Holg finds his place at the door, ready to strike. With a nod to Jodon beside him he moves for the door, his blood pumping. Peering into the window, Jodon lets his illusory effect fly. The two men in the altered kitchen jump at the sound and look towards a closed cabinet. The sounds of pots and pans rattling inside have them curios and confused. Their attention now diverted, they intend on figuring out the cause of the clamor when the hulking form of Holg throws the door open wide. Too engrossed in the moment of surprise, Holg abandons his stealth and the door slams open heavily.

Taken a bit by surprise himself at the loud sound, Jodon quickly offers some words to Bless the companions, before drawing his crossbow and standing ready at the door behind Holg.

 So many thoughts raced in Dathyra's mind, faster than well...ever, she figured. She wasn't sure what she should do. She knew that Jodon would want to try and reason with these two, to try and get them to be rational and come to their senses, and then possibly give them some useful information. He would only fight if he had to, and he probably would have wanted her to help him in that goal. She knew that Holg would want her to fight. After all, these men had made their choice to engage in such unsavory business. They probably had no care for the lives of others and they probably wouldn't see reason. But what did she want? Very rarely had she ever asked herself that question. Her eyes darted about the room to find a quick answer.

And an answer was there. Dathyra didn't like the idea of causing pain, but she knew there were two reactions to it: fight or flight. If she could injure them, they would either back off or fight back, meaning she would no longer have to choose between reasoning and battle if she had to defend herself. She stepped into the room, aiming for the first man in front of her.

"Naur!" she shouted, calling forth her spell of fire once again.

Completely caught off guard, the man by the door, turned to put some distance between himself and his attackers. Even being surprised, he was quick to act, but not quite fast enough. Golden fire ignited all about his upper torso and face. Not being true fire, his hair was spared, but he still yelled out in pain as sear marks bubbled up on his skin, stopping him in his tracks. He was alive and in serious pain. He put his hand to the dagger on his side and shot a hateful glare at Dathyra.

Holg watched as Dathyra rushed past him and began to ignite the man directly in front of them. Feeling embolden by her fighting spirit, he clenched the shortsword tighter in his left hand and begins to remove his dagger from his belt loop with his right. Holg rushes toward the now charred man. With a quick movement of his feet, Holg positions himself parallel to the man's side and delivers a strike with the dagger blade into the man's back.

Paying little attention to the success of this strike on the first man, Holg shifts his focus to the second one. Using the momentum from his first strike, Holg starts to spin counter-clockwise toward him. As Holg reaches the second man, his shortsword follows him through the motion of the spin and carries through in an attempt to strike the man.

The seared man's initial retreat now halted and enemies pouring into the room, he realizes just how desperate his situation was becoming. He whips his dagger out to thrust it into the nearby elf, but then Holg's dagger comes into view. Abandoning all hope of hitting Dathyra, he aligns his dagger to receive the half-orc's blade. He barely makes the parry in time only to be pushed hard against the counter knocking the wind out of him.

Using the first bandit as a pivot point, Holg spins and his shortsword drives deep into the man leaning on the counter. A good eight inches of blade finds purchase in the man's side, aimed parallel with his body. Paralyzed with agony, he fails to act other than to pull his torso away from the piercing blade. It seems that Jodon's distraction coupled with the party's stealth has really paid off for now, but shouts of alarm come from the large room beyond.

Alarmed at the sounds of alarm from the next room, Jodon rushes into the kitchen and to the far corner of the island.  He peeks around the corner, and, feigning a motion like he is flinging a bucket, he uses Minor Illusion to make what hopefully passes for a puddle of hot kitchen oil on the ground in front of the door, before drawing his tagger and turning towards Holg and his opponent.

Dathyra was incredibly thankful for Holg's intervention. It may have saved her life. But now, he had placed himself in a dangerous situation between two wounded men who would fight back as the man who had come at her had proven. Now, she needed to repay the favor.

Dathyra's mace comes down hard and fast. The man still catching his breath, puts up a feeble defense with his dagger and sinks down in an attempt to get out of range of the swing. Not knowing quite how to parry the mace, he moves as he would intercept a blade. The mace blows through the weak defense through to the man's chest. A whoosh of air is blasted from his lungs as he falls to the ground unmoving.