<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b7/9b/88/b79b881e3957f8dd1e6df9101dd9a553.jpg)</div>As the five masked enforcers begin to step into position, Walfaerd reaches back to her sword on her back, a glint of delicious joy lighting her eye. "Alright boys, let's-" she begins the thews of her raised arm impressive until it abruptly goes limp as Yva's punch slams abruptly into her jaw. Her head snaps to the side and she stumbles back, crashing into a display that sends glowing balls scattering across the marketplace ground.<br/><br/>A shrill voice peeps up from the hooded merchant, "Miscreants! Ne'redowells! Thieves!" They scramble back to a small counter and dive behind it, rustling and grabbing for something, likely dangerous. The five merchant guards turn to Yva, their masks revealing no emotion or information. Norg turns with an absolutely flabbergasted look on his face before drawing himself up to his full height; shit he's tall. Roars of anger begin to explode around the Churn as other merchant guards begin to rush from nearby stalls.<br/><br/><strong>Troubleshooters, what do you do?</strong>