Jack chuckled at the man's act as it went on. It was pleasant to watch and a nice change of pace. Django had something that Jack just couldn't put a word to. "Panache" he muttered to himself grinning. After about half of his act was over Jack stepped out of the tent to check on how things were going. Most of the bards had cleared out to greener, less drunk pastures to make their money in. This section of "The real Brennoth" was full of drunkards who had had their fill. Few people were roaming from tent to tent looking for some pocket of a party but it would be a matter of time before this section of "town" would be partied out and sleeping off their ale. Such was the way of the soltice festival, pockets of festivity operating on their own clock as they partied themselves into the ground. However something was off. Jack had a bad feeling in his gut.

"JACKYBOY!" the squeal came from nearby and suddenly the sellsword was alert. Swearing he took off in a sprint honing in on where he had heard his employer. He found the man in his tent knocked flat on his ass. "JACKYBOY IT'S HORRIBLE THEY TOOK..." the noble began to sob uncontrollably. "THEY TOOK SASHA!" The man managed to squeeze imbtween bouts of blubbering. "Who did?" Jack said as he kneeled by his employer and helped him up. "Some ruffians!" The man replied. "They heard us talking and barged in like barbarians and they saw my darling and snatched her away!" the nobleman snapped from sobbing to fury "THE HOOLIGANS PUSHED ME DOWN AND SNATCHED HER UP! THEY'RE GOING TO DO HORRIBLY OBSEEN THINGS TO HER!" he bellowed. Like what you did to those poor whores? Jack thought to himself. He helped the large man to his feet and growled. "Any idea which way they went?" he asked. "I think they said something about their ship the 'Draceliks'" Cromwell replied. Jack grinned, "Don't worry about a thing. I'll get Sasha back and bring you their heads" Jack swore turning on his heal and walking out of the tent.