[hr:2r62xis2][/hr:2r62xis2]ooc: For the sake of making this fight interesting, I think I'll take control of the Bounty Hunter. I've decided to make him non-magical, but instead a seasoned, trained warrior of sorts.
[hr:2r62xis2][/hr:2r62xis2]
As wary as the bounty hunter was being of the 'cursed' demon child, it was a little hard not to notice flames rushing towards you. He also could not ignore the fact that the slave traders had been stopped by some kind of interloper and had made not of this earlier.
As destructive and fearsome as fire was, it had been a long time since man discovered flame and has since learned how to tame it. With precious few seconds before the flames were upon him, he ripped off his weathered cloak and threw it up and towards the roaring flames.
It was not an enchanted cloak, and didn't have any secret gadgets hidden inside. It didn't even have pockets. It was just an old, warm, cloak whose color matched his boots. The flames struck the cloak, and it went up in a blaze. The fact was the cloak was a solid, and it had won out against the fire which was a plasma, stopping it in its path, but this was not where the Bounty Hunter had stopped. As soon as he had thrown his cloak he began reaching for his weapon: As small hand-crossbow.
It was a small and sleek weapon, which made it concealable. This coupled with its ability to launch it's bolt quickly, and most importantly, quietly, made it the perfect weapon for a hunter. It could not cover great distances like larger crossbow or longbow might be able to, but it could cover the street's distance with ease. He raised it up using the fire as cover concealing his movements.
He had taken in the lay of the land, and memorized roughly where the interloper was, but he could not rely on this alone. He used this memory, plus what little he could see of the man beyond the flames, to construct a mental image of his target. He was aiming mostly at this mental image and fired off a bolt aimed at the leg. What's most impressive was that he did all of this before the burning cloak could be pulled down by gravity.
It was his habit to not aim for kill shots, as he usually got more money that way. It was a shot designed to pierce the leg and pin the target to the ground. He had been relying on his training and instinct, with out much thinking. This allowed him to move as quickly as possible, and so avoiding this instinct wasn't possible at the time.
The bolt soared through the air. It had both speed and silence on its side. A deadly combination. It flew over the flames and cloak with ease, despite the fire licking up at it. Of course the cloak's weight had brought down the fire by now, and it continued to fall down towards The Quiet.
He had looked up just in time to see the flames falling towards him and turn away, protecting his exposed face and hands. Everything else was covered in clothes and would have had at least a little protection, albeit not much. There was no time to avoid it, but he urged himself to remain calm.
"Once you fight your will to live, you'll see you have more to give..." Suddenly, the thought rang out through his mind, and suddenly all the noise and chaos around him seemed to... quiet down.
The burning cloak fall so close, he could reach out and grab it. That was exactly what he was waiting for, and that is exactly what he did. He could feel the searing heat reach out and punish his wretched mortal flesh, and that was his cue. He responded, by throwing his hand back and up taking the cloak in his hand. His left arm and hand were severely burned in the process, but it was better than having it happen to his face and body.
Sure he had saved himself at the cost of his arm, and sure he was in great pain, but his calmed mind could not ignore the opportunity in front of him. He looked to the Bounty Hunter, his eyes filled hatred and killing intent and returned to him his cloak.