[Espy]

((I'll be refering to Espy as a guy here, although I haven't quite figured out what gender he is...-sweat-))

Espy groaned before blinking his eyes open. He was nicely sprawled against some barrels that reeked strongly of alcohol. He picked himself up and nearly fell flat on his face again; the nausea was overwhelming. No, it wasn't the smell of the barrels, but seemingly rather the effects of the spell he was sure he had been caught by a few moments ago.

He'd been sure he'd died right then and there; his slight knowledge of alchemy had proved to be no help whatsoever when matched against the powerful necromancy of a renowned sorcerer. Maybe it was time he checked his tongue.

Espy dusted himself off and sheathed his katars, then re-sprung them, suddenly recalling his surroundings. Eh, if I'm dead, this ain't too bad at all. But what if he wasn't? He'd need something to defend himself with, and the assassin was armed to the tooth.

A few steps brought him to the door, and he let himself into what he figured to be a pub of sorts.