3 - Helpless
by SilkyNoire
The half-dozen hooded goons surrounding her didn't react, but their lieutenant did. She sauntered up to Sariel, and stuck her hand down into the half-elf's vest.
Sariel feigned a look of shock. "At least buy me dinner first!"
The lieutenant withdrew her hand, clutching a gem-studded necklace. "A 'simple misunderstanding'. Really?" She said dryly.
Sariel tilted her head and smiled coyly. "Your boss gave me that as a gift, that's all!" It was a lie, and not a very good one.
The human woman shook her head. When she spoke, it wasn't directed at Sariel. "The boss wants her alive."
With that, the lieutenant simply turned about and walked away, clearly trusting in her six goons. They had already drawn clubs and knives, and Sariel finally drew her dagger. There wasn't enough time to summon a magic weapon. The first goon came in from her front, swinging his club wildly at her. She stepped back for two swings, then ducked under a third. It was a simple matter of slashing at his leg tendons, and he screamed in pain.
A sudden pain flared across the back of Sariel's head, and her vision narrowed for a second. A forward roll allowed her to dodge the next attack from the goon behind her. This goon was a woman, but much larger than Sariel. Probably stronger than all of the male goons as well. Instead of a club, she wielded a plank of wood torn from a nearby cart, and was viciously swinging it at Sariel's head. The half-elf ducked and weaved, narrowly evading each swing at the last moment. The timing of this was critical. When the woman overextended for just a moment, Sariel threw her dagger into the woman's shoulder, and another scream of pain erupted.
Sariel didn't realise she had been tricked until it was too late. She had backed up from the woman, and was so focused on the fight that she didn't notice how close she was to another one. At least until he had her in a chokehold. His arms wrapped around her neck in a vice, and she suddenly couldn't breathe. She clawed at his arms with her hands, struggling and kicking, but the difference between a one hundred pound woman and a man something short of two hundred pounds was too much. Her resistance slowed, and her vision began fading.
The female goon she'd stuck her dagger into walked up to the fading half-elf. She'd pulled the dagger from her shoulder, and was now holding it. "Be glad he wants you alive, or I'd cut your neck right now," she stated, not a hint of pain in her voice.
It was the last thing Sariel heard before blacking out.
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