The thugs are caught red-handed.

Three men with curved short blades stand before two helpless harpies--one with red feathers and hair, and the other black. They stumble backwards against the wall and whimper in fear. One of the men reach out to grab a feather from the redhead's wings, and yanks it out. She responds with a whimper of pain as she accidentally knocks over one of the magical lanterns providing the cave with light. All the men do is laugh and toss it into a bag with the rest of their supplies.

"Halt," come a powerful, echoing voice into the cave from the entrance.

Everybody turns to an armoured silhouette standing with a sword and shield in-hand. Brig steps forwards. His metal steps clank loudly against the stone.

"Who's this clown?" one of the men snorts. "We're busy. Buzz off."

"Looks like we got ourselves a white knight," says another.

"I am no such knight. Nor do I seek anything in return for my duties. I am here for one simple reason. Scum like yourselves shouldn't be allowed to exist," Brig speaks bluntly.

"What? Shut your damned mouth." He grips his sword, and runs at the suit of armour with a jab. It's knocked to the side by Brig's shield so hard that it breaks his hand, and the sword goes flying to the ground. Then, he's lifted into the air by the scuff of his shirt, and thrown right out of the cave.

The two others look at one another and drop their weapons. They run like cowards to follow their ally, and soon the sound of their disgusting presence fades into the distance. It's as easy as that. Brig really is incredibly strong. It didn't take much to prove that.

Arthur and the other harpy enter in from behind him. Brig seems distracted by the two women he rescued hugging him and cheering for their saviour.

"They'll be awhile," the blue harpy says. "Please come with me. I need to sit down."

"Of course," Arthur says. "But if they're looking it get something more from Brig there, they're going to be supremely disappointed."

"Oh. Is he chaste?"

"Something like that."

She leads him through the cave into a small room illuminated by a single magic lantern. There's a crude wooden board to function as a door, and on the other side is a large pile of hay big enough to fit several people. Her talons click against the stone, and then she sits down on the pile with a long, relieved sigh. Her golden eyes turn to him, and she has a warm smile on her face. She pats the spot next to him with a wing. "I'm sorry that we don't have chairs here."

"It's fine." He sits down on the surprisingly soft bed of hay. Then, he pulls out a book and ink pen. "May I?"

"Of course!"