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Swords and arrows

Started by Anadwen, December 31, 2013, 03:58:16 AM

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Anadwen

He picked a coin from his money bag and threw it after the thief. "Hey! Buy yourself some ale..." he shouted, but then shook his head at himself. He was probably long gone and has neither seen, nor heard him.

Athran sled off the roofs shortly after, aiming for the closest inn in a hope to find strong wine and a bed to sleep in through the night.

Trying to start a conversation with a thief. Am I not clever? More like mad. What have I been doing? I should have taken my sword and let him go... I hope he's not following me.

He glanced over his shoulder, but there was only darkness.

I still feel a bit sorry for him, though. I got my sword back, but almost roasted him alive.

Lion

It would be weeks before Dram would ever find himself in Ketra again.  This time at least for a greater reason than looking for some easy pocket to pick.  He'd long forgotten that man with the manic flames in his eyes and body.  Just a bad dream from somewhere far away.  Ketra now would serve as the meeting place between himself and a contact that had a particular item of grave interest.  Certainly something to hold the interest of a thief looking for a score much bigger than paltry sum of a miser's purse.

His return came quietly when dusk fell on the silent city, Bane swooping over the rooftops and dropping him gracefully on the slope of a tavern. Dram waited to see the great eagle flew off toward the surrounding forest before moving his way down toward the bottom of the ledge, to slip into the window that had been opened for him.  The sounds of the inn clanged up through the floor boards from the ground level beneath him, and from the sounds of it, patrons were plenty distracted to pay any heed to him coming downstairs.

Dram slipped to the lower floor with casual ease and soon made his way toward the basement door where he was to meet his contact, Ector Maro.  After a series of one knock here, followed by a long three second pause, two knocks, then one again, Dram was granted entry into the dank and smelly confines of the basement. 

He found himself in dim lighting, wood steps creaking underneath his weight as he came down.  The air was afoul with mold and perhaps some rotten food that the innkeeper had forgotten to clean out, or was trying still to sell it.  Despite the smell, the men residing below the bar didn't seem to mind as they smoked and drank and cursed and spat over an intense game of cards.  They hardly noticed the dark elf until one of them perked up.  A rolled cigar hung from his mouth, smoke billowing up and out of it, and he peered up at Dram with dark eyes.  He grinned and snapped his fingers toward a man behind him.  "Oy!  Tell Maro the elf is here!" he said and when the man vanished into the room on the side, he went back to his card game, anteing up.

Dram was directed to follow the grunt that opened the door and he was led into a backroom and the door was closed behind him.  "So you're the Hawk, eh?  Ahahaha!  I'm glad to see you made it in one piece," Maro said in a gravelly voice.  He wasn't a very tall man, but he was stout and with a barreled chest and powerful arms that clasped Dram's hand tightly when he shook it.  Dram wasn't too enthused about the direct contact, but he supposed the sooner it was over with the better.  "Honestly, I thought you'd be taller."

"Yeah, everyone wants to be taller, when they really should be smarter.  But we both know I didn't come here to exchange clever quips.  Do you have the map?" Dram asked.  His red eyes narrowed and measured the man before him, who just laughed and moved across the room toward the chest in the corner.

"Straight to the point, I can respect that.  No reason to make this anymore drawn out than it has to be.  Do you have the payment?

"You know I do.  Show me the map."

Maro gave him a breathy laugh and removed a scroll container from the chest.  Popping off the top, he pulled the map out and carefully spread the parchment across the table.  The map was delicate looking and covered in dust which Maro promptly blew across the room and presented the parchment to his prospective buyer.  "See!  Just like I told you!  It's in rough shape, to be sure, but I know for a fact that this is the old map leading right to the Mynorian Ruins.  And there are no copies.  The price is as we agreed."

Dram's eyes narrowed.  "How do I know you didn't already make a copy?"

Maro seemed to find that devastatingly amusing.  His laugh, however, was really starting to get on the Umbraeon's nerves.  "I knew you would ask such a thing, but making a copy by present methods, getting all the discreet markings accurately would be next to impossible without destroying the original.  At least not with the rabble I have to work with here.  Now are you still interested or what?  Let me see the gold."

Dram gave him the ghost of a smirk and produced the heavy coin purse from his belt.   He set it on the table and shoved it toward him just as Maro grinned and rolled the map back up to be placed in the tube.  But something about his smile that unnerved Dram and his eyes bored deeply into Maro's that he saw his reflection, and behind him came a rope wrapping around his neck.  Dram had no time to react when the goon who had first showed him into the room wrapped it tighter around his neck in an effort to strangle him, but luckily his hands had come up fast enough to place his thumbs underneath the wire before it closed around his neck.

Dram instinctively threw his back at him, running him backwards into the wall and knocking the breath out him and loosening his grip.  He felt like his head was going to explode with the air that was force from his lungs.  Maro, snatched the coinpurse and reached for a dagger he had on his belt, his smile growing even more amused at watching Dram struggle.

"What!?  Don't give me that look?  Did you really think I'd let you walk away with something so valuable as that map?  Hahahaha!"   His laughter echoed in Dram's mind.

The dark elf scowled and just when the man came forward to run him through, Dram's legs shot up, feeling his neck strain as he used the man as a counter weight.  Dram used his feet to catch the knife between his ankles and twisted his hips around to break his grip; though from Maro's cry, Dram could tell it was force enough to break his wrist. Dram dropped his legs, nearly losing consciousness from the force of the wire, and used the momentum to toss his assailant over his head.  Dram coughed and scrambled for the knife, plunging it deep into his throat.  Red was the last he saw before he reached for the map, tossing the string over his shoulder and bashing through the door that had been closed.

But the men outside the backroom were at the ready, and didn't seem like they were going to be letting him out without a fight.  Dram stood back and pulled out his kopis.  Outnumbered ten to one...this wasn't a fight.

This was going to be a bloodbath.

The screams began when the first man attempted to club him.  Dram ducked beneath the blow and slashed the sword across his belly.  All he wanted to do was make it to that damned door!  Dram gritted his teeth and dashed toward the table, throwing it up and over into the crowd as they scrambled around him.  With one good bash, the bolt broke loose for his body was not of the fragile fabric of the human coil, and the iron bolt was rusted and brittle and snapped in his desperation, and he stumbled upstairs toward the main tavern room, with a queue of bloodthirsty rabble behind him.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

A pair of heavy, rugged black boots jumped and thudded on the biggest of tables, right in the middle of the main tavern room, crossing with two much smaller and cleaner shoes. Loud singing and clapping in rhythm echoed in the stale air, as Athran turned around in a fast dance with some woman. They danced and they sang, holding their jugs with one hand while the other was entwined with each other's and placed on their hips. He was singing as loudly as he could, his melodic voice grasping the song much better than the drunkards around, and he saw the woman grinning at him.

The business was going well, better than well. It was the first time in several weeks when his money bag was clinking with coins, full and heavy, and he could even afford new clothes that didn't altogether stink from wine, dust and his own body. Off course, it was no clean business, not at all. Rich nobles pay well for a silent, deadly assassin, and his sense of honor and loyalty to his homeland was long lost, drowned in the blood he spilled in his youth, when he still believed that idle talk like a fool. Now he was older and wiser, and cared naught who he was killing - only how much is it worth.

During the last three days, he was constantly busy, and money was raining like in a summer storm. He didn't waste it, though - he slept in the same rooms and ate the same food as when he hardly had an iron coin in his pocket. He spent all on weapons and armor, the most precious things to him.

But no matter how good the business was, he had to keep it secret. Nobody could know what he's up to, nobody could even speculate what he's up to - and so he spent every evening, just like today, pretending to be completely drunk, black out in his room, and then disappeared through the window. It was going well, and everybody seemed to believe...

There were some that were suspicious of his sudden money, especially merchants and traders, but for those, he didn't care, since their wits were slow and they knew little of the ways of the world. He was hidden before the world, living in the night when nobody is watching. Knight-not knight, he'd trade the remains of his honor for a mountain of gold any day.

He raised his hand, clutching the jug, to his mouth, and pretended to drink, but instead just spilled everything around in their fierce dance. It didn't take long till he stumbled down from the table and walked to the counter, asking for more wine with a wide grin on his face.

"Let it rain..." he laughed. The innkeeper pulled a pretended smile at him, but rolled his eyes when he turned his back to him. Athran was nothing but a lost existence that can't hold himself to him, but he was paying well, and as long as a customer pays, their life is irrelevant.

He returned to dancing. Someone tossed him a lute, and he didn't hesitate to play it, strumming the rugged strings. The time came when the night was darkest, and he dropped everything and strode towards the door.

A dark man with wide shoulders stopped him in the doorway, pointing a dagger at his chest.

"Where do you think you're going, spear-ear?" he growled. Athran popped his eyes out, unable to let out a sound.

Thoughts were racing through his mind. He could simply grab his wrist with the knife, break it, take the knife and kick him into the mud. The option of stabbing him was also simple... But then he would get into serious trouble. After four successful assassinations he couldn't be found like this, revealed by attacking some commoner.

What did the man even want off him? Did someone know about his affairs and dirty work? Oh good gods... If someone knows, there will be a lot of work and a lot of bloodshed. He only really, really hoped it wasn't that.

If someone knew, he'd be most likely dead, or hanging in chains somewhere in dirty, wet dungeons. He still remembered the irons on his wrists from when he was chained for the last time... And it wasn't something he'd like to repeat, but imagining his head severed from his body was a worse thought.

He gulped. His hand sled to a hidden knife in one of his pockets. If this man tries to do anything, he'll stab him...


Lion

Dram rolled over one table and threw himself under another as the men came after them.  Maro soon followed, shouting obscenities off the top of his lungs (and nursing his arm), as Dram scrambled to his feet, coming out from the other end of the table.  The last thing Dram wanted was to get cornered.  So when the men attempted to surround him, his blade slammed into the first man at his right, sending sparks everywhere.  He shifted his weight forward and knocked him back into a few others, before driving his blade home into his gut.  He groaned and fell, rolling over onto his side.

Dram needed to escape, and escape quickly, but with as many as there were, he wouldn't make it to the stairs and to the open window that had served as his avenue of entry.  Damn him if the only way out seemed to be front door, and –gods be damned – of course there was a body in the way.  Dram wasn't about to let that stop him however.

Another sword came from outside of his view and slashed him across the arm.  Dram grit his teeth as the edge opened his flesh and he swung his kopis down right to left, severing that arm and clashing with another.  Sword play was never among his favored activities, and Dram knew it wasn't one he could afford to appreciate now as the noose was getting tighter around his neck.

Two more came from the left and he stepped up on the wall, vault off to kick him across the face, spinning him over and tripping the man behind him.  Dram dove for that opening and headed for the door, bashing into the man, or he would have if he hadn't gotten a look at his face.  "YOU!" he howled and backed away.  Dram's eyes narrowed and his muscles surged with adrenaline, just as the remaining goons came after him.

Now was as good a time as any to head for those stairs.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Athran stared over his shoulder at Maro and his men. They were the last people he wished to see right now, and he was doubtless they sent the brute that was blocking his way out, too. If anyone knew about his dirty business, it was them, and he was in no way on easy terms with them. Any meeting was guaranteed to end in bloodshed and violence. And possibly a few deaths.

"Good evening, Maro." he proceeded to let out, while he silently pulled out a pair of daggers with long, curved blades. Someone from the brutes yelled something rude about elves.

Athran stopped staring at Maro's hateful face and bolted towards the stairs, kicking and slashing everything that got into his way. A hand grabbed his ankle, and it was immediately cut by the blade, and would have been severed if its owner wouldn't pull it back. Someone threw something at him, missed, and he continued his way towards the stairs.

One of the men skewed his own knife into Athran's left hand. He dropped the dagger, cringing in pain, but despite having a hole in his flesh, he didn't stop. "Accursed filth! Rot with the damned rats in the cellars, where you belong!" he shouted. Sparks of flames were starting to appear on the tip of his remaining dagger. He heard Maro shouting something, but except a few curses, he hardly recognized his words in the surrounding noise.

He was already by the stairs, when a huge mass of muscles blocked his way upstairs. "You're done with your dirty business, Daineth!" the brute growled. And in the moment after, he had Athran's shin, and the metal plate that covered it, in his crotch. The man howled in pain and collapsed onto the steps under his next blow, bleeding from a deep stab wound on his neck.

Athran's mind was screaming the worst curses that just came onto his mind, and he payed attention to nothing but the staircase before him - now his only way out. He hardly even noticed what - or who - brought Maro and his men up there.

Lion

The only good thing to come from that Flamehead seemed to be making himself a distraction.  Dram could tell from the sounds behind him after he bounded up the stairs that for the moment his pursuers were halted, giving him precious seconds to reach the room at the end of the hall.  It was too bad it was short-lived relief and soon the men were already upstairs, or what was left of them. 

Maro's men were dogged and vicious and once they were on Athran's tail, it wasn't long before they were on Dram's too.  "Get those dogs!" Maro bellowed, spitting in all directions.

But Dram had something waiting for him as he stood at the end of the hall.  He'd taken a throwing knife from his belt and the dark elf's eyes narrowed.  They honed in on Maro and singled him out in the crowd of assailants and let it fly.  Athran might feel a gust of something zip past his head, but the knife was not meant for him.

A gurgling sound emerged and the thin knife stuck out from Maro's neck as he choked on his own blood.  Dram didn't smile despite making his mark.  His attention was taken by an oncoming sword that he ducked beneath.  Thrusting the kopis forward, Dram rose as he did so, slashing his assailant from belly to throat.  There was no more time to lose and Dram dove for the room.

"Hey!  Flamehead! This way!" Dram growled, climbing out the window and using the ledge to spring up to the ledge of the roof.  He knew the knight could probably chop his own way out, but for the moment he supposed they had a common enemy and it wasn't going to be long before the guards started prowling the place and Dram didn't want to stick around when they did.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Athran quickly climbed out of the window and onto the roof after Dram, although cringing every time he grabbed something. He managed to pull himself up and stand up again, and follow the dark silhouette before him.

"Thanks for dealing with that rat," he groaned. Seeing Maro dead was one of the goals he had for a few years already, and he didn't care who did it - the plain fact that he was about to rot and decay soon was enough for him.

In the meantime, he changed the dagger, meant more for hunting, rather than serious fights, for one of the long, sleek scimitars on his back. He kept the blade from burning, what would only give them away, but prepared to set it on fire anytime. If there was one thing he knew, then that was that they would follow them. At least surely after killing Maro.

And then there were guards. If not the brutes, guards would surely search and follow, and attention from them was just as unwanted. He couldn't afford to be caught - as a knight, he could even get executed. Vision of his own head in a basket flashed before his eyes once again, disgustingly realistic, and he shook his head to chase it away.

All he had to concentrate on now was running. Sprinting up and down the roofs, leaping over the streets underneath, just escaping for his damn life. He heard the men shouting from the window behind... He had to run, and he did run - oh, how did he run. Anything not to get caught by anyone. Athran prized his own neck above anything in this world.

Lion

He didn't know why he did it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.  There were alarms raised in the streets, for there was never a guard nearby when you needed one, but there always seemed to be one in convenient distance when they were least desired.  Dram just bolted after the knight as he ran haphazardly over the roofs of Ketra like a chicken with its head cut off.

"Hey!  Flamehead, wait a moment!" Dram hissed after the knight, but it was too late as voices called out signaling men on the rooftops.  There was no time to wait and Dram looked down along the side to see guards were rallying off and organizing to cut off all points of exit to the ground below.

Dram leapt in lieu of Athran and skidded to a halt when large ladders were suddenly thrown against the ledges and men began to scale them to halt and impede their escape.  Dram scrambled to his feet and ran toward one of the ladders, shoving his body against it to throw it off the ledge.  The attempt was successful, but it was one of many and they were climbing faster and faster.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Ladders were springing from the ground in numbers too great to kick them off. While he would be running from one, another would appear. This was useless... Like this, they will only get caught, and very fast.

When muscles aren't of any use, rely on the mind... And Athran got an idea that may just work. If it would, nobody would get to the roof where they stood. In that moment, he only prayed to gods in which he himself didn't believe that it will work.

"Back! Step back from that!" he shouted. His hand clenched around Dram's shoulder and pulled him away from the ladder. "Keep away from them, if you don't want to end up like a pile of ashes!"

All of a sudden, flames burst from the tops of ladders. They burned brightly, turning from orange through white to bright blue in a matter of moments, and reached high into the night with their tips. The heat from them was searing so much that even Athran could feel it on his skin, though standing far from the fires, and they quickly begun consuming the wood on which they were set.

"I can do this on and on till there's not one ladder left in whole of Ketra..." he groaned, "But if they bring something else, we're as good as dead, I'm afraid."

Lion

Dram didn't know what else the city could throw at them, but despite Athran's show of fire, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the men devised some sort of plan to get them off the building.  As the ladders burned to ashes and were scattered away by the winds, even more came, and braver men that had not fallen when the others taken flame, began to climb once more.

It was almost hopeless, but Dram knew the longer they waited there the less their chances were of escape.  "I have an idea!  Follow my lead!" Dram said.  And he ran for the edge of the building.  Just as two ladders sprung into view, the dark elf ran into one of them  and pushed it off.  But he hung onto it and used the ladder like a giant stilt.  The men stood back before they could climb it and stared back in awe as Dram balanced the ladder underneath him, holding it perfectly perpendicular to the ground and using it to maneuver through the streets, twisting it around, balancing one leg on the ground, then twisting it as he landed on the other and so forth, and stepping between the rungs to keep the ladder moving underneath him.

This certainly beat waiting around for them to get caught.  Not to mention was quickly becoming a hell of a lot of fun.  Dram looked down, watching the guards chasing after the rickety latter, and one of them wielding a rather large ax, looking to get close enough to chop the ladder into firewood.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Athran only stared at Dram in wonder, as he used the ladder itself to escape. Something like that was impossible for him, since although he didn't lack the agility, his heavy armour, chainmail shirt and clinking weapons would not let him perform it. Ladders were springing around him, and more men were already climbing up.

There was hardly anything left for him to do - anything that would not result in him dead, or caught. In desperation, he threw himself against one of the ladders, despite a man already climbing it. It flipped over, slowly collapsing towards the ground, with the elf's figure perched atop it.

Athran held onto it tightly, but right before his end hit the ground, he let go and leaped into the air. Only a moment later, the two planks of wood, holding the rungs, broke in half with a loud crash. The guard on its other end hit the ground with his back and didn't move, but the knight managed to land on the street without any harm greater than hitting his arm.

He quickly sprung to his feet and raced towards the dark elf, who was still crossing the streets on the ladder. One of the guards was, however, most likely about to chop it to pieces with his axe - or would have been, if Athran wouldn't have set him on fire. Tall flames burst out of his body, and he immediately dropped down and begun rolling on the ground, screaming.

But that was just one man, and others were already beginning to catch up with Athran, no matter how fast he ran. He had only one scimitar ready... And one weapon isn't enough for so many men.

It will have to be.

His feet left flaming footsteps on the ground. If he'd try, he could slaughter half of the guards in this part of Ketra... Even though he hoped it won't come to that, Athran Daineth was not helpless.

"Come and get me, if you want me, drunken rats! And die in fire!" he screamed.

Lion

His means of escape was convenient in many ways a couple of which included that allowed him to gain a great deal of ground, and also in that it cleared the general path - most people didn't want to get knocked down or crushed beneath a swinging ladder.  But even Dram didn't know how long it could last as Athran ignited the man with the axe like he was little more than a moth snuffed out by the candle flame.  He almost laughed in amusement, but he had to concentrate on balancing the ladder as he swung it again.

Good gods, what a thrill!  It wasn't quite like flying through the air on a giant eagle, but it was an almost suitable substitute for the time being.  But if Dram thought his escape was going to be that easy, he had another thing coming.

A guard, he had not forseen had some with another axe, as large as the other man had before and swung it down on at least five rungs, but the motion was enough to make the rickety ladder crack and splinter and Dram felt the ladder give way underneath him.  The bottom legs split apart and forced the other rungs to break or fall out of place as well.  Many of the bottom rungs look like steps, and Dram placed his feet on them, in order to keep himself stable.

Dram balanced on his left as he swung the right one outward and slammed it into the guard that broke it, knocking him into a building.  "HEY!  Flamehead!" he hollered.  "HOP ON THE BOTTOM RUNGS!  Leave the rabble behind.  They're just doing their jobs!"  At least now with the rungs dismantled, he had greater range of movement and could maneuver through the streets much more easily than before.

But just as he did that, a hammer smashed into the wood of the left stilt part of the ladder and Dram came plummeting to the ground, smashing the scroll container on his back, and feeling the breath knocked out of him.  His vision split double as he opened his eyes before him, seeing the man that knocked him down, wield the hammer overhead and prepare to smash his face in.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Athran was already prepared to join Dram on the rungs of the ladder, when one of the guards rushed in from behind a corner, and bashed it with his hammer. Dram's figure collapsed from it, and landed on the ground.

The elf leaped to the air, as high and far as he could possibly throw himself, flying like . His legs hit the man into his back, and Athran kicked him down, landing on his body. His sharp scimitar skewed into the guard's neck, and the deep wound meant an instant death. Only when he turned back, he felt another man's sword on his own neck.

"Both of you are under arrest!" he roared. Athran didn't make a sound, only slowly turned his head back. The blade was right above his shoulders... And therefore, on his chainmail shirt. "Come and claim me, if you want, then!" he growled.

His arm slashed back, but the guard grabbed his wrist and twisted it. Athran turned back, kicked him under his ribs, and quickly stood up. Even though his right hand was still in the man's grip, he raised his left fist, and despite the pain that caused him even a simple move like that, he punched him. The guard stumbled back, but Athran cringed, barely standing. Black clouds were dancing before his eyes. He blinked, staring into the darkness of night, blinded by pain.

Another couple of men was already ready behind his back. A circle of fire sprung from the ground, but it was late - one of them was over the blazing border. Athran had only a few options left. He refused to set himself on fire, not wishing for the flames to consume Dram along with the guards, and kept the fire on his blade, instead turning around and slashing everything around as fast as he could. The white flames only flashed through the air like a distorted smudge, burning on the edge of his weapon, and guards stepped back. For a short while, they kept back. Athran offered Dram his hand.

"Come. I may get us through... It will be a bloodbath, but I can get us through." he growled.

And in the next moment, he collapsed onto the ground, as a spear, thrown over the fire, struck him in the back.

Lion

Dram, recovering from the daze of his fall, clasped wrists with the pale elf and pulled himself to his feet.  His head throbbed and his double vision soon relaxed and set his sights on the blaze that surrounded them.  Flamehead certainly was getting friendly with the fire and already the dark elf was sweating bullets.  The guards were dead set on their capture, and though most of them stood back from the fire, several lingered toward the edge of the circle, ready to risk all to see that these two were brought to justice.

But at the knight's words, Dram grabbed his shoulder.  "Don't.  They're not worth it," he said grimly and stared back at the men.  Many were covered in blood and some that were wounded with burns but still continued to fight, trying to brandish their blades and hide behind their shields for whatever was to come.  Dram peered up at the sky, the stars dotting it and appearing dim in that circle of fire.  But when he saw that spear tearing through the darkness, there was no time even for warning, and he saw the knight fall.

Without the concentration to hold it, the blaze soon fell and the guards were at the ready.  But in the precious seconds before it, Dram had thrown the heavy body of the knight over his shoulder after pulling the spear from it, grunting with the effort and taking his blade in the other hand.  The scimitar had a heavier weight than his kopis but it was not wholly unnatural and Dram tested the weight of it.  The touch was heated but Dram would not allow himself to wince from the pain.

Before the men could close in, Dram sprung his legs high up and over their heads.  His body was much more agile with the lack of heavy armor on him.  Save for the body, he was still strong enough to make it to his extraction point.  But it seemed he would need it sooner rather than later.  When he was over the ring of guards, he ran through the nearest alleyway, zigzagging between buildings and finally finding an avenue to leap up onto the nearest roof.  It wouldn't be long before the guards would find the same route.  The Umbraeon looked out into the sky and gave a loud whistle that sounded like a nightbird.

And then the night bird came.  Within seconds, the guards swarmed him, climbing up to the roof and Dram lingered nearer the edge.  When they moved in closer to him, Dram quickly turned and leaped for the edge, throwing himself over hoping against the gods that Bane would catch them.  The black shape moved over them swiftly, agile and grasping them both in his clawed feet.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Athran awoke to the feeling of cold night wind on his face. He had hardly any memories of what just happened - all he could recall was something hitting him in the back, and falling onto the stone tiles on the road. Other than that, everything was just indistinct darkness.

He supposed he hit his head and that knocked him unconscious, though through all the pain, it was difficult for him to think clearly. He'd have sworn he broke something in the fall. All of his body was like in fire, and there was nothing he could do against it. He groaned.

After opening his eyes a little, he could see a great shape above himself, and claws of a bird clenched around him. What was this supposed to mean? Where was the dark elf, and where was his scimitar? And most important, how did he get into a bird's claws?

The flight felt strange, different from riding a dragon, what was Athran used to. The night bird was not as fast as fierce as Maigrod, and he missed the security of his saddle, but it wasn't completely unknown to him. He knew that the most important thing right now was not to move, both because it caused him pain, and because he didn't want to fall. He supposed it would be a long plunge, and definitely to his death.

"Damn the gods... Where am I?" he whispered. Without knowing if the creature can talk, it wasn't really a question. He just wanted to assure himself that he's not still laying in the streets and this is only another strange dream, but that idea seemed less and less likely. Everything around was way too real - and too painful.

Athran closed his eyes again. It took too much effort to even keep awake.

Lion

"Somewhere over the Draconi forest would be my guess," Dram called down from the saddle atop the eagle.  He had climbed up when the gliding speed had lowered and climbed from the eagle's foot to the top of the saddle, but it was too risky to move Athran from where he was within Bane's claw.  At this gentle speed, Dram felt much needed relief from the fighting in the city.

He never did like Ketra much.  And every time he visited the city, his view of the settlement only seemed to worsen all the more.  From the chance meeting with Akenu to the fire and flight out, it only seemed to be a cesspool of poor marks and poorer acquaintances.  At least for now, the knight did not make himself to be a burdensome companion.

"Do you have a name?" Dram heard himself asking over the soft whisper of the winds.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

"I have many names." Athran replied. "But most are just empty titles. The one I go by from birth is Athran." He tried hard to speak loud enough for Dram to hear him, but it wasn't easy. His eyes were beginning to close again.

It hardly mattered where they were right now. After all, he had nowhere to go... He was in the same situation in the middle of Ketra as in the forest. The fact that he had unfinished business currently didn't even come to his mind, but even if it would, he most likely wouldn't care. It was just merchants and nobles - not someone that the world would revolve around.

He remained still in the bird's claws. He was still aware that shaking and moving wouldn't help anything...

The world was fading into black again.

Lion

Dram had heard him for his ears were sharp and were trained to hone in at the slightest change in sound.  Athran.  The name sounded like an elf's, not that Dram looked forward to meeting many elves in his lifetime.  Most of them were ancient and dull and provided no real wisdom than the preaching of their lore.  Which always amounted to nothing.

Bane flew on gently in silence until they reached a hilltop cave, carved away by unknown prospectors in centuries passed.  Athran was set down gently from the eagle's claw and Dram made a small fire much closer toward the darkness of the cave but not quite within.  Over the fire he was mixing something in a poultice and was setting heat to it until the bluish-green substance became pasty and foul smelling.

"If you're dead, now would be a good time to wake up, Athran," Dram addressed him nonchalantly.   "And reveal your back, this salve should help seal the wound faster and reduce risk of infection."




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anadwen

Athran only let out a silent groan. "I can't... I can't reach it." he muttered. With how his arms felt, there was no chance he could take off his coat. "It didn't... Really hurt me, anyway... I have chainmail shirt on... It only smote me down... I'm not bleeding, not from there..."

The chainmail was a good thing - hardly anything could pierce the iron rings that covered both his chest and back. Athran doubted that the spear left anything but a bruise on his skin. What was much worse was the wound in his left hand. It wasn't the first time he would literally have a hole in his flesh, but it felt as bad as that. He could hardly feel it, and his right forearm has gone completely numb.

Despite the fire, he was starting to feel cold. He turned to the side a bit and pulled his knees to his chest. This wasn't anything new to him... But it was a sign of nothing good. He kept his eyes open as long as he could, but his mind refused to keep awake.

"Why are you doing this? Trying... To help me?" he whispered.

Lion

Dram seemed to ignore his question for a time as he helped the elf out of the cumbersome mail.  His expression was hard, stony and mouth a grim frown.  "Bruising or blood, the salve will help you if you don't fight it.  It is unpleasant but you will just have  to deal with it."

He bore the warrior's scars. Burns and blades and the mail indeed had not been completely broken.  Mail could not stop all things but perhaps the spear had been thrown by an unskilled hand and missed his mark.  Dram didn't think of it and took the salve and slapped on a great deal of it.  It would sting to the touch and burn as it cleanse the skin, but he was pretty sure he was used to burns.

Then Dram turned his red eyes to the elf as he spotted the wound on his hand.  "To make us even I guess," he answered at last.  "I don't much care to be in debt with others, whether monetary or otherwise. And for the moment we were companions and I never leave my companions behind."  He took his hand and poured the rest of the salve over it, thickening it mostly into the wound.   "You are almost careless and foolish and will die from it some day.  But that is no matter, death will come for us all.  Some sooner than later."




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

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