Tasaril smirked at the thugs, especially at the man getting "subdued" by the lynx. "Don't worry, the cat has been fed already, it shouldn't eat you. At least I think so..." He trailed off as if unsure about this, hoping the scum would be even more frightened. The thugs had almost ended his life, and without any provocation! At least not from him. Or not much.<br/><br/>He almost sighed with relief when Naomi healed his wounds, but suppressed the impulse. It wouldn't look good in front of the girl. When she turned her attention to the wounded thugs the bard used the opportunity to check himself for wounds, frowning at his cut clothes. He took a step back under the roof again - changing now would be even more embarrassing than usual. And it had been an expensive shirt... if only he could cast a spell to repair such damages... alas. If wishes were horses beggars would ride. He noticed the pretty girl stuck close to O'walu - had the hunter some sweetheart? Maybe he shouldn't try to impress the girl that much. It wouldn't do for a follower of romance such as himself, a poet of love, to harm young love. Not to mention that O'walu was quite adept with his weapons, and while it was not likely, best to avoid a tragic misunderstanding...<br/><br/>Once the thugs were subdued Tasaril sheathed his rapier - making sure to dry the blade first so it would not rust - and pulled his cloak together. Then he adressed the priest "So, what was this all about?"