The bandit, forgetting about his sword at his side, crouched down towards his feet, moaning in pain as blood soaked his boot a dark brown. Wrapping his hand around the hilt of the blade, he whimpered as the metal shifted, slicing into his severed nerve endings, damaging them even further.
With a loud scream, he jerked the kukri free and tossed it aside. He leaned against the tree, putting his weight against the thick trunk. He looked up at the Svefra, face drawn, pain and anger fighting for control over his features.
Kel winked at him, face pale from the loss of blood. He looked down at bare torso where the red tinged bandages wrapped around his wound and then back up at the man. He snorted at the obvious agony the outlaw was in.
“Aww, stop bein’ a lil’ girl. Yehr' embarrasing, yehr'self. Tis’ just a flesh wound. But now tis’ a even playin’ field. Yehr’ friend cut me, ‘n I crippled yeh’. Wouldn’t want yeh’ ta’ be cheatin’, now would we?”
Kel’s normal flair in combat was minimized for the time being. But that didn’t stop him from making snide comments. He didn’t need the man to realize what bad shape he was in. His focus was keeping his grip on his trident and keeping the forest from spinning around him. At least his injury was bound and would hopefully keep it from bleeding too badly. He hadn’t even spared a thought for the Konti. She would either fight and live or fight and die trying.
That was a worry for another time though.
The black haired Tempest cast all other thoughts aside and advanced towards the man. The bandit’s eyes widened as he saw Kel move forward, trident in hand and he fumbled for the weapon at his side, trying to keep the weight off his foot at the same time. He managed to draw it and hold the sword in front of him.
Kel’s blue eyes zeroed in on his prey, a feral look coming across his face, his animalistic nature coming alive. Fighting wasn’t just something he did; it was a way of life for him. It was who he was. He lived and breathed it. Even injuries couldn’t keep him from it. Kill or be killed. And he’d be petched if he let some no life take it away from him.
The bandit swung his sword down as Kel came within range, trying to get a lucky shot in as he balanced himself on the tree. Kel batted the strike away with his trident, a stab of pain radiating up his side at the motion, but he forced it out of his mind. The man hastily brought his sword back around and attempted to stab his opponent through the gut, trying to force him back.
Kel sidestepped, grunting as he stumbled on the uneven ground, jarring his wound once again. He was usually much more observant to his surroundings when in combat, but his mind was clouded and he wasn’t thinking very clearly.
Before the bandit had time to retract his weapon and attack again, Kel grunted in pain and swung the butt of his trident up and around towards the man’s head.
The blunt end connected soundly with the thug’s temple, smashing his head to the side.
Right into the trunk of the tree.
The double blow sent the bandit reeling back and he lost his balance as his injured foot instinctively moved to catch himself, causing him to collapse when he tried putting weight on it. He hit the ground and lay there stunned, fighting unconsciousness, hand still gripping his sword.
Kel spat in distaste as he advanced once again on his adversary, his weapon held loosely in one hand, sweat coating his naked torso. The man finally came around, becoming aware of his surrounding and the approaching doom that took form as the tattooed Svefra. A look of fear sprung into the downed man's eyes and he tried scrambling backwards, dragging his bloodied foot behind him.
“No p-please…don’t hurt m-me…we didn’t mean to hurt y-you…we…we just wanted to scare you…”
Fire flickered in the Laviku blessed eyes, the dark blues flecks of ice. Kel spun his trident so the three blades pointed towards the dirt and he jabbed it into the ground, pinning the retreating man’s baggy pants to the ground, efficiently immobilizing him. The rope, that tied the pants to the man's waist, was too tight to allow him to slip out of them. Even if he managed, the fabric would catch onto his injured foot and cause exceeding amounts of pain. The outlaw wasn’t going anywhere.
Kel nodded his head up and down slowly as he let go of the shaft of the trident. He moved over to his discarded kukri and gingerly bent down to retrieve it, a flash of pain causing him to wince. Blood rushed to his head as he bent down and he almost passed out but sheer willpower kept that from happening.
He was going to regret all of this on the morrow.
The injured warrior moved back over to the bandit, who had meanwhile been wrestling to free himself while the Svefra was away. Kel lifted the curved blade and ran a finger over the razor sharp metal, inspecting it closely, ignoring the man, his attention seemingly locked onto his weapon.
Finally he sighed.
“So yeh’ mean ta’ tell me, after yeh’ found yehr’ mates, dead in a clearing, yeh’ weren’t mad at all? Yeh’ thought teh’ yehr’selves, ‘we should just prance through ta’ woods and ask ‘ery one politely if they were teh’ monster responsibly for riddin’ the earth of vermin?’ And then yeh were just gonna ‘scare’ ‘em? Maybe even, ‘talk’ to ‘em?”
Kel shook his head slowly, tapping the tip of the blade against his chin, mockingly.
“Tis’ just doesn’t sound right ‘ta me.”
The Svefra bent down, eyes locked on the man, holding the shaft of the trident for balance and reached around behind him, placing the kukri against his lower back, under the black sash where it rested securely. Before the man had time to respond, Kel winced as he stood and jerked the trident free.
“But I think of me self as a decent guy ‘n maybe yeh’ were tellin’ teh’ truth. So I’ll be givin’ yeh’ one chance.”
The man looked up at Kel shocked, unsure whether or not the Svefra was telling the truth or not. He clearly didn’t trust the Tempest but he also wanted to escape as fast as he could. Uncertainty was written all over his face.
Kel just lifted one eyebrow, waiting for a response. A dark smile tugged at the corners of Kel’s otherwise passive face. He had no intentions of letting the man go. But he assumed the man wouldn’t go without trying to get his revenge somehow. And when he did, he might as well have just signed his own death warrant. It was a game to the Svefra. A very, very dangerous game.
Finally, the bandit came to a decision and he scrambled to his feet. He started to hop off, when he remembered something; his friend.
“Sven?”
The man looked around for the first time, casting his gaze about the woods for his friend, having realized he hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone other than his opponent. His eyes rested on the Konti before slowly shifting towards the forest floor where his friend lay unmoving.
Kel could see a turmoil of emotions work its way through the man until he finally settled on one: rage.
A roar burst from the man’s lips and he half charged, half limped towards Alaia, sword held high.
Grip tightening on the shaft of the trident, Kel prepared to intercept the enraged man and end his attack. But something stilled his hand. He wanted to see how the Konti responded. Maybe she would impress him.
