surrounded by plumes of dust.  Standing upright, he brushed his knees off and then approached the thugs, bowed to one of them, and picked up one of their daggers.  Inspecting it, the youth spun it in his hand and then holstered it.<br/><br/>"Well, I wonder who's laughing now," Sera said, grinning from ear to ear.  Looking from thug to the other, he then sort of cartwheeled joyously towards the bard.  Sera stood behind him, prodded at his shoulder as he was addressing the group, and whispered:   "Can we please search them?  Please?  Pretty please?  Pretty please with a meatpie on the side and a mug of ale to wash it out?"  Though Sera seldom actually fought people, the few times that he did, and even the fewer times that he won, he usually got stuff (which would inevitably and irrevocably be taken from him by the city guard, but that was another matter).<br/><br/>Sera then pointed in a very macho, aggressive manner towards one of the thugs.  It was very sudden, completely unexpected, and he perhaps appeared a bit silly doing it-- but he did it with great passion.<br/><br/>"You heard me, ne'er-do-well!  I want your stuff!"<br/><br/><br/>