Post by Brimstone on Apr 22, 2010 15:18:20 GMT -5
Like a dusty ghost the seemingly tired collection of cloth and armour slumped heavily down upon a poorly fashioned bench his silk covered hand shooting out to reorganized the heavy sword that rested on his back pushing it aside so not to sit on it. Sliding into the robed folds he pulled out a heavy purse two red dots that one would take as eyes inside the strange wrappings around his head peered into its depths before pulling it shut with a snap and dropping it back where it belonged. Freezing he noticed a pair of burly men watching him across the way, their attentions made him feel awkward so he stood preparing to leave.
After pulling on his clothing setting it right and readjusting his sword he wandered down the street peering at the strange things in the stalls and amazing smells that affronted his nose. He had never been in such a large city of fleshlings and despite the weariness he felt he couldn’t help but feel lightened by the place. Everyone seemed to have some kind of business and he had yet to stumble upon the sad sight of beggars that were a common sight in other large communities. In one such communities he had been flooded by beggars after flashing some silver to a merchant in hopes of attaining some information. Fearful he had fled the city a tide of beggars flowing after him like an enraged sea, merchants and citizens had laughed at him and the guard had not lifted a finger. Under his wrappings he scowled angrily at the memory he stopped suddenly realizing he was alone. He stood in a dusty back road, one would not call such a place an ally for it was wide in girth and its sides were decorated with an assembly of old buildings, close at hand he could hear the noise of population.
Cursing himself for letting himself to be caught up in memories he turned to make his way back only to look into the face of one of the two men he had witnessed earlier, they seemed to have collected some of there ilk for another pair stood a few feet away. For a moment no one spoke then the lead man gave the small stabbing sword he held a diplomatic wave. “ahh kind stranger it seems you are lost?” he asked an unfriendly smile creasing his dirty mouth “it seems you don’t know the customs of our fair town”
Impatiently a man from the back took a step forward ‘Oh quit your jabbing Bree, this fool is obviously sickly look at all those coverings to hide his sickness, let’s cut him down and get this done with!” he growled hefting a heavy piece of wood that he assumed he was going to try and hit him with.
Bree sighed rubbing his temple with his unarmed hand, “ah one cannot rob with honour these days...sadly though he is right, I don’t suppose you will live long anywise stranger best just enjoy it as the mercy it is, a man shouldn’t be brought down by the shame of illness” with that three men excluding their lead launched forward. Daggers and blunt objects brought to bear, the stranger saying nothing reached for the battered sword hilt drawing the blade an inch before suddenly dropping to one knee pulling the steel from its leathery home he grasped it in two hands half way through the swing, his timing could not have been more perfect for as the first man swung at his head he had dropped below the swing his blade however had taken the man in the belly disembowelling him.
“Such a pity I must slay a man who has even the chance of becoming honourable” sighed the man under his wrappings his voice sounding pure and smooth it was clear that this was no sickly retch. Rolling to the left he kicked out crushing the man’s knee he spun elegantly removing his head before he could collapse from his shattered leg. Stepping back he viewed the remaining two who now stared at him in surprise. With a roar Bree charged his friend taking a step back still trying to absorb the sight of his two dead friends bleeding on the ground. Blades clashing in sparks the two men locked in combat, neither giving an inch as they fought toe to toe, oddly the stranger seemed to be taking this duel with quite efficiency, while Bree was
and cursing he was merely putting out just enough effort it seemed to entertain himself with the decent swordsmanship of his opponent. Suddenly a faulty thrust sent Bree’s blade over the strangers shoulder, responding instantly the gleaming blade of the robed traveler lashed out removing the robbers sword arm cleanly, then spinning dramatically his blade sheered down again removing his other arm from the shoulder down as his frenzied fingers moved to stem the blood flow from the first loss of limb. Stepping around from behind the robber who had now fallen to his knees “Who is stupid enough to try to rob a well armed man?” he asked calmly only to be interrupted by a fearful scream, the young man who had witnessed this took off down the road screeching.
“The...Old..one....WATCHESSSSSSSSS” suddenly blurted Bree coughing and spitting blood his eyes seemed to fade for a moment then he toppled to the left landing heavily.
Turning his gaze from the dead man he stepped around the corpse shuddering at the sound of yells and running feet, the guard had heard of the brawl and he supposed the word of a stranger wouldn’t be taken to be truth. Flicking the blood from his gored blade he slid it back into place before sprinting off, lunging high he grasped a high ledge and pulled himself up upon the tiled roof rolling onto his belly to watch what occurred below. It was then that he heard a moan from the man he had disemboweled earlier, and he knew things were about to get ugly.
After pulling on his clothing setting it right and readjusting his sword he wandered down the street peering at the strange things in the stalls and amazing smells that affronted his nose. He had never been in such a large city of fleshlings and despite the weariness he felt he couldn’t help but feel lightened by the place. Everyone seemed to have some kind of business and he had yet to stumble upon the sad sight of beggars that were a common sight in other large communities. In one such communities he had been flooded by beggars after flashing some silver to a merchant in hopes of attaining some information. Fearful he had fled the city a tide of beggars flowing after him like an enraged sea, merchants and citizens had laughed at him and the guard had not lifted a finger. Under his wrappings he scowled angrily at the memory he stopped suddenly realizing he was alone. He stood in a dusty back road, one would not call such a place an ally for it was wide in girth and its sides were decorated with an assembly of old buildings, close at hand he could hear the noise of population.
Cursing himself for letting himself to be caught up in memories he turned to make his way back only to look into the face of one of the two men he had witnessed earlier, they seemed to have collected some of there ilk for another pair stood a few feet away. For a moment no one spoke then the lead man gave the small stabbing sword he held a diplomatic wave. “ahh kind stranger it seems you are lost?” he asked an unfriendly smile creasing his dirty mouth “it seems you don’t know the customs of our fair town”
Impatiently a man from the back took a step forward ‘Oh quit your jabbing Bree, this fool is obviously sickly look at all those coverings to hide his sickness, let’s cut him down and get this done with!” he growled hefting a heavy piece of wood that he assumed he was going to try and hit him with.
Bree sighed rubbing his temple with his unarmed hand, “ah one cannot rob with honour these days...sadly though he is right, I don’t suppose you will live long anywise stranger best just enjoy it as the mercy it is, a man shouldn’t be brought down by the shame of illness” with that three men excluding their lead launched forward. Daggers and blunt objects brought to bear, the stranger saying nothing reached for the battered sword hilt drawing the blade an inch before suddenly dropping to one knee pulling the steel from its leathery home he grasped it in two hands half way through the swing, his timing could not have been more perfect for as the first man swung at his head he had dropped below the swing his blade however had taken the man in the belly disembowelling him.
“Such a pity I must slay a man who has even the chance of becoming honourable” sighed the man under his wrappings his voice sounding pure and smooth it was clear that this was no sickly retch. Rolling to the left he kicked out crushing the man’s knee he spun elegantly removing his head before he could collapse from his shattered leg. Stepping back he viewed the remaining two who now stared at him in surprise. With a roar Bree charged his friend taking a step back still trying to absorb the sight of his two dead friends bleeding on the ground. Blades clashing in sparks the two men locked in combat, neither giving an inch as they fought toe to toe, oddly the stranger seemed to be taking this duel with quite efficiency, while Bree was
and cursing he was merely putting out just enough effort it seemed to entertain himself with the decent swordsmanship of his opponent. Suddenly a faulty thrust sent Bree’s blade over the strangers shoulder, responding instantly the gleaming blade of the robed traveler lashed out removing the robbers sword arm cleanly, then spinning dramatically his blade sheered down again removing his other arm from the shoulder down as his frenzied fingers moved to stem the blood flow from the first loss of limb. Stepping around from behind the robber who had now fallen to his knees “Who is stupid enough to try to rob a well armed man?” he asked calmly only to be interrupted by a fearful scream, the young man who had witnessed this took off down the road screeching. “The...Old..one....WATCHESSSSSSSSS” suddenly blurted Bree coughing and spitting blood his eyes seemed to fade for a moment then he toppled to the left landing heavily.
Turning his gaze from the dead man he stepped around the corpse shuddering at the sound of yells and running feet, the guard had heard of the brawl and he supposed the word of a stranger wouldn’t be taken to be truth. Flicking the blood from his gored blade he slid it back into place before sprinting off, lunging high he grasped a high ledge and pulled himself up upon the tiled roof rolling onto his belly to watch what occurred below. It was then that he heard a moan from the man he had disemboweled earlier, and he knew things were about to get ugly.
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' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.