Tracking Down Prey (Apos)

[Casper]

There was a long, awkward pause, the Myrian's face giving away nothing in his expression. He reviewed all the knowledge he had of his weapon, what its advantages were... It was efficient against another swordsman, but close combat required skill to keep the opponent at bay, skill that Casper didn't exactly have. He was seriously considering ditching the weapons and throwing a chair at the guy, or something, anything. Casper could feel his heart beating in his chest faster as the time ticked by, slower, and slower... and finally he moved. He was fast, and Casper barely had time to notice him draw the second ulak before he took a step backward in the nick of time. He could hear the sound of the blade cutting through the air in front of him. Then, before he could regain his footing, the right ulak was thrust right at him, and without thinking Casper flung his shield in front of him. The weapon smashed into the shield with a strength Casper would never have expected from a human. Pain rippled through his arm as it supported the knife that planted itself into the wood. He could feel himself being shoved backward by the force, but before he could fall stupidly to the ground, he moved to the left to deflect the momentum of his opponent. He took the opportunity of the blade being stuck in the shield to turn the shield swiftly and strike the Myrian's hand in an attempt to knock the ulak out of his grip. It was not something he had tried before, but if anything it would at least separate the two weapons and allow Casper enough movement to aim a jab with his sword. With a step forward, Casper made a thrust at him from the side. He aimed low towards his hip,and with the curvature of the blade, a successful strike would go right through his intestines. If he wasn't fast enough to avoid the attack completely, the Tulwar would settle with a good slash instead.

[Apos]

Apos cocked his right eyebrow acknowledging the man's defensive prowess as he found the means to escape injury and react. As he saw his opponent step back and evade his upward slash he immediately retracted his hand to his chest as he felt his right ulak smash into the wooden shield. "It held up?" He noticed the small splinters flutter in the air due to the impact of the hit but didn't stray his eyes away from his opponent, for a distracted mind can turn into a decapitated head. Clenching his jaw he felt the man move back a little as the force of his blow created a shove from his shield. Apos moved to bring his right ulak back after the hit, as if he'd thrown a jab and not an all out punch, but before he could do so he felt the man move and slightly lost his footing as his punch was deflected. He slammed his left foot down to keep himself afoot, the impact of his stand caused loose dirt and debris to mushroom around his boot as he ground into the floor to secure his position, both stopping his momentum and keeping himself from falling. When he went for another strike he noticed his blade was stuck in the shield. "Damned wood!" nHis eyes flashed back to the man and saw an emanate strike to his stuck hand. In a fashion of light-hearted adrenaline and panic he used the strength bestowed upon him to turn his blade in the wooden shield and break its way out causing another heavy cloud of splinters to rise and fall almost at the same time. Smiling at the situation, Apos noticed that he'd used up precious time wrenching his blade from the shield and saw the second strike in a tardy fashion. The shining tulwar moved through the air with a poised strike looking to gut Apos where he stood. He brought his previously retracted left hand down to deflect it but was remarkably late as the long blade inched into his skin and was pushed out before it got too deep, leaving Apos a prized slash to his abdomen. Would Apos have been any slower the curved sword would have skewered him, but luckily he was whom he was. The pain of the cut surged through Apos like a well sought after drug would its own addict, and Apos was a person whom was both addicted to inflicting pain and feeling it. His Myrian blood kept his stress level down and for the most part ignore the pain, for it was one of many prizes one would seek in a battle worthy of blood to be spilled on the floor. The blood from his stomach pooled under his clothes and he could feel it as it ran down his stomach and began to clot atop his waistline on his belt and pants. He raised his right ulak and reached across his body to smack the tulwar downward toward the ground as he elevated his left blade and spun once, only to get closer to the man, putting himself in between the blade and his opponent. As he stopped he changed the hold on his left blade and struck it downward looking to stab into his chest cavity and flipped his right ulak into a reversed position seeking to stab into the rite section of his stomach.

[Casper]

A good portion of the shield was shattered by the ulak, a reflection upon the Myrian's supernatural strength. He feared how long he could stay afloat when his enemy was not only skilled but unnaturally powerful as well. Still, there was no time to work out probability when there was a battle at hand. There seemed to be a moment when time slowed down to allow Casper to savor the moment when the Tulwar made a clean cut. It was not the perfect stab he had intended, but it was satisfying none the less to see blood leak through his shirt. And then time returned to its normal cruel state when the blade was knocked downwards before Casper could retract, the pommel of his sabre digging into his wrist under the pressure. The turning trick that the Myrian used did not allow Casper to predict where the next strike would be, and from his disadvantageous position, either an incredibly smart or an incredibly desperate reaction was in order. When he saw the blades coming at him with the sole intention of riddling his body with holes, he went with the latter. Out of the way, his mind screamed as he jerked backwards as fast as he could. The blade's weight slowed him down, so he dropped it as his sole purpose was to just move. Even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he still felt something sharp dig into his chest and side, going deep before they finally retracted with the distance Casper was making between them. He crashed backwards into the bar, panting heavily as the simultaneously inflicted injuries burned through his body. Gods damn it, what did I ever do to deserve this shyke, he thought frantically as his sword lay behind the murderous psychopath. He had come to terms that he'd be judged for being a Dhani for the rest of his life, but was irritated to think it would cause the end of it. Still, these two little stabs wouldn't do it just yet. He just had to find another way... For a moment he pictured becoming the colossal snake that Dhani were truly feared for, the form that had got him in this mess in the first place. He erased the thought from his mind. "There'ss really no negotiating with you, huh, " he said, and with a grunt, Casper hoisted himself onto the bar counter and stood up on it, hopping a little as he tested the solidity of the thing. He took his dagger out, a measly replacement for the sabre but a replacement nonetheless. There were a few mugs laying there, namely the glass that Apos had ordered before the gods decided to screw with Casper. "All because of ssome petchin' Marius," he grumbled before he kicked the cup. It wasn't so much of a kick and more of a push in the right direction, right towards the enemy. He couldn't beat him in proper combat, but he was well capable of throwing a few things at him before finding the right opportunity to bolt for the door.

[Apos]

Apos growled a hum to himself as the man created space between the two after the scuffle was over. Apos looked down to his blades and saw blood on both tips. "So, hes bleeding." He raised each blade after the other and licked the red liquid from the steel. It didn't taste like that of a human, naturally, but there was a bitter-sweet taste to it. Apos stood ready, calculating the best way to inflict further hits as the other man looked as if he was buying time. As he took a step forward he heard him say something about Marius and paused. "Marius?" Apos raised his hand and moved moved his hand over his bald head and spoke again. "You don't know do you? This dates back further than the both of us. This isn't about that petcher Marius. My natural instinct for battle, specifically against the Dhani, or moreso Constrictors is the result of long drawn out wages of war. It was simple. Long ago after the Valterrian the Dhani moved into one of the Myrian' abandoned cities. Now, my people have a certain issue about people trespassing into what they consider to be their land, even worse is if someone actually settled in. The Myrians have actually wiped out several races that have tried to make Falyndar their new home after the Valterrian." Apos often enjoyed telling stories. He was cut short however as he saw a glass coming his way. He blinked and the mug slammed against his torso and broke into pieces. Unlike before, the leather under his clothing prevented injury. The pieces of glass hit the floor and multiplied into smaller fragments. He swept the debris aside with his boot and continued. "Myrians, however, had a little more trouble with the Constrictors since they're more entrenched in Zinrah, and the patron goddess of the Dhani, Siku, actually asked her mother, Caiyha the Goddess of Nature, to step in on her behalf when the Myrians started slaughtering her people. Myri, the patron goddess of the Myrians and an ally of Caiyha, conceded that they won't kill any Dhani - those who stay in Zinrah anyway. So any Dhani found outside the underground city is fair game for death. The Myrians actually have a blockade of warriors encircling that city, keeping watch for anyone who comes in or out of the main entrance." Apos raked his ulaks against each other out of habit, listening the metal as it slid upon each other, sharpening the edges in the process. "Unlike most other feuds its not because of the meat." He said with a disturbing smile. "Some races like Charodae, are hunted just because they taste-" Apos paused closing his eyes in relished flashbacks as his mouth watered. "-they simply taste so damned good. Some humans, depending on where they come from have a distinctive taste also. But you dhani-" he said as he opened his eyes to look at the man "-taste kinda funny."

[Casper]

There was much more to worry about than the monologue that the Myrian was spewing, such as the pain burning like lava in his torso, but Casper found himself listening attentively anyway. His eyes never strayed from him even during his speech, and the door out of the tavern was behind him, to Casper's dismay. He had hoped the Myrian would have given him a chance to at least leave instead of listening to a lecture that had nothing to do with him. "You're right, I don't know. And better yet, I don't give a petching shyke about whatever quarrel the Myrian and Dhani have." The glass smashed into him without any lasting effect, barely a glance of attention given as he wiped the debris from his leather armor. Casper hadn't expected much from such a ridiculous attack anyway, though he was disappointed to see that he wasn't even offended. It was his glass, after all. Instead, he simply continued his story, educating Casper on the history of his "people". As interesting as it might have been though, it only brought pain to Casper to yet again be associated with a caste he did not belong to. "Thiss hass nothing to do with that, you fool," he said, his lips curling after the Myrian described the taste of other races. As if it wasn't enough that Casper was fearing for his life, he now feared for his corpse. The Myrians truly were as savage as they said. "Thiss issn't Falyndar, hell, I haven't ever been closse to that nesst of ssnakess. Sso, could you sstop being ssuch a psychopath and give the halfblood a resst?" For once, Casper was advocating non-violence, and for a moment he had felt a deep loathing towards himself for uttering words of peace. Still, this was a matter of survival, and he had vowed to himself and his mother that he would stay alive best he could. So, a little conversation with the insane petcher who wanted to kill him wouldn't hurt.

[Apos]

"I know you're not from Falyndar. Naturally, you would have started changing forms to better combat me." Apos sighed and sheathed his ulaks to his belt. "You've utterly destroyed my buzz for battle, you didn't have to admit it." As much as Apos loved battle he couldn't kill without opposing interest, challenge, or if his opponent was uncapable of properly defending himself. He wasn't beyond executing a downed enemy however, but this wasn't the case. The man before him wasn't interested in fighting anymore, if he ever was. Apos tilted his head thoughtfully to the side, and looked at the Dhani. Apos wandered if half-blooded Dhani could shapeshift; he'd never ran into one. "Whats your name." With killing out of the picture, he still had a head to collect. Any trophy was acceptable, but he preferred taking back heads, Apos enjoyed seeing the men who hire him wince.

[Casper]

He couldn't believe his ears. Had the crazy bastard truly just mellowed out after whatever he had just said? His head swam as he tried to remember the exact words without any particular success. Seeing the ulaks back at his sides was a relief like no other, but Casper hated what he had to do to get it. As he jumped down from the bar, still keeping a good distance between him and the Myrian, he could feel a sickness in his stomach. So, he was reduced to having someone pity him in order to survive? His face flushed in anger that he could do nothing but suppress, for he knew that he didn't stand much of a chance against his foe. At least not here, not now. Dozens of scenarios rushed through his mind, as he imagined training himself more and tracking him down later, or simply catching him by surprise. "Casper," he replied stiffly, his eyes wary. His heart still thumped heavily in his heart from the recent battle, and he put a hand over the wound in his side to slow the bleeding. He didn't imagine the blood loss was enough to kill him, but the pain did calm a great deal with some pressure on it. He'd have to remember to buy armor sometime.

[Apos]

Looking at him as he spoke, Apos moved his eyes around the bar. He eyed the patrons who'd continued to stare, even after the skirmish was over. Slowly, they all got the idea and cautiously moved back to their tables and seats. The bartender sent a waiter to clean up the broken glass that was previously thrown at Apos, and a few others to sweep up anything else that was put out of order as a result of the fight. He looked up at Apos and Casper, shook his head, and whipped a towel from his waist and began to wipe down the bar, pretending he wasn't listening. Apos straightened up. His feet slid together, as he arms stood at his sides. He narrowed his eyes a bit, a said- "Apos." He made a motion with his head as if asking Casper to follow him out the door as he continued to talk. "Apos of the Rampant Tskanna." As he walked outside, he looked to the left and right, and waited for Casper seeing how far they'd get into tracking this guy down, if they did at all.