[Stumble Alley] A lil' trouble (Open)

[Eridanus]

Disclaimer: There may be disturbing violence in the following, please do not read if you feel that you're sensitivities will be offended by a lil' hack-and-slash!

Day 3, Fall of 511 AV 22nd Bell Stumble Alley The combined chimes of clocks and various other time-keeping devices resounded throughout the city, and even though most of the streets were almost empty, the remaining people left in the open could be seen scurrying hurriedly, trying their best to finish whatever business they had and escape to the safety of.. well, there wasn't exactly any place in Sunberth that one could be absolutely safe, unlike in the castle in Syliras. Others with more sinister intents waited in the darkness, plotting and scheming, eyeing the more vulnerable citizenry greedily. A single man was also travelling, looking like he knew where he was going, but suddenly changing directions as if he changed his mind as to where he wanted to go. When he heard the bells, his hands involuntarily twitched towards his back, where lay strapped two parallel-hung long swords - one of steel make while the other of cold-iron - and he increased his pacing, an air of nervousness beginning to emit from his figure. This was highly inadvisable, and the more observant ones in the background were beginning to stalk him, to be drawn to him, for nothing attracts the viler citizens of the criminal neighbourhood more than fear. On first look, this man seemed like your typical wanderer. His tattered tunics and seasoned boots giving the first hint, and the way he placed his weapons a second hint. There was no reason for subtlety, both weapons could be easily spotted a distance away, with their odd shapes jutting out of his silhouette, as the wilderness would not wait before attacking and a seasond adventurer would want the most convenient access to his weapons. If one were to look closer, however, this was definitely no ordinary man. For even if one were to discount the ethereal beauty that seemed both heart-wrenchingly attractive yet terrifyingly alien; even if one were to discount the unnaturally snowy mane atop his head; even if one were to discount the constantly majestic bearing and the way he gave the impression of floating despite his hurried nature, one cannot discount the two obsidian horns protruding out of his head that screamed of his inhumanity. He was not simply, human, and it was impossible to ignore that. And it was this very reason that stayed the hand of quite a few eager cutthroats and muggers who did not like being surprised, for who knows what kind of tricks such a creature up his sleeve? No, they preferred to hunt the weaker aspect of the population who obviously could not defend themselves, and so they moved on, in search of a better target. Still, others looked on with interest, intending to sell this piece of information to anyone who would be interested, or even better - sell a piece of him to anyone who was interested. However, even they stayed their hands and looked elsewhere when the Ethaefal quite literally stumbled into Stumble Alley. Eridanus almost tripped on a piece of unequally layed brick, his hands wide out to support himself, and almost flattening his nose against a concrete wall that he found himself next to. The alley was dimly lit, but from his estimation it should be a short-cut to where he hoped he was heading. It was already dark, and the locals advice against staying out longer than one needed to. Not knowing that this was the notorious Stumble Alley, he paused for a moment, weighing his options before finally deciding to walk into it.

[Eridanus]

The surroundings were barely visible, but his celestial form, being a child of Leth, adapted easily to the low-light conditions and the illumination provided conveniently by his patron god, allowing him to at least not trip over his own shoes. He wouldn't be able to perform hundred-meter archery feats in this condition, but he believed that he would at least be able to find his way without knocking senseless into a hard object. Like a wall. Unfortunately, things rarely went smoothly in Sunberth, and further more so in this hideaway, and the Ethaefal would soon have more things to worry about knocking into. Sharp ends for exampe. Sharp ends capable of rending into flesh and stilling the heart. Sharp ends wielded by desperate souls in need of currency to get their next quick fix. Or even sharp ends wielded by cunning fellows out to make some form of profit, dead or alive. He emerged from an alley into a small opening, with branched out into several more narrow corridors. Now, if the small opening was empty, he would have gone straight ahead into the corridor in front, eventually ending up at his desired location after a hard day of travelling. Remember the thing about things generally not going smoothly in Sunberth? This inconveniently happened to be one of them. The Ethaefal unwittingly emerged into an opening that held four rough and rather shoddy looking fellows. Whether they were beggars, outcasts, downtrodden mercenaries or even a combination of the three, Eridanus would never know. What he did know, however, was the hungry look the three gave him upon staring at his tunic - which was rather worn-out but still comparably better than the rags they had on their backs - and his shiny and well-maintained blades, probably thinking that they could be sold for a profit, never mind that they were actually weapons he could use against them. The heavy whiff of alchohol, desperation and grime added nothing positive to the mix, and it was unsurprising that they would rise to beat him senseless until they could loot his items. A normal civilian would probably find himself awake the next day (hopefully with no permanent injuries, if the miscreants did not overdo the beating) with absolutely nothing at all. No money, no clothes, no shoes, even his undergarments would be missing. If he were a lady... she would probably prefer not to wake up after they were done with her. No, let's take this hypothetical man, he would probably wake up with many bruises on and a splitting headache, stumbling his way around trying to find his orientation, and the other more fortunate passers-by would be gossiping in whispered tones on what could have happened to him. Then again, a normal civilian familiar with the lawless city probably would not venture into Stumble Alley especially at night, unless there were special circumstances like the one Eridanus found himself in. However, Eridanus was not the typical normal civilian, and he did not intend to undergo such a plight. Noting that the thugs did not draw any weapons, and their rags were too flimsy to hide any, he chose not to draw his blades, raising his fists calm manner, his legs shifting apart slightly. It was not to say he was calm and ready. On the contrary, his heart was pounding and an inner voice screamed at him to either bolt the other way or draw his blades and slay these unfortunate buggers immediately. However, his humanity also forced him to not kill unnecessarily, and it was this same moral code that forced hi to remain calm in order to assess the combat situation and respond accurately and precisely. Side-stepping constantly, he endeavored to ensure that only one of them was within a comfortable brawling range from him, not stopping until his line-of-sight of the other three was suitably blocked by the nearest beggar. This was a basic rule of manouevring when fighting outnumbered. It was also most effective, for this only riled the beggars up more, essentially disrupting what little concentration they already had but probably opening himself up for a new world of hurt should he be defeated. When he lined-up his opponents, he stopped for a moment, dodging to the right to avoid a clumsily thrown right hook. In a fluid movement, he straightened up, simultaneously throwing a series of flurries and jabs in his familiar combat style with preference of speed over force. This surprised the beggar, and he took this window of opportunity to out-manoeuvre the man, succeeding in redirecting the man's counter-punches and suitably entangling them with one hand, leaving his other hand free for a short moment. Wanting to end the scuffle quickly, he wasted a precious second or two channeling the stream of raw power deep within his body. "By the moon, I call the strength of the holy." He whispered, his harsh voice a stark contrast to both of his forms' conversational lilt. "With celestial might, the innocent shall prevail." He swung his free arm towards the man's head, as he felt other parts of his body relax, the energy in those muscles gradually drawn to his free arm. "Together with divine intent, concluded with force." He finished, his arm suddenly speeding up with supernatural force. The man's eyes widened in surprise for a split second, his arms desperate reaching towards the blow heading to his face to protect himself. However, by nature of how his hands were positioned by the previous exchange of attacks, he was too slow, and his lost consciousness immediately, his limp body flying backwards as if it were hit by a wagon and into his fellow beggars, staggering them for a moment as they began to utter a mix of chatter, surprised tones and swearing. Eridanus pondered if he should deal with them to prevent it from biting him in the back later on, or if he should escape the encounter and sprint in the direction that he hoped was correct.

[Idue]

As Idue tailed the man ahead of him with two longswords on his back, he wondered why he was doing so. He had been in Sunberth for a few days, and this was only his second day in Stumble Alley. But already he knew it wasn't safe, especially at night. Which was why Idue often tailed individuals as if he wished to catch them in some deserted alley. It seemed some people left you alone when it appeared you were man enough to do the same they were planning for someone else. Or maybe it was the two handaxes thrusted through his sash around his waist. All he knew it was going to take a while to learn everything there was about this city. And even then he might never fit in. Straightening his turban, Idue was rather glad he had followed this man. Not because he looked well-off; Idue had no intention to mug him, nor was he sure he could. But really he was glad to be back-up for this man when he happened to walk up on four men who eyed him as their gateway to gold. Even from the entrance of the alley, Idue could smell the alochol odor from those men, and even a sheperd from Ekytol knew ale was never a good mixture for any man. But Idue noticed none of the four men pulled any weapon out. It still was an unfair fight, but the man ahead of him didn't seemed frightened. Instead he held his hands up in a fighting position, spreading his legs like he knew what he doing. Side-stepping and ducking, the man found an opportunity and took it. Idue heard the man speak a few things to the man he trapped, and then with expertise Idue didn't have, drove his fist into the man's head. The begger flew back into his friends, and strings of curses flew up. Idue wanted to cheer the man on, but he knew the fight wouldn't be the same now. These men knew what this man could do, and probably would attack all together this time. Could this man handle three people at once? The Benshira doubted this man, even with the skill he had already seen, could survive the onslaught without using his weapons. And what if they didn't give him time to even reach for them? This man's chances looked slim, and Idue only knew one choice of action. Stepping out of the alley, Idue stepped up to the man's right. Moving his handaxes over so they were visible to the beggers, Idue spoke to them all. "Good fighting, stranger, but I'm sure back-up would be a nice help. Should we go in with fists or weapons?" Idue turned to look at the man. He was just there to help. All he knew that three more beggers would be shown why to earn an honest living instead of trying the impossible.

[Eridanus]

As Eridanus pondered, he remembered to release his grip on the djed coursing into the striking arm, and consequently felt the mild numbness on the rest of his body fading away as proper balanced was restored again his body, the muscles regaining their full range of functions and the nerves properly firing off impulses again. He felt a figure behind him, and immediately stepped backwards to the side so that he could maintain vision over his assailants and this new arrival. His reflexes guided his hands towards the hilt of his long swords, but he consciously stilled them, deciding to reserve his judgement until more information is revealed. The man spoke his piece, and Eridanus was suspicious, for he knew that nothing was a coincidence. Perhaps he was a con man, or maybe a new cut-throat pretending to help him only to stab him in the back when he wasn't noticing. He could even be a part of the beggar's scheme, and maybe their real ace in the hole when dealing with wanderers like himself. He would deal with him later, though, and shrugged, indicating that the decision was up to the man. He did not wish cause unnecessary bloodshed, sure, but his morality was pretty variable and he viewed this ethical code in the same way considerate vegetarians viewed theirs: practising it on their own but not imposing it on others. He also knew that it would be impossible to impose his moral code on others as well, especially not in the city of anarchy where violence and bloodshed were common occurrences. The Ethaefal eyed the thug nearest to the opposite end of the opening, and in a burst of speed leaped in that direction, rolling at the last moment to prevent suffering unnecessary impact damage or overstraining his legs by landing straight. In one fluid motion, he kicked the wall in front of him, launching himself slightly into the air and backwards into that same thug, the very nature of his unorthodox attack allowing his to land a painful elbow jab into the man's face. He heard a crack. The beggar would probably have difficulties breathing properly for the next few weeks. He chose this target especially to make sure that he and this new arrival was opposite ends of the room, thus limiting the man's options if he was indeed aiming to back-stab Eri while he was in a tangle with one of his assailants. This also put the beggars in between the man and Eri, and would force him to engage the bandits or risk being exposed if he was one of them. It was pretty foolproof, if he might say so himself, and he credited his Vantha perspective for being able to think up of such a sneaky plan in the midst of combat. The beggar did not give up, though, and he quickly recovered from his surprise, the alcohol probably dulling the pain that he should have actually felt if he were sober. Eri dodged a left cross, and took stepped backwards to avoid the second beggar's kick. It was fortunate for the man that the alcohol provided this numbing effect and allowing him to continue battle, but it was to Eri's benefit that this same agent clouded the beggar's mind, causing him to make judgements sober people would never do. An example of this was the first beggar's following attack, which was a strong straight-on punch at Eri's head, which might actually result in a knock-out or very painful headache if it actually connected. The Ethaefal was the sober one in the area, though, and this afforded him relatively quicker reflexes and even faster thought processes. He instinctively ducked, the blow sailing over his head and into the wall behind him. The very same wall he kicked off against to deal that nose-crunching elbow jab. Alcoholic regeants provided mild numbing effects, but it was not surgical anaesthesia, and the thug's eyes watered as he disintegrated his own knuckles against the hard concrete wall. Eri seized the chance to place his hands on the ground, swinging his body in a wide-angled kick that sacrificed speed and flexibility for raw power. This was the most he could do in this weird, half-duck and half-crouching position, but he chose to deliver a quick attack instead of recovering into a more normal stance to prevent the beggar from doing the same. He also had to take into account the second beggar, who was deciding if he should barge in and risk injuring his comrade in friendly fire or to wait for a window of opportunity. The man doubled up in pain, and Eri ended the kick by kicking his legs off the point of contact which was the man's stomach, pushing him to the side further away from his second assailant and he straightened his awkward position partially, keeping his knees bent and he relaxed his hands for a short moment before bringing them up again in a martial arts pose. The fatigue from his flashy techniques began to set in, however, and so his stance was hardly one that a martial artist could be proud of. It was sloppy and spoke of ill-discipline, but it was the most he could manage in his state of exhaustion and to reserve energy. He was not too sure if he could pull of the next technique he planned, but he knew that if he succeeded he would end this session quickly and without fuss. Channelling once again the djed within his panting body, he whispered even softer so that the new entrant could barely hear him, covering it up with the occasional heavy breathing and pant to disguise what he was going to do next. He did not like using magic in the presence of a stranger that he might or might not fight later, but he saw the benefit of a quick victory to reserve more energy if he actually had to fight the new entrant later on. "Ol' ye lights, focus now on my balance." He grunted, imagining the many tiny streams of djed coursing through his body converging to the general area around his hips - his center of gravity. "Venture down, seeking mobility, giving up your strength." The words helped to visualize the workings of Flux, and he learned his mantra from a fellow practitioner a long time ago, using it due to habit. And the effectiveness of its imagery. "And nimble I become, like the wind I proceed." He finished, his upper torso slightly deflating in posture as energy was redirected to his legs. Eri dashed forward while the man was still disoriented from the previous attack, his augmented form allowing him to leap with unprecedented speed. In a flash of movement, he stepped onto the man's knees, forcing his legs to wobble uncertainly and potentially spraining his ankle, the increased ability helping him to push use the man's knee as a foothold and leap further upwards, driving his knee into the man's chin. His head jerked upwards rigidly, and as Eri landed he plunged his elbow into the man's upward-looking face. This combination of pain that was now assaulting the man's senses finally overwhelmed him, and he crumpled on the floor, his senseless form now oblivious to the world. The Ethaefal once again attempted to calm his body, dissipating the unnaturally gathered djed in his legs and feeling the warmth of the muscles in his arms more readily again. This time, however, the recovery was not as fast as the first time, and certain parts of his torso still felt a tad waterlogged, the trickle of djed from his legs taking a longer time to find the stream where it originally belonged. Before the second beggar charged, a loud thump was heard and both Eri and the beggar turned their head instinctively towards the source of that sound. It seemed that the new entrant had defeated the other beggar, his limp form slumped on the floor. It didn't look like he would be getting up any time soon. Not within this combat frame anyway. That made Eri's potential attacker the only conscious person left. He looked at Eri and looked at the man again, and he fidgeted, finally bolting out of the same alley that Eri came in, making the right decision to flee. Eridanus sighed, then relaxed his muscles, still keeping his legs slightly bent for convenient manoeuvring should the man showed signs of attacking, but partially also because of the excess djed that was still in there that prevented his legs from fully relaxing. He'd have to wait until it fully re-integrated into the rest of his body before he could do so anyway. He glanced at the man, taking in features that he had not noticed earlier, but could observe now that the immediate urgency of the situation was over. From the eyes and the headgear he wore - Eri believed that it was called a turban - it was highly possible that this man was a Benshira. He was as out-of-place as Eri was in Sunberth, though it was not saying much for himself as Eri was out-of-place in the mortal plane as he was supposed to be dwelling in the celestial realms as Leth's chosen, if the Valterrian had not taken place. "Thanks for the assistance. But I am curious as to your motives, especially how did you end up here?" He waved one arm expansively to indicate Stumble Alley, for what were the chances of two adventurers meeting at the exact moment in time when one of them happened to be accosted by half-drunk miscreants? Pretty slim, in his opinion.

OOC: Wow I didn't expect anyone to reply, actually. Welcome to my thread, and as you can see it was originally intended as a solo. No problems though, no worries Take note that I sped things up a little there as I wanted to fulfil certain character development goals that I had in the forming of this thread that started out with the intention of being a solo. Still, you can see that I put the disposal of an enemy in a pretty vague manner to allow your Benshira to deal with the guy in his own way. This is only the beginning, so I hope you'll enjoy the ride!

[Idue]

Yeah, beware the open in your title, because I'll probably just jump in. But really I'm just someone here to witness your character development. This is just your thread with a unforseen benefit.

Idue watched the man reach for his longswords, but stopped before he drew them. For what reason, the Benshira didn't know, but if this man didn't wish to kill, neither did Idue. Plus, how would Yahal feel if one of his people killed for no reason? Sure this man had reason, but Idue had none. This was not his fight, and he had jumped in for little more than to help someone who didn't seem to need any. How could be pure while doing impure things? So as the man launched into action, Idue drew his handaxes. These blades had a blunt side, and could be used for knockout blows as well as killing. So while the man handled one man, Idue took up the other. He was ready for an attack from the third consicous begger, but his main focus was on the man ahead of him. Holding his axes in a reverse grip so the blunt side would strike, Idue stepped forward. Whether it was the man's drunken stupor, or his personal stupidity, he attacked an armed man head on. Swinging his right hand straight for Idue's jaw, the Benshira lifted his weapon up to block it. A grunt is heard from the man as his bones crash against steel, and Idue takes the opportunity to drive his right axe into the ribs of the begger The man stumbles, and Idue swings his left axe at the head, hoping for a quick knockout. But the begger ducks underneath the blow, and spears Idue in the stomach. He charges forward until Idue is driven back first into the stone wall, and the begger begins to light Idue up with jabs to the gut. After a few jabs, Idue suddenly drives a knee into the begger's stomach. The man doubles over, and Idue delivers a knee to the face. With a slight twist of his right arm, he brings his axe to the man's temple, and sends him into the wall. For some reason though, the man is still able to stand. Granted his left eye was swollen shut and his nose was bleeding. But now the man had no chance as he couldn't see well anymore. Half-blind jabs miss wildly, and Idue steps back with each miss. In the middle of the little opening, Idue ducks under yet another swing, and sends one of his axe heads into the man's knee. The man drops down on his knees, and looks up at Idue. All he could do was spit at the Benshira before he was knocked cold with Idue's left axe. The man slumps over, landing in a puddle of water from the recent rainstorm. Turning his attention to his partner at the moment, he noticed that one of his opponents was too out cold, and the only left standing was fleeing while he still could. Idue slid the axes back through the sash around his waist, making sure the heads of his weapons were positioned so they would hold themselves up. The man seemed to study him for a moment, before asking him why he was here. It was a good question from the man's part. Why would he get jumped by four men and saved by one? "My motives were honest, stranger. You were my front. Make others appear I was tailing you, and I was left alone. I had no intention of even confronting you, but it seems I was caught in it anyway. But surely you would know that Stumble Alley isn't safe, especially at night. This is my second day in Sunberth, and I knew that." Idue wondered why this man could be so ignorant of this. And it only solidified Idue's belief that Benshira were the smartest race out of them all.

[Eridanus]

He heard the Benshira's reply, and from his experience he could tell that there was a grain of truth in it. He had not thought about it, but the stranger's reason was pretty logical, for despite the lawlessness in the city, even thieves have their own twisted set of rules that they follow, and they usually preferred to not to target fellow criminals unless they were desperate. He marvelled at the effectiveness of his plan, though he would not use this plan himself for he did not like the idea of stalking someone else just to feel safe. Neither would it have worked, especially at night, for his beautiful celestial state would cause the halo effect and by stereotyping people would not generally associate him with the shady types. At least not while Leth reigns. "I apologize for my wariness, good man. But sure you must excuse my caution, especially so in this time and place." The Ethaefal faltered, though, when the full realization that he was currently in Stumble Alley hit him. And boy did it hit him hard. He visibly resisted the urge to let loose a series of colourful phrases that he heard (and strangely appreciate, for there is indeed art in having the creativity to find so many ways to express one's displeasure) a foul-mouthed tavern boy once uttered in Syliras. It was his first day here - or night, to be precise - and when fellow travellers learned of his destination while he was on the road, the first thing they did was to advise him from approaching or even nearing Stumble's Alley. Fat lot of hope that did. Still, he was already in it, and further down would hopefully be the library. From hearsay he found out about the local syndicates' disinterest in the building, for it provided no benefit for anyone to control it due to the population's high low literacy rate, and so would be an ideal place to slum, more so due to its array of shelves and twisting corridors and rooms that would hide him from unwanted attention. More importantly, part of the initial reason for his decision to travel to Sunberth was to locate a certain book that he believed to be somewhere in the Sunberth library, a conclusion he only ended up with after several weeks of investigation and running favours for various people. He brushed aside the man's possible insult, uninterested if he meant it or not, for he was already, and one could even say, immune to certain social-related contexts. "Well, whatever your plan, I'm going to continue on here, so do what you will." Eri bowed slightly to the man, performing the universal gesture for gratitude to acknowledge his effort in helping him fend off his assailants, and turned to the narrow alley that he had been eyeing before he got bum-rushed. What he did not notice, though, was the pair of eyes that was watching the whole scene from that very same alley, that ducked down and disappeared into the darkness in a soft patter of feet after hearing the last sentence.

OOC: Great! Now I know that open-thread lurkers do still exist in sunberth after all well, what is adventure if there isn't an unknown factor (in this case, you) to spice things up a little? xD

[Idue]

I agree. Things are better with other people

Idue was sure he could excuse this man's wariness about such followers in a place like Stumble Alley. Who wouldn't be nervous about being tailed in one of the most dangerous places in Sunberth. Granted that the entire city was dangerous, but this place seemed to hold all the beggers, thiefs, and drunks at once. And after getting attacked by four men without weapons, why couldn't this one man with weapons spare him? The Benshira could hardly understand why someone could live like this. Most of him would go crazy by fighting for his life everyday. But a small part enjoyed the excitement. what was exciting about herding sheep? As Idue stood there, he wondered why this man would just wander through this place at night. Was he lost? Or did he have somewhere to go? Where ever it was, Idue was sure this man might need some assistence getting there. Even if he didn't like it, that lone begger could bring back a dozen more, and this man would be screwed beyond belief. An extra pair of weapons didn't seem like it would be so bad. Plus this gave Idue a chance to learn a little more about the city. Other than this alley, Idue knew little about Sunberth. He had no clue where to go for food or for entertainment. Where was a nice place to relax? Were there actual sights worth seeing? Tagging along with this man might provide himself a chance to see more of Sunberth. And if it came down to a fight later, Idue knew he had back-up. What comes around goes around. The man bowed to Idue, thanking him for the help. He then said he would continue on, and that the choice was up to Idue on what he would do. The man turned his back to him, and Idue bit his lip. How would this man react if Idue said he wished to continue on with him? It wasn't that Idue cared about what this man thought about Idue, but if he showed him some of those moves used only moments before on those beggers. But the chance to have some more excitement was too hard to bear. Idue wouldn't admit it, the Yahal follower that he was, but he enjoyed the chaos so far. How one who strived for purity could say that was beyond most mortals. But the fighting he just went through turned his blood to fire, and he wished for more. He wished to help those in need, however he could. It was exciting to knock someone out cold. And traveling with this man this night gave him the chance to do just that. And Idue, one who took every opportunity given to him, wouldn't let this slip between his fingers. Stepping forward beside the man, he turned his head. Nodding, Idue patted his axes. "Since it was my choice, I'll stick with you for the time being. Wouldn't want you to die as soon as I turn my head." Was this how city folk boasted about their skill? Living with the tents, men knew their position. But here, words were traded as often as swords. And Idue didn't want to seem the odd man out. His turban was odd enough, but wait until his buckskin armor and antler helmet was pulled out. "You may call me Idue, stranger" Idue turned back to the alley the man was looking at. What would they find as they departed? What would find them?

[Eridanus]

He heard the Benshira, shrugging to signify his acknowledgement. He was new here, and it would be useful to have a second head to help make decisions. Especially navigational ones. He did not trust the man enough to tell him exactly the reason he was here, and he saw no need to. Instead he answered, “Eridanus, son of Leth. I am making my way to the library, for I heard that it is a much safer alternative than sleeping in the streets.” He continued down the alley, and Idue followed close behind, the narrow corridor barely lit by the moonshine and the faint glimmer of the city torches. The area was unnaturally quiet, and the usual environmental noise was missing as well. That would be a suspicious clue to residents, but as a new arrival Eridanus could not assume anything, and he did not pay attention to this. “What brings you to this lawless city, Idue?” The Ethaefal began, consciously trying to find out more about his new acquaintance, but subconsciously probably trying to find some way to break the almost deafening silence. As they crossed halfway into the alley, a silhouette appeared at the end of the corridor, blocking whatever ambient light that flowed in through that opening. Eridanus began to tense, but he continued forward until he could make out the features of this obstacle. It was a large man, with a scarred and grizzled face, shaved hair but sporting an unkempt goatee. In his sash was tucked a rusty-looking mace, and he stood confidently, arms akimbo. As the duo approached the man, he sized Eri up, whistling appreciatively at his unnaturally attractive face and his lean figure. “Well well well, what do we have here”, the man exclaimed, more to himself than as a question to the two. “Good sir, I don’t suppose you could grant us passage?” Eridanus spoke courteously, for he was unfamiliar with the local rules of the city, and this might possibly be a sort of tradition. “Unfortunately not, m’boy. What I can grant, is offer you... employment”, the man laughed jovially, wagging his finger at the Ethaefal. “Employment? No I do not wish for it, not now anyway. However, if you leave me your contact I will surely approach you when I have settled down”, the lunar child replied, wishing only to reach his destination and curl up in the warmth of shelter and rest. The man was unfazed, like he expected the response, and he replied anyway. “Wasn’t asking for your attention, kiddy. You’ll fetch a high price for me”, he ended with a sneer, stepping back and waving his hands forward like he was directing others towards the alley. “The usual, boys! Don’t damage the goods too much or I’ll deduct it from your salary!” He called out, and two humans stepped into the mouth of the alley, both wielding wicked-looking kukris, some sort of jagged dagger which reminded Eridanus of a smaller version of a scimitar. A really curved scimitar. Slavers! The thought crossed his mind immediately, for he pieced two and two together and came to this conclusion. He glanced behind for their exit, noting that the disgusted expression on Idue’s face meant that his new friend also probably came to the same conclusion. He nodded his chin in that direction, and the Benshira got his meaning, leading the way back to where they came from to escape the slavers. When they reached at the halfway point again, more silhouettes appeared to block the exit, but they could so far see another two kukri-wielding thugs, their opportunistic grins sickening the Ethaefal at being seen as a mere good to be traded and profited from. Eridanus was a person of variable morality, but one concept he could not stomach was the idea of slaves. He whole-heartedly believe in freedom and his own free-spirited soul violently objected at the thought of being enslaved for his whole being, unable to pursue his own dreams and goals. Having lived so long the thought was even more vile for him, for at least a human slave get to seek a new shell and a better stab at life in a couple of decades, if he was lucky. For the Ethaefal, as long as he did not suffer any mortal wounds and if Leth did not pay attention to him, he would be enslaved for eternity. The duo are trapped now, both ends of the alley blocked by the plump merchant’s men. This was not a very good situation, for the alley was narrow enough to only allow a little bit more than two men standing side by side. They were like lambs being led to the slaughter. However, the inner part of him that reviled against this idea viciously accepted the challenge, wanting to destroy these vile scums that dared to threaten the sanctity of his freedom... and that of his fellow man. His heart began to pound, but this time not the familiar adrenaline filled him, but something... stranger. Something older. Something that he felt was familiar yet not familiar. It was a kind of adrenaline that spoke of righteous brutality and cold-blooded murder, something that the Ethaefal in his normal state would not consider. Yet, somehow he felt like it was alright to discard these morals just for these people, and who knows – if he felt comfortable he might not even need keep his troublesome ethical code. It should be a warning sign to the usually reserved and logical Ethaefal, but as it happened, this event was some form of trigger strong enough to bring back memories and personalities better left suppressed. Memories of hypocritically vile and unholy actions committed decades to centuries ago. Without further ado, he gave a rough point towards the opening where they came from, leaving it to the Benshira to deal with the men there so that he could safely fight without being backstabbed. Next, he glanced back, the merchant no longer to be found and the two men advancing in a diagonal manner, allowing each other sufficient space to manoeuvre but yet not blocking each other. Eridanus may be moon-addled, or suffering from something worse, but that was all forgotten, and he dashed towards the men, words whispering in the air with a hint of danger, a tinge of violence, and maybe a trace of dark amusement.

[Eridanus]

The Ethaefal flew forward, a chuckle escaping his mouth for he somehow found this amusing, and he did not know why. His Vantha personality was somehow silent and it was like he was one, whole person, neither Ethaefal nor Vantha but something more. There was a sort of peace that he could derive from this, and this helped him to better focus on the pleasant task of delivering these thugs to Lhex. Wait... did you say pleasant? A small voice protested, but was overwhelmed by the noise around him and his burning emotions. The thugs seemed genuinely surprised, for their prey usually did not rushed at them like this, instead choosing to flee immediately, and when caught in their signature pincer attack, usually break down begging for their life and freedom as they were led away in chains, promising to give them everything they had if they were released. Ol’ Master Kuynriv – for that was the slave merchant’s name – knew better, and he usually took whatever they had and shipped them off to a slave auction anyway. This was why he liked working in Sunberth, for the slave auction was already in the city, and it was mighty convenient to do business, not to mention cost-cutting and thus profitable. A twisted snarl was on the Ethaefal’s face as he neared the first thug, the proximity and lighting finally allowing the thug to observe more details about their prey. There was some sort of savage tranquillity in the way the celestial being moved, yet horrifyingly other-worldly. The thug’s stomached curled, but he had his orders and old Kuynriv paid well. This was probably some sort of illusion and he would take this target down, just as he had many others before him in his career under Kuynriv’s employ. The thug raised his kukris, a twisted dagger meant more to intimidate and incapacitate than to kill, for slaves were worthless when they weren’t breathing, and he tried to minimize his damage for he did not want to see another salary cut after the last hunting season when he accidentally butchered one of the wenches in the group they were capturing when she slapped him after he tried to take certain liberties with her. Sampling the goods, as they say, and he was sure that his boss would understand. But no, the old bugger was only interested in profits, and not the welfare of his men, and so he only continued working for the slave-merchant because of the pay. Purely because of the pay. The slaver stepped forward, brandishing his dagger menacingly to warn his prey to slow down or risk being skewered, but that did not seem to hamper him, but instead light some sort of fire in his eyes. Strange he didn’t notice, but it seemed that his eyes were rapidly changing colour like a rainbow gone haywire. He carelessly jabbed the space in front of him, giving the Ethaefal a last warning, but he did not stop running, and leaped towards him instead. Eridanus saw the man waving his weapon as a sort of warning, but the thought of surrendering did not cross his mind at all. No, the dark personality that now enveloped his soul was already deciding how best he should dismember the human, and when he reached a suitable distance he leaped sideways, his legs kicking off against the wall to provide the additional momentum. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, like he really didn’t expect Eri to do that, and he stumbled back and Eri punched him, a punch stronger than most due to the added momentum from that bout of acrobatics. He followed a series of punches and crosses, constantly intercepting the man’s arm before he could even swing the kukris while jabbing at his throat and head. It was like making music, he had to orchestrate his attacks to some sort of invisible conductor, the blows making some sort of sick melody and he unconsciously began to hum, his eyes twinkling, and a subtle crooked smile forming. The second thug just began to register this, due to both Eri’s speed and the surprise of realizing that their prey actually had the audacity to attack them, and he angled himself, trying to get at the Ethaefal’s back while his comrade was being pummelled. Too bad, meat. A voice sang mockingly in his mind as Eridanus continued to strafe the first man, constantly shifting to keep his punching bag in between him and the second target. The man’s attempts to block and counter were beginning to become feeble, the initial surprise strike already taking out most of his stamina, and he began frothing blood, yet Eridanus continued to strike at his vital regions, finally swinging a heavy low-punch, running forward with it and slamming the man against the wall. At the same time, his other (non-master) hand drew his steel blade, all too familiar with the position of the hilt and he swung it to his right in an awkward position. Yet it was effective, for it parried the second thug’s thrust. Eri transferred the sword to his right hand so that he could fight better, and he thrust it so towards his enemy, the man leaping backwards just in time to avoid being skewered. Instantly, he again used his left hand to draw his remaining blade, and he slashed the man diagonally from his shoulder to his hip, ravaging a gap in his torso. Without missing a beat, the Ethaefal brought his steel blade inwards and swung it again in a motion parallel to the floor, opening the man’s stomach in another deep laceration. He followed by using his cold-iron blade to stab the man squarely in the face, driving it into the head as he heard the skull cracked, and in a single motion used his steel blade to decapitate the poor soul, as his point of his blade ran along concrete wall, hindered momentarily only by a soft fleshy neck, then continuing its path across. He flicked his blade downwards, the head flung onto the floor and he licked his lips, now gazing at the second thug. The surviving slaver was now swearing, and his horrified expression caused him to take a step back away from the brutality. He stammered, and retreated backwards, blubbering nonsense. To the man, the Ethaefal looked more like a monster than a human, blades dripping with gore with a cruel smile. What made Eri look more like an other-worldly monster, was his eyes that now changed colours and now flashed the visible spectrum in an even greater speed, and the fact that he was probably enjoying all of this. “Mmmmmaster Kuynriv! I-I-I... W-w-w-we need b-b-ba...”, he ended with a gurgling sound as the fleet-footed celestial child bounded forward, easily parrying and flinging away the slaver’s weapon that loosely held in trembling fingers due to fear, and ran both swords through his chest, running half the length into his body and savagely twisting the blades out, turning the man’s corpse into some sort of macabre unfinished doll, and the slaver collapsed. “Who’s next,” the Ethaefal snarled, finding no one out there, and he glanced back down the alley where a human wearing a turban was in the midst of combat. He looks familiar... But nevermind, for more prey awaits, and Eridanus bounded down the alley towards the clanging of blades and the merry, merry joy of brutal murder.

If you’re curious as to why he turned out like that, you can take a look at an origins thread http://www.mizahar.com/forums/topic14927.html here and you’ll find the fighting style and well, the general feel roughly similar. Though in the flashback it’s still an origins story and Eri has not fully degenerated yet, while in this one his fully degenerated self that was suppressed got unlocked due to the trigger of slavery, which was a traumatic experience to him sometimes in his past.

For Idue, he can either engage the slavers in the confines of the alley, or push them back into that same open area for more breathing space. The alley is narrow enough only for one man to move about comfortably. The first two slavers wield kukris, wear cloth tunics and are generally 30 (competent) in Weapon Skill: Kukris for purposes of this thread. Feel free to add or reduce any environmental modifiers as you see fit.

If Idue pushes the fight into the opening, he will find that the slave merchant is himself standing safely at the end of the opening, while there are several more slavers at each of the alleys leading from the cross-junction (ie the area where they fought beggars). Excluding the two Eri killed, the two that confronted Idue and the merchant with the mace, there are six more slavers at the different entry-way of the various alleys twisting from the cross-junction whose skill range from 10-30 in their weapons of choice to represent that not all are experienced slavers but some are fresh recruits picked up from the bottom of the impoverished populace.

[Idue]

Idue listened to this Eridanus explain his reasons for being in Stumble Alley at such a time. The Benshira wondered briefly why this man said he was a son of Leth. All Benshira were sons of Yahal, but they didn't names themselves that every time they introduced themselves. It just was taken as matter of fact. But was this man a follower of this Leth, or an actual son? Having met no Ethafael before, Idue ignored that statement. Really he focused more on the last part. Why would this man wish to spend the night in the library to sleep when there were taverns with beds all over the city? A good book was nice, but it didn't bring Idue to the point of wanting to spend the night. But he already said he was travel with Eridanus, so he followed him into the alley, caught up in whatever was going to happen. As they walked, Idue relaxed in the silence. It felt odd to him. Not because Eridanus wasn't speaking; he didn't know Idue, and maybe he didn't talk much. Really what bothered him was the silence of the city. In the desert, even when everyone slept, the noises of nature took hold, always filling the air. And in a city with thousands of more people than in Ekytol, Idue expected noise. Not the clang of a hammer on hot metal, or the merchants haggling endlessly, but at least some drunks. Maybe even the clash of steel where two men were fighting, or the grunts from a man with some whore. Anything but this silence. But it didn't last forever, as Eridanus spoke up. He asked why Idue was here in such a lawless city. Idue could agree with that. But how should Idue explain this to this man. He was looking for a woman he didn't know what she looked like besides a drawing of her that was in his home tents across the world. A woman who came here over twenty years ago, and was probably dead. It didn't like it mattered though. This man was as new around here as Idue was, so of course he had no clue about Idue's dilemma. So he was just going to keep it short. "I'm looking for my mother." Short and sweet. Halfway through the alley they were walking through, the light ahead just disappeared. Something was blocking the alley opening, and that something came in the form of a grizzled man with a rusted mace. His head was shaved, but his beard was unkept. Was he a begger with a weapon? At the moment, he was only a sash buddy to Idue. Yeah, childish but so true. Although the look on this man's face made Idue sure he didn't want him as a friend. But Eridanus began a conversation with this man as if he wasn't in their way and itching for a fight. But as the dialogue continued, Idue was getting a bad feeling inside of himself. This man didn't seem like the kind he wanted to be around. And when two thugs stepped past this man wielding curved daggers, Idue knew they were in trouble. These were slavers, and Eridanus was their target. And once they had him, then it would be Idue's turn to be made prisoner. What a night this was turning out to be. Idue's face must've revealed his knowledge of these men's profession when Eridanus looked back. Slight worry was on his face, but he only tilted his chin past Idue. Lead the way. Idue nodded, and turn backed, heading back in the direction they were coming from. To be on the safe side, he did draw one of his handaxes, holding it in his left hand. And safe it was, as two more thugs crowded into the opposite opening of the alley, wielding the same dagger like blades as the others. And they held them like they knew how to handle them. They were surrounded, like animals trapped in the corners. Too bad these men didn't know they had trapped rabid rats instead of harmless rats. Eridanus pointed at the two men he was facing, and the meaning rang clear. Kill them before they kill us. Idue heard footsteps behind him, but he saw only two men in his way. Idue ran forward. These two men had the same reaction as the two Eridanus was facing behind them. Why were their prey fighting back? Why didn't they give up like so many before? Idue swung with his left hand at the right arm of the man on the right. He parried with his kukri, and his partner who wore his blond hair long attacked, hoping to slice into Idue's side. But the slavers had trouble moving in the small alley, while Idue had slightly more room to move. Idue twisted his body, and the dagger flew past him. Catching the man's arm, Idue quickly reversed his grip, and slammed the head of his axe on the blond man's wrist. But Idue took a kick to the stomach by the slaver with the eye patch, and the Benshira stumbled back. Eye patch walked forward, a smirk on his face. He swung down, hoping to cut Idue across the back. But Idue squirmed away, running into the wall on purpose to dodge the strike. Without looking back, Idue delivered a mule kick into the groin of his attacker, and turned around to see the man's smile turn upside down. Changing hands so his axe rested in his right side, Idue uppercutted the slaver with the blade, slicing it across his good eye. The man was blind, but not out. A wild swing with the kukri caught him on the left bicep, but that hindered Idue little. One hack into the neck, and Idue dispatched the slaver, leaving only the blond man. Idue turned, and saw shock on the living slaver's face. Idue's face was splattered with blood from the now dead slaver, and the Benshira was smiling. Similar to Eridanus' bloodthirst, Idue was enjoying this. Not because of some past experience, but because this was something new. He was purifying the city of Sunberth of killing these slavers. And he didn't even care that his heart was turning black with each swing from his axes. Striding forward with a purpose, Idue drew his second ax, and began to swing one arm at a time at the slaver. Right arm, left arm. Right, left. It became a pattern, walking the slaver slowly backwards. Idue's arms were tiring, but he kept it up. He needed to catch this man off guard. And he did, as the slaver slowly added a little more force with each block. Idue swung with his left hand, and suddenly halted mid-swing. The slaver swung his blade up by instinct developed constantly blocking the Benshira, and opening himself up. Swinging his other axe, Idue caught the blond man under the arm. He looked stunned, and the kukris dropped to the ground. With no mercy, Idue swung with his left axe, embedding it in the man's skull, and splattering more blood and brain on both him and the alley ground. But the body didn't just fall off of his blade. Instead it stumbled back in a death stupor through the opening of the cross-junction they were just in. But Idue finally got his axe out of the split skull in time to survey his current situation. Six slavers stood with weapons drawn in the three other openings that formed the junction, along with the head merchant. Six more men to fight, and more if those two overcame Eridanus. Idue didn't like curse words, but that was the only thing that came to mind. Petch, Petch, Petch.