Skirmish

As John and Robert stepped into the narrow and filthy alleyways of the poor side of town, the overwhelming stench of garbage and waste hit them like a wave.

The ground was slick with slime and trash, and the walls were covered in grime and visible cracks.

The sight before them was a stark contrast to the clean, well-lit streets of the city center they were used to.

Shadow, their ever-watchful companion, was perched atop a nearby rooftop, scanning the area for any potential threats.

His sharp eyes were alert and his movements were precise as he searched for signs of danger.

Suddenly, as they rounded a corner, they were confronted by a group of rough-looking men. Their faces were twisted into sneers, and their hands were gripping dangerous-looking weapons. John and Robert knew immediately that they were in trouble.

The men had them surrounded, with three behind them and four in front.

One of them, a burly man with a rough beard and a scar on his cheek, stepped forward and spoke in a gru
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