The tavern was a musty old place, its patrons in small huddled groups at the tables and on the stools at the bar. No one bothered to look up as someone new entered the tavern; except for three men in the far back of the room. The newcomer wore a black cloak, covering his entire body and face with the hood. When he sat down at the bar, movement on his back could be seen slightly.

The stranger was quiet, keeping his head down mostly. He didn't notice the bartender standing in front of him, until finally, he cleared his throat loudly. The stranger gave a soft gasp, jerking up a bit. His hood fell back and showed his young face, his hair a golden blonde and his eyes a sky blue, matching the color of his skin.

The men in the tavern all got up, staring at the blue man in horror. The only ones sitting were the three in the back. The blue man slowly stood up, backing away, with his hands raised up in defense. His foot fell on the bottom of the cloak, and he stumbled, making it rip off. Feathery white wings spread wide on his back, making everyone take a step back.

For a moment, no one moved at all. Then, a tall man took his chair and smashed it on the ground, picking up one of the legs like a club. He charged at the blue man, and an uproar broke out.

The blue man was knocked against one of the walls, and he was punched and kicked repeatedly, his wings flailing around uselessly. The man with the club raised it up, ready to smash in his head. Suddenly, a man's fist smashed into his face and he was thrown back against the bar.

Looking up, the blue man saw that the one who had thrown the punch was a short, muscled man with wild black hair that went in two points, and burning blue eyes that were narrowed in anger. The man looked at him for a moment, before he began to throw more punches into random faces, the whole tavern surging towards them.

One of the men, drew a long dagger and he charged at the man's back.

Suddenly, in a BAMF of sulfur and brimstone, a young man appeared beside him, tripping him with the blade of one of his rapiers. In another BAMF, the young man was beside the blue man. Before he knew what was happening, the young man had grabbed his arm, and the blue man felt nothing.

In a BAMF, he was outside beside the young man. The young man sheathed his rapier, brushing a strand of blue hair from his face. He looked him over with yellow eyes and he laughed softly, shaking his head.

"You're lucky ve vere in zhere tonight, mein freund." He said. "Logan vas looking for an excuse to start a fight any vay." He noticed that the blue man was a bit unsteady, and he gently took hold of his arm. "Zhe feeling vill leave after a moment or two." He explained.

A drunk was thrown screaming from one of the windows, making the blue man wince. The young man however, didn't even bother to look over. "Vhat is your name?" he asked.

"Uh Warren." He stammered, looking at the groaning man with some worry.

"Vell, it is nice to meet you, Varren. My name is Kurt. Vhen my two friends are done, you vill meet Logan und Scott." Kurt explained, with a slight bow.

Inside the tavern, Logan picked up a man by the throat, and he slammed him into a table, snapping it into pieces.

"Ya could help out a little, bub!" he shouted over to a red haired man in the back.

Scott rolled his amber eyes, stuffing bottles of liquor and ale into his haversack. "I am helping!" he shouted, over his shoulder.

Growling, Logan took two men and smashed their heads together. "I'm done for now. Get out on yer own, Scottie boy!" he barked, stepping back.

Two men ran at him with clubs. Smirking, he let his metal claws out with a SNIKT, and he faced them. They froze and dropped their clubs at once. Nodding, Logan left out the door, retracting his claws.

"Vhere is Scott?" Kurt asked, placing his hands on his hips. "You didn't leave him in zhere did you?"

"He'll come out after he's taken as much booze as he can hold." Logan said, waving a hand in dismissal. "So, who's this?" he asked.

"My name is Warren, sir." He said softly.

Logan cocked an eyebrow, as Kurt burst into laughter. "Just Logan, Warren." He said, digging through his pocket for a moment. He took out a cigar and he lit it, taking a deep drag. "I think we should start going before Scottie blows the place up." He said to Kurt.

Nodding, Kurt turned to Warren. "I zhink you should come vith us, Varren. Those men vill not be too happy vhen ve are gone!"

"All right, but where are we going?" Warren asked, walking beside Kurt.

"Our camp in the forest." Logan answered.

"What about your friend?" Logan snorted, shaking his head.

"He'll be fine."

Inside the tavern, Scott was standing on top of one of the tables, holding the people back with a chair. Looking around, he bit his lower lip, trying to think of how he was going to get out of here. He narrowed his eyes, and they slowly began to glow bright red. He closed his eyes, and the red light seemed to come from under his eyelids. When he opened his eyes, an optic blast erupted, blasting the men away from him. When his eyes dimmed back down, he ran off after Logan and the others.

"Wait up for me dammit!" he shouted. Kurt laughed, placing his hands on his hips, and looking at Scott over his shoulder.

"How many bottles did you get?" he asked. Slowing down, Scott looked through the bag with a shrug.

"Enough to sell to make a profit. We could even keep a few ourselves." He answered with a smirk. He looked over at Warren, slinging the bag over one shoulder. "Thanks for the distraction. Saved us the trouble of starting the fight ourselves!" Warren blushed a faint purple.

"Um no problem." He mumbled. "Where is your camp anyway?" he asked, wanting to change the subject. Kurt shrugged, as they entered the forest.

"Ve are not too far avay really." He admitted. He looked a head and he pointed to where a small fire was burning. "In fact, it is right zhere!" he said with a smile. He started to head for a camp, oblivious to the trees around him.

Logan stopped, holding an arm out in front of Warren and Scott. He sniffed the air lightly, and he growled softly. "Kurt!" he hissed softly. "Kurt, don't!"

It was too late. As soon as Kurt entered their camp, he was pounced upon by a group of ten men who held him down and struck him upside the head, messing with his senses. They disarmed him swiftly and bound his hands and ankles tightly.

"Shit!" Logan hissed, grabbing Scott and Warren by the arms. He pulled them into the trees, telling them to keep quiet lest they be caught too.

"What about your friend?!" Warren whispered. Logan watched the men for a moment, before he turned back to Warren.

"We'll have to wait and see when he wakes up." He whispers, shrugging his shoulders. "We need to get closer." Slowly, they headed closer towards the area, watching as two of the men forced Kurt to sit up.

Kurt groaned shaking his head a bit, before opening his eyes with some effort. He looked around and he rolled his eyes. "Great. Another band of bounty hunters!" he mumbled.

"Shut up! We have some question we need you to answer!" the leader snapped, crouching in front of Kurt. Kurt scoffed, and shook his head a bit.

"Vhat makes you zhink I vill answer any of your questions?" he demanded. "You come in my camp und beat me und tie me up? Now you vant answers? You're crazy!" His head snapped to one side, as a hand struck him across the face.

"Oh that was stupid." Scott whispered. Logan nodded, smiling slightly.

"He won't be needing our help after all." He said. Warren raised his eyebrows, looking at them in surprise.

"But he's being held prisoner! He does need our help!" he protested softly. Logan looked at him calmly.

"Wait and see, Warren." He said simply.

"Ok, now vhat vas zat for?" Kurt demanded, spitting out blood.

"Where is the witch Raven Darkholme?" the leader demanded. Kurt smiled, shrugging a bit.

"Vhat makes you zhink I know vhere she is?" he asked. One of the others walked up and spit on him, the spit landing just under his right eye.

"Just tell us where she is dammit!" the man snapped. Kurt narrowed his eyes, giving a soft feral growl.

"You should not have done zat, mein freund." He snarled softly. "You should never spit on someone if you don't know zheir secrets!" He looked into the leader's eyes, and he narrowed his own, another feral growl coming from his lips. "Especially vhen zat someone is me!"

"What's he going to do?" Warren whispered.

"Just watch." Logan whispered softly. Scott snickered softly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I bet you ten gold he rips them apart in at least five minutes." He whispered.

"Yer on." Logan nodded. "I bet he does it in three minutes!"

"What are you talking about?" Warren asked, cocking an eyebrow. Smiling, Logan pointed at Kurt.

The growling became louder and then, Kurt let his demon out.