Zack Blaze: The Catalyst of Chaos, Avatar of Anarchy, Prince of Pandemonium, Savant of Shitstorms...

The brawler's mind was busy mentally listing all the cool names that would be bestowed upon him whilst his hands slammed the rogue through the bar's furniture. Splinters of wood and splashes of drink flew out in every which direction and threatened to make themselves known upon anyone foolish enough to continue standing around the fighter and his prey. Just as Zack started to let loose, a familiar voice rang out from behind the former prisoner. The smile across the criminal's face widened as he began to turn to face a man he completely decimated in the citadel once before, and was more than happy to do so again. As he turned, his shirt ripped completely off of his form, a result of Nosdyn's kick only barely failing to find its mark and as a result disrobing Zack's upper body.

"Hey, I liked that shirt," Zack spoke as his brows furrowed and his smile disappeared, "but I guess Loseric isn't absolutely useless after all. After I take care of you, I'll deal with him."

He looked to the man who dared attempt to interrupt his fun. He looked around Zack's height and weight, though it was incredibly difficult to take one's eyes away from anything but the urine colored eyes of this demonic-looking foe. "You're face already looks a little trashed, pal," Zack took a deep breath as he slung a small uppercut in Nosdyn's direction, "and the best thing to do with a pile of trash is to burn it!"

Zack's hope was that his words distracted the Haidian native from the real attack. A small shark-like fin of flames began to cut through the wooden floor of the establishment as if Blaze's hands threw the fiery attack like an underhanded baseball. Small embers sprang out and sparkled onto the floor before they quickly died away while the hot attack attempted to find its target in Nosdyn. The attack would hopefully cover the weird eyed warrior in flames, and if not, at least would give Zack a clue about whom he now fought.