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be well experienced in Underhaven's trade and many of them would be armed. There was also a high risk of hostages inside given the likelihood that they were holding kidnapped women.
    She considered her options. If the men became desperate it seemed inevitable that they would make use of a hostage, and she wanted to avoid that if she could. That meant hitting them hard and quickly; end the ordeal before any of them thought to turn to such measures. Being shot at also seemed inevitable, so she would need her powers at their sharpest in order to manage that threat - and it would be best if she could keep them from getting behind her. Focusing her telekinesis to such a level required great concentration and it needed her to be able to see the area she was trying to connect to. If they shot her from behind, she doubted she'd manage to deflect it.
    She eased herself into a standing position, her cloak catching the wind and blowing lightly over her shoulder. She flexed and tensed her body in preparation, absently checking herself for battle-readiness and limbering up for what was to come. She was still a little sore from the earlier fight with the Snakes, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.
    These people had played at slavers for far too long. Tonight the consequences had finally caught up with them. Pariah had no intention of taking it easy on them like she had with the Snakes - they would get no mercy from her.
    You're mine, now , she thought with satisfaction.
    Pariah leapt from the rooftop, her fall speeding her towards the street four storeys below and whipping the tail of her cloak into the air above her. As she neared the ground she gripped the air with her telekinesis and guided her speedy descent towards the depot entrance. At the last moment, she focused on the air to hold her and killed all of her speed before dropping lightly to her feet barely a meter away from the stunned doormen.
    As her cloak settled back around her shoulders Pariah flashed the thugs a predator's smile, blue embers lighting her eyes from beneath the hood, 'Hi there, fellas. I'm looking for a band of sadistic, spineless miscreants who like to enslave women - any idea where I might find them?'
    The astounded doormen shared baffled looks before their brains finally kicked in. They both went for their holsters, reaching for slick black pistols.
    She didn't give them the time. The moment they started to move, she was on them; her fists and legs a whirlwind of blows always preventing them from recovering. She pressed her initiative, bringing the first guy down as he wavered on his feet with a steep roundhouse kick to the face. As she flattened him she turned to see the second doorman on his knees, reaching back for his handgun. She built up a wave of force and threw it right at him, easily blowing him through the door that he was meant to protect and opening up a path inside.
    Beyond the doors lay a dimly lit reception hall of sorts, with a heavy desk flanked on both sides by walls of storage lockers. A group of five very surprised men sat around the table, evidently mid-way through a poker match. They stared down in shocked silence at the crumpled form of their buddy.
    Pariah took the sight in at a glance and charged in at them. She focused on the table and with a sharp effort of will sent it into a rapid series of spins. The thugs were bashed off their feet as they made to stand from their game, being scattered about the room by their make-shift poker table.
    She released her connection to the table and let it come clattering down in the centre of the room. Even as it dropped she was still coming; she pounced on the first downed man, coming down on his forehead with the full force of her elbow. With him dispatched, she was quickly back up, running over the toppled desk and throwing herself at the other men as they stumbled back to their feet.
    The ruckus had made quite a noise and Pariah could hear cries of alarm coming from further inside the depot.