A Knight Off Duty (open)

[Rythern]

Rythern listened with interest as the younger man called Sleightyr relayed news of the drunk's friends and the threat that shadowed Sir Deilos - Deilos being the dark-haired man, who was apparently another knight. Rythern, who over the years had amassed an arsenal of stories to tell, but thought it would be fun to improvise one tonight on the spot, filed away the newly acquired morsel of knowledge for later use.

Speaking of the story. The younger knight turned to Rythern.

"I would be happy to hear it," said the younger knight, and Rythern was startled to recognize the functional Vani speech. Had he been judging from appearances alone, the traveling performer wouldn't have guessed Sir Sleightyr a descendant from the People of the Light, but one learned something new every day. Rythern grinned to acknowledge the shared heritage.

After the tavern-shunner was motioned to join them - a motion which Rythern echoed, as well - his attention was diverted as Sleightyr spoke to Sir Deilos, and Deilos turned to the storyteller.

"Right, then," the elder knight said, arms folded across his chest. "Let's hear it."

Rythern grinned again; his eyes lightened to a brighter blue. "Perfect." Sheathing the knife with which he'd been playing around, the young man made a brief bow and cleared his throat. Now to figure out what in Morwen's name he was going to say.

"It starts with the horse, but it doesn't end with the horse," he said, by way of prelude. He sort of liked the way that sounded, so he went on, "Instead, this is a story of people."

Aeyo whinnied softly.

"Though the horse is important, too."

He thought about this for a second, gaze flickering from person to person. He had their names, for the most part - all except Tavern-Shunner, who had remained quiet so far, but Rythern hoped that being friendly would put the man more at ease. At any rate. Hello, leading cast of characters.

"There was a knight who knew too much, and a knight who wanted to learn. There was a man who was alone. There was a storyteller." Pause for effect. Start inventing backstory? Nah. This was improv, so onto plot.

"It was a dark night and a dark time; many days now, the people of the city had been afraid to light their lanterns. There were things that lurked the dark which the night shadows hid, and the people kept it that way because they feared what they would see if they didn't. Their fear trapped them.

"The horse was walking down the alley during one of these nights. Her name was Aeyo, and she wasn't afraid."

At the edge of his senses, Rythern thought he picked up on something. Footsteps, startlingly purposeful. He paused again.


OOCWhat say you guys to having Drunks & Company ambush the scene sometime soon? In the interest of creating action, the footsteps are a potential (lame) setup for that, but if no one wants to deal with thugs, we can just make the footsteps belong to some random passerby.

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

Kamrynn got the feeling in his gut that only came when trouble was brewing. The footsteps were building up to a crescendo, and it sounded like there were many of them. The knight subconsciously positioned himself next to Kavran in one of the "two against many" formations he learned as a squire, and noticed Kavran doing the same.

The owners of the footsteps came into view and Kamrynn's heart hit the floor.

Huge! Half a dozen men built more more like bears than humans, with strong meaty arms and sagging guts, walked into the alley carrying an assortment of clubs, knives and even a few swords. They didn't look particularly friendly.

"Wow." Kamrynn whispered. "Deilos, you sure now how to pick a fight. Look at these guys, they're huge! How did you even manage to bring their friend in?"

"Kavran!" The head man called, he had a heavy beard and piercing blue eyes. His voice was thick and slurred, as if he had been drinking all day. In fact, they all had.

"You cur! You knights think you own every last inch of Mizahar, don't you? What did my brother do last night that a hundred knights haven't done up and down this city without so much as a slap on the wrist?" The crowd around him cheered. "You kids need to learn some MANNERS!" He slammed his heavy club into his hand free for emphasis and the crowd growled their approval again. "So that's what we're gonna do right here tonight! No more hiding behind daddy's frilly pink skirt, kid! Any last words?"

Kamrynn's right hand was locked onto the hilt of his sword, his left on his shield. The adrenaline made him dizzy. He shot Kavran a look, waiting for instructions before he made any sort of move. Off duty or no, Kavran Deilos was his senior and there were many things to consider. Chief among them were the Vanthan and the bar patron in white behind them, they couldn't risk dragging civilians into this.

[Rythern]

Rythern blinked as in moments, a gang of meathead drunks had rushed to circle them outside the tavern, ready for a fight.

Well then. Clearly, people in Syliras didn't waste time.

He looked at Tavern-Shunner, then at Sleightyr, who was looking at Deilos. The expectant expression on the younger knight's face meant these likely were the thugs that his earlier message had warned against. As the vengeful crowd formed the beginnings of an aggressive circle around the four, Rythern realized that for the moment, he was in this for better or worse, so he steeled himself quickly and gave a shove to Aeyo.

"Go," he said firmly. The mare hesitated, but Rythern shoved her again. Aeyo was a windrunner, and she was swift but she was not strong; the young Vantha knew from experience that she was likely to get hurt in an encounter like this. "Do you want to be around for this? I said go!"

She paused still, then turned and broke through the drunk men to vanish into the night. She was smart enough to stay hidden without straying too far. He'd find her later.

That done, Rythern drew two throwing knives - one for each hand - and cast another glance around the gathering thugs. He turned to Deilos. "So... not friends, I'm guessing?"

[Kavran]

Kavran listened with patience and mild amusement as Vakya wove his tale. It seemed that not only was the man good with a dagger, but good with words as well. That could come in handy, later. With a nearly imperceptible nod, Kavran acknowledged the presence of others in the area.

Judging by the shuffle of the feet, and the erratic pacing, the men were intoxicated and completely incapable of walking correctly. Turning around to face the assorted men, Kavran held up his hand to halt any action coming from Kamrynn. Wordlessly, he shook his head a fraction of an inch, and shook his head to the unnamed stranger and Vakya, giving the message to stay out of the conflict if at all possible.

Stepping forward with his chin held high, Kavran stared down the fat, shorter thug with a look that reeked of superiority. He didn't so much as touch his sword's hilt, but instead chose to shake his head at the assembled drunkards and do what he did best.

"Good evening to you, as well, sirs." His words, though not mocking by themselves, carried an air of superiority and condescension, both of which the thugs weren't used to hearing. To put it lightly, Kavran was being far more sarcastic and biting than they had expected him to be, especially considering that he was outnumbered.

"Before you decide to draw your various blades, clubs, and hammers, I feel that there are a few things that must be said... Namely, you lot are far too drunk to even prove to be a real fight. You can barely stand up straight, yet here you are, challenging me, a battle-tested Syliran Knight, to a duel while you're busy stumbling over your own two feet. You would only prove to be a pitiful excuse of an exercise, and there is no justice in slaughtering a band of drunks wandering the streets at night."

Kavran stepped ever closer to the man with the club, and then offered his steely gaze to the crowd before returning the daggers of his vision back to the one that had decided to become the spokesperson for the would-be assassins. The long scar on Kavran's face caught the light and cast yet another shadow over the Knight's gaunt face. At the moment, he appeared to be more of a specter and less of a man.

"You know who I am, sir." Kavran said icily. "And you are aware of the reputation I carry regarding the criminals here. Some of the more creative members of your knitting group have come to the conclusion that I can remove a man's head faster than he can blink, and he'll be dead before he hits the ground. Of course, that's just a rumor..."

At this, Kavran pulled his sword and, in a flash, he had the blade pressed to the side of the thug's neck, pricking his skin and drawing a tiny drop of crimson blood.
"Or is it?" Kavran added, using the tip of the blade to raise the man's head to expose his adam's apple.
"Now... It's true you gentlemen have me and my accomplices outnumbered, and you may even kill me in the fight... But I know something you don't."

A long pause pierced the silence of the night, and Kavran trailed the sword back to its spot on the neckside of the drunken leader. The torchlight from the nearby streetlamp made the blade glimmer with a dull orange, reflected light. The mirage of warmth clashed horribly with the unnervingly cold stare of Kavran.

"I know that before your men manage to kill me... I'll have cut off your head before you can even lift that club of yours again. So, yes, your men may drag my body away from the street after they cut me down, but you won't be walking away from here with your head on. So,"

At this, Kavran's eyes narrowed imperiously, and he motioned for Kamrynn and the others to do whatever they felt they needed to do. Whether it was draw a weapon or flee, he didn't much care. Right now, he was dealing with this, and by Sylir's name he'll have it resolved in a few moments' time.

"Decide."

[Rythern]

At Deilos's words, the leader seemed to pause and reconsider - it was an operation that appeared embarrassingly difficult through the evident haze of many, many beers.

Then all reconsideration was thrown aside as two members of the group gave a drunken roar, apparently having had enough of talking, and charged forward with blades and hammers raised. Much of the crowd followed suit. Rythern and the others suddenly found themselves in the fray.

The young Vantha slashed and stabbed, using the throwing knives in both hands as fighting blades while fists and heavy weapons came in from all sides. He couldn't see Deilos and Sleightyr from where he stood, but he wasn't altogether very concerned about them; they were Syliran Knights after all, and likely to be accomplished fighters. He didn't know about Tavern-Shunner, however, so he made his way over.

Then his light body was bowled over by what felt like three hundred pounds of bulk into the adjacent alley.

Out of reflex, Rythern managed to scramble out of the way and back onto his feet. He found himself face-to-face with two hulking thugs, both extremely drunk. He'd dropped the knives he'd been wielding somewhere along the fall - another reflex, to avoid accidentally injuring himself - and he couldn't see them in the dark, but no worries there. He still had five others in his knife pouch.

Then he noticed the alley was dead-end.

"Shyke," Rythern said aloud. The language of Common could be crude, but also remarkably apt. Particularly in situations like this. He did not just get cornered by a pair of semi-conscious drunkards. He did not.

"Looks like you're stuck, pretty eyes," one of the thugs sniggered, stumbling over himself as he and his companion closed in still further. The huge man's face broke into a narrow-eyed smile, exposing missing teeth.

The other added, with a smile that was equally grotesque, "Any last words?"

"Original," the young storyteller muttered.

But behind him, Rythern felt the grit of a brick wall against his back, and he swore again under his breath. He could throw knives, but to be honest, he wasn't much use at fighting close-range beyond stabbing the occasional unsuspecting enemy. 'Unsuspecting' being the key word there. And while in theory he could stab one of the giants, kill one and he'd just get killed by the other. There was little room to maneuver and worse, both the thugs' gazes were squarely upon Rythern and set to kill. No matter how drunk these people were, it was hard to miss a stationary target that was standing two feet in front of you.

What he needed was a way out. Rythern could move fast; the circus life of his childhood had trained him that way. He just needed someplace to move.

He cast wildly around his brain for ideas as the thugs pressed in. They were far too close for comfort now, and the smell of alcohol on their breaths was overpowering. "What's wrong, Vantha?" one managed to sneer through his slurred speech. "Can't think of anything clever to say?"

It was then that Rythern's thoughts stumbled upon a spark - the events of moments before. Ah, what the hell. It was do it or die, literally. So as the thugs closed the last of the gap, he spread his arms and gave his most disarming grin.

"Do you want to hear a story about my horse?"

They paused in unison, swaying slightly. "Huh?"

Do it or die.

Rythern seized the distraction, drew two knives, and lunged at the space between them.

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

At Kavran's signal, Kamrynn stepped forward to stand just a pace behind the older knight, and to his right. He drew his sword from its scabbard slowly, twisting it as he pulled so as to make a threatening grinding sound as metal rubbed against metal.

He regarded the men, nearly twice his size, with a look that was half smile, half glare, and completely threatening. Deilos' speech was impressive, and Kamrynn almost chuckled. That knight had a gift; he could talk a spider out of its web, and any maiden into bed with him -but he was too good a man to attempt either.

Kavran's speech would have worked too, if not for the barrel of ale polluting the men's thought process.

Chaos erupted, but just as promised, the lead man's head rolled. Now it was only six on three.

Kamrynn darted forward, shoving himself between half the men charging Deilos. His short sword flashed like lightening in a dizzying array of feints. In battle, Kamrynn didn't concern himself with killing men or not, he strove to end fights by whatever means necessary. To that end his blade sought tendons, ligaments and arteries, wherever a small quick cut would have maximum effect.

He caught a hammer blow on his shield so powerful his arm went numb, but he ignored the pain and pressed his attack, pivoting around his drunken attacker and hamstringing the man. As he fell, Kamrynn scored another deep gouge on the inside of the man's elbow. The man could do naught else but staunch the flow of blood.

The Vanthan! Kamrynn cursed as he jumped and somersaulted acrobatically over another attacker's shoulder, then he slid and rolled underneath the notice of another. Sir Deilos would be fine on his own, that much he was certain of, but Vakya had found himself cornered by two of the men, and with only his knives, things looked grim.

Even moving as fast as he could, Kamrynn couldn't reach him in time -but he wouldn't have to. Vakya provided a distraction and rolled between the two men as nimbly as could be, then was back on his feet next to Kamrynn.

I'm with you, friend! Kamrynn offered in Vani. The words felt alien on his tongue, it had been some time since he had used them, but he hoped he had conveyed his message.

The drunks spun around to face them, and Kamrynn went after the one with a sword, leaving the knife wielder to his friend. He caught a clumsy swing with his own sword and brought the man's blade and defenses out wide. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he brought his shield up into the man's jaw.

Teeth shattered, and the drunk teetered and fell. Vakya's opponent joined him only a moment later, riddled with cuts. Behind them, Kavran struggled alone. The two rushed to his aide.

[Elliot Skythorn]

Quickly drawing out his sword while pointing it at one of the men before the potential storyteller, still staying away from the group Elliot growled quickly as he let some words slip his mind "Ignorant fools...and all i wanted was some peace". His breathing quickened while rage suddenly started to overflow his sence of judgement, he started glaring at the man who was still staying still not knowing should he just slay him where he stands or should he give him a chance to run, or at least try and deffend himself.
Elliot was quick to lay a strike on the neck of one of the intruders using the blunt end of his sword, for his rage was still not enough to cause him to kill any of them, he knew that the ones from the previous crowd would have no problems dealing with this kind of scum, but he still could not ressist to the temptation that was to punish those that disturbed his sense of peace. Looking back at the rest of the enemies now surrounded from all sides, they did not look so tough anymore, quickly dropping their swords one by one they started looking around trying to find a weakspot in this pinch, trying to find a desperate way out. Elliot knew it was over, well for the weapons part anyway so he laid his sword back in it`s resting place, and after that he looked back up at all of them one by one expecting some sort of a end to this situation. Elliot could try and fight them further, but that would be rather pointless at this point, so he left for the mayor players, especially Deilos to decide how it should end or at least move along. Those few moments before the knight made his decision were a sweet sound to Elliot`s ears as he litsened to the silence awaiting for some harsh words to brake it like fragile glass.

[Kavran]

The other thugs seemed to be too drunk to understand their situation, but Kavran was a man of his word. The moment everything sped back up into a frenzy, He deftly flicked his sword to the left and placed the strength needed into the strike. The blade that once sat on the thug's shoulder was now slicing neatly through the layers of skin, muscles, ligaments, tendons, arteries, and even the main bone as Kavran had used the style of killing he was most suited to.

The head toppled off the shoulders and the body slumped forward slowly, spilling its lifeblood onto the streets while the Knight turned onto the other two attackers. Without his shield, he was barely above the level of one attacker, so he'd have to improvise what he could. Taking the time to position himself just right, Kavran charged forward with a small horizontal jump and closed the gap between himself and the other two assailants. One swung his sword at him blindly and nicked Kavran's shoulder, but the Knight pressed on, lifting his knee into the man's groin and sending him to the ground, doubled over in pain. The second man lifted his sword up to block an incoming sword strike, but one never came. Instead, Kavran grabbed the club from beside the decapitated man's fallen form and brough it down hard onto the sword, breaking the man's grip on his weapon. Unpracticed with such a behemoth weapon, Kavran dropped it and took his sword back into his right hand. The second thug began to back up, but then his drunken rage possessed him yet again and he curged forward with renewed vigor.

With utter deliberation, Kavran performed a half-turn and brought the sword's blade in from a low arc and up to the opposite shoulder, cutting cleanly through the man's shirt and making a deep gash into his chest directly where he heart was positioned. The man fell immediately afterward, and Kavran turned yet again only to meet the business end of the club he had dropped. Seething, he jerked away from the blow, knowing that the thug he had kneed had come back for revenge. Provoked now, Kavran shoulder tackled the man and pinned him to the ground, drawing his blade across the man's jugular and ending his life almost instantaneously. For a few seconds, Kavran breathed heavily, but got back up and cracked his neck, wiped the blood off of his sword, and sheathed it. He lifted his hand up to his cheek to find a small lump forming there from the club's blow.

"Alright." He said quietly. "Everyone, report."

[Rythern]

Following his madly improvised distraction, Rythern threw his light frame into the narrow space between the two thugs, both throwing knives brandished as he resolved - in that instant - either to squirm his way to freedom or to kill someone trying.

In the chaos that ensued, the young Vantha did manage to claw his way out of the dead-end alley - he was still making vicious slashes with the double knives, and apparently he was either drawing blood or he was bleeding profusely because when his feet hit the open street, he could see the new crimson stains that were dusted like rose petals across his clothing.

Beyond the condition of his clothes, the streak of warm yellow light spilling from the nearby tavern also illuminated the realization that Rythern had wounded, but not killed, his two assailants. The Vantha's typically deep-blue eyes - now tinged brilliant amber in the heat of the fight - scanned the scene around him. The thugs came stumbling out after him, disoriented.

Sleightyr was the nearest ally, darting his way over. "I'm with you, friend!" the young knight called to Rythern in Common-accented Vani.

He turned the blades flat against his palms and raised both hands in a gesture of acknowledgment. "And I you," the young Vantha replied in his native tongue. That brought the two drunks' attention back to both of them.

Together, Sleightyr and Rythern rose to meet the oncoming attackers. The young knight at Rythern's side dispatched one of the thugs efficiently. Rythern, however, was suddenly aware of the stinging pain in his shoulder - he suspected that he hadn't been lucky enough to escape injury in the alley, after all - and he found that the pain now made fighting effectively with both hands more of a struggle.

The thug swung a heavy club at Rythern's head, which he ducked and countered with a slashing movement of his left. That one missed, annoyingly - his left arm was yet to become as skilled as his right - so Rythern continued the momentum to swing his body around, and with his right arm he cut a gash down the drunk man's side.

The man roared in pain but didn't fall; Rythern grinned anyway despite his shoulder. Nice hit. Not bad for a casualty.

Follow up, he reminded himself, and he did so quickly, pressing forward. Now that he'd managed to score a mortal wound, he was back to wielding both knives with confidence, and several slashes later he plunged straight forward and stabbed him. The hulking thug fell to the ground.

Not bad. The young performer was grinning again, rather unduly pleased with himself. Not bad at all.

He turned to see Tavern-Shunner and Sir Deilos, who'd held their ground fiercely. Rythern noticed a wounded drunk squirming on the ground and threw his knife for good measure, where it buried itself into the small of the man's back and killed him.

In a few moments it was over.

"Alright," Deilos said quietly, when the last of the vengeful mob had been dispatched. "Everyone, report."

Rythern glanced at his shoulder and noticed the long bleeding cut, which had begun to sting again. Eh. Well. One couldn't expect to come out of every battle without incident. "Not unscathed," he remarked of himself, "but still in somewhat working order."

He winked while his eye color pooled itself to a light merry blue. His heart was still beating fast. The adrenaline of the fight had yet to quite wear off.

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

Kamrynn lopped off his third and final opponent's hand at the wrist, both disarming the man and literally disarming the man. The newly born lefty screamed, turned and ran as fast as he could, clutching at his stump.

Kamrynn took a great deal of satisfaction in the fact that he hadn't been forced to take the life of any of his attackers, but at the same time he prayed that Sir Deilos hadn't noticed -the world was harsh, and knight's had to steel their hearts in order to survive. Deilos was sure to reprimand Kamrynn if he had noticed the foolish mercy the young knight had shown; it jeopardized everyone's lives.

"Everyone report!" Kavran shouted. His voice carried so much conviction and authority Kamrynn jolted to attention, even raising his hand in salute.

"All fine here, Sir!" And in truth, he was. Kamrynn almost felt bad, he was in plated armor, of course he had survived the attack in good order. His guilt only increased when he noticed Vakya's injury.

The gash on the young Vantha's shoulder looked intensely painful, Kamrynn would have immediately rushed to Vakya's side to investigate his injury, except that... Except that he already knew the young man was alright. Vakya's eyes shone with a happy blue light that said more to Kamrynn's Vanthan blood than a thousand words. He had almost forgotten how pleasant the Vani were, open and honest, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

His own eyes flashed, mimicking Vakya's for just a moment before returning to a deep brown.

Everyone seemed alright, that is to say, everyone who was on their side. Their enemies were mostly bodies, the few survivors moaned weakly, and would certainly join their dead fellows in short order. "There's going to be a whole lot of paperwork for this..." Kamrynn lamented, waiting for Kavran to address them.