assault

Ikenvul grunts as his back slams against the wall. He sputters and coughs. One punch would mean nothing, while numerous have taken him out of any fighting position. Once more, after many, many times of holding his hands up in defense, he protests to the smaller folk whom corner him, holding knives and threatening to skewer him should he fight back, “Lads...can’t we talk?” Another cough escapes him, “I don’t have anything else.”

While spending my time off talking about work related matters with Mandic at the Pony today, I was interrupted by a woman who sought more information about the actions of the Watch in regards to an attack that happened this week. Due to being preoccupied with other work (refer to my other report for more information), I was unable to answer her questions, but decided to follow her to the scene of the crime in order to gain more information about what occured.