Closed Nuit Hunting IV - Use A Garret To Abuse A Garret [Garret]

[Zandelia]

Spring 30th, 514 AV - Pig's Foot Tavern


As she trudged the streets her mind raced with idea, possibilities and general schemes within which she wove her mental web. She had lost her quarry already, many times before he had slipped through her net and this would not be a further occurrence. The game of cat and mouse was over, he had lost and she knew where he was hiding, the shadows not deep enough for her gaze to be blinded by them. The problem was not the fact that she could not find him, no the thorn beneath the rose lay in the fact that it was the Wolf’s Den. She was far from incapable of defending herself but that patch of land was a no-man’s land, daily littered with the dead that were then carried to the barges for a few coppers for services rendered. No, she would need someone to help her, someone of little consequence.

I can’t ask Bitzer to help me, not with this. This isn’t business…it’s personal. Too personal. She can help with the true ending of the dance. This…this is but a beginning she told herself as her feet took her towards the Pig’s Foot. Clasped hands at the small of her back separated and the door jerked open with a judder. She closed it without much fuss.

The interior was the same as ever, furniture that changed almost daily and the rough undesirables whom made their living with the dishonest jobs that other dishonest people didn’t do to pretend to themselves that they were honest. The situation amused her and she approached the bar counter, the ever present Merv wiping a wooden cup behind its safety – he was practically part of the furniture himself.

“Still haven’t had the door fixed then Merv?” she asked him by way of opening.

“Nah, not werth it see? Be broken ‘gain afore long. Whatcha want? Drink?” he asked her, a sly and suspicious look upon his face now.

“Was there any other option?” she looked back at him impassively, it was a game they had played many times. Merv knew much about the goings on in Sunberth – drunks were far more talkative than torture victims.

“Hmm! With you coulda been anyt’ing. Ale?”

“For starters” she allowed a grin to spread across her features slowly, eye still cold and flinty.

“I knew it,” she muttered, cursing under his breath, “just don’t break any o’ the damned timber! Had nuff o’that already. Won’t stand for more ye hear!?” he growled at her, finger almost jabbing into her chest but not quite daring to do so.

“Do not threaten me Merv, I have no interest in your…timber,” she brushed his finger aside flippantly, scowling at him now in turn, “unless you give me a reason to be interested. If you follow me-“

“Dontcha even dare! You wouldn’t d-“

“Dare? I dare much if it gets me what I want. You know that Merv. But timber, no. Timber can be replaced. People can’t” her eye flickered to the barmaids momentarily. She could see the war within him, he didn’t ate her but had to protect his business – she understood this well.

“Fine! Whatcha want?”

“Muscle. Wolves Den hides precious treasure. Have anyone you don’t care about?” she asked him leaning forwards now conspiratorially, as if she were doing him a favour rather than the other way around, hands spread and fingers splayed upon the rough wood beneath.

“Well…I gots a few I don’t like. Pay well but…breaks the timber all the bleedin time. Whatcha needs ‘em for? Sacrifice? Distraction?” his eyes were darting now, tone lowered and almost filled with hope that she would get one of his troublemakers killed.

“Something like that. They could die in my place if it goes wrong. Needs to be a decent fighter though, can’t do much with a limp armed grousling” she took the ale the was placed before her as Merv thought, took the second and coin exchanged between sweaty palms. Merv nodded to the corner and turned, business concluded. She breathed, the first task accomplished, and made her way towards the table -the man was drinking alone. The types in the tavern t this time of day often did.

“Mind if I join you? Here, have a drink man. One can never have enough ale I find” she spoke jovially and lightly, sitting opposite him after reversing the chair and straddling it – an old habit.

“What’s your name friend? Working nights perhaps, must be a reason you’re in here instead of out in the light?” she asked by way of conversation. Not overly taxing questions and designed to get the measure of his personality by what he answered.


ooc5gm given to Merv for information and ale - 2 mugs and a following jug for refills if required. She will signal for this if Garret proves overly difficult to convince to join her.

[Garret Sawyer]

Garret reclined back on the splintered, wooden chair as he pulled out a pouch of weed and a pipe from his pockets and began packed the dried weed into the chamber of the pipe. The sun was just about to touch the horizon casting a bloody red across the clear evening sky. He then lit a single splint from one of the candle that melted slowly on his empty table, watching it flicker and glow as it fought for life before he stuck it into the chamber of the pipe. The flame extinguished itself immediately as it attempted to set the weed alight only to make it smoulder and smoke. He brought the tip of the pipe to his mouth, sucking on it gently as the smoke seemed to flow into his mouth and there he held it, relishing in the dusty, sour taste of the smoke before looking backwards to survey the scene.

The tavern was nearly empty, all that was left was men like him. It common practice to most of the thugs, simply sit back and relax while work finds its way toward you. All the while let Merv send to sour looks, it's a tavern and fights break out amongst these men, nothing could be done about it but simply point fingers and lay the blame on ol' Garret. He watched with disinterest as the blonde entered the tavern, far more interested by how high the barmaid was filling his tankard. "Right to the top love, and hold back on those bloody smiles, if you ain't a whore I ain't interested" He said as the barmaid quickly filled up his tankard before scampering off to find a more friendly customer with a bigger purse.

Garret paused as the newcomer approached his table, placing the tip of his pipe in the corner of his mouth as he watched the woman simply pull out a chair for her arse without even bloody asking first. "Cut the crap" Garret spat as he blew a plume of thick, acrid smoke through his yellow teeth into her face before washing the bitter after taste down with the cheap, tangy ale "What do you want done, and how much are you willing to pay?" He asked, Garret wasn't in the mood, nor would he ever be, of mincing his words during conversation.

He couldn't blame her for approaching him, under his cheap , thin coat he was already clad in his leather armour, he scratched wooden shield leant up against his table and as always his morning star hung from his belt. Reaching down, he slipped it out from his belt before placing on the table, the heavy ball covered in an array of spike that shone violently in the candlelight did all the talking as far as Garret was concerned "I know what I can do, so name what you want done and how much you are willing to pay" Garret summarised simply for her "The name is Garret by the way, Garret Sawyer."

[Zandelia]

So, what we have here is a grizzled warrior-type with a grumpy streak and a selection of…distinctive…bad habits. Motivated by coin and like as not to believe that they have no feelings beyond that associated with gold. Useful idiots some might call them she told herself as she didn’t even bother to wave the smoke away. She merely blew it back into his own face with pursed lips.

“Cut the crap?” she asked him in mirror image, matching his tone as best she could and pulling her own wooden pipe from the pouch beneath her robes and blowing into it to make sure it wasn’t blocked, “very well. I find myself needing an…escort. For starters that is” she thumbed a pinch of Blue Vision into the bowl and twisted it over the candle until it was sufficiently lit.

“As to how much and what the job is – that depends on what you are willing to do. Professionals sometimes set themselves their own rules, you look the type to be a regular mercenary. Guard perhaps. Have any rules you don’t like breaking?”

She sucked in the smoke through the mouthpiece, small and teasing draws to further ignite the tobacco and smoke curling out of her lips more than into her mouth to begin with. Once the tobacco was truly burning she drew it in deeply, relishing the taste upon her tongue before it was fully breathed in – and out into Garret’s face in her own response, a small smile around her pipe stem forming as she placed it back between her teeth.

“Pay is the same, goes with what you will do. I want someone to accompany me to the Wolf’s Den – you should know of it if you’ve truly spilt blood in the city. There sits a shack, almost falling down and within an old friend – a dead old friend,” she spoke between sips of ale and draws of smoke, her eye pinning him firmly as she assessed, “you would mostly be a guard, someone to make sure I don’t get knifed in the back in a fight, as a fight there surely will be. Probably on the way there, whislt there and ont he way out. That's how it usually goes”

“For that basic rate of 15 gold I’m afraid, can’t say fairer than that really. But if one were willing to capture, interrogate and then…perform a small delivery service for me…well that could up the price to 25 gold. Maybe 30 if you perform well enough to amuse me. Not bad for a few Bell’s work I’m sure you agree?” the question slipped out at the end, testing him to see if he were the type to talk first and think second – making agreements before fully fixing terms was foolish, she didn’t need foolish she needed cautious.

And he has a Morningstar, a brutal and blunt weapon. Is he but such a weapon? Does intelligence lurk beneath the mask of the thug? Or is he really just that simple? she wondered as she pointed the tip of her pipe to his weapon.

“Often place your weapon upon the table when a defenceless woman comes along, do you? One could mistake that you were overcompensating for something. It is a good weapon after all” she chuckled then, seeing if she could throw him off and get him to agree to terms out of quick, incensed reaction.

She was far from defenceless of course, a good study would easily discover that. Night leather armour, tonfa, throwing daggers amongst the other weaponry. And the dark Shadowsilk cloak, that had been a nice touch. She was a warrior of her own…after a fashion. It was just that her fields of battler were not always so simple as flat ground and a lot of room to swing in.

“You may call me Web Garret Swayer, just Web. So what say you? How hard is your stomache? And what, exactly, can you do?” she drew in her smoke once more, sweet and fragrant, it was deceptively bad for her she knew.

[Garret Sawyer]

What do we have here? He wondered slightly to himself as he sat back in silence, focusing on every would she said as he puffed slightly on his pipe, his nose wrinkling with distaste as his nostrils were flooded with the sickly sweet scent of her own tobacco, mixing with his own to create a vile mixture that hung over the table, fighting for dominance as their owners continued to blow more into the already stuffy tavern but he didn’t comment. He could not figure her out, but then again it wasn't surpsing; he wasn't a people person after all, and after a while they all just seem the same to Garret.

The job seemed simple enough to Garret to start with, he had done plenty of escort jobs before, it tended to be cargo of some sort normally. Often a person was the said cargo, and most times unwilling to be there but a escorting a rather less pathetic human didn’t seem to hard either. “Rules? I have a few but I break most of ‘em for a price” He answered truthfully, everything was negotiable and everything had a price as far as Garret was concerned “I ain’t a raper, and I ain’t big on killing children but apart from that there isn’t much I won’t do” He summarized That’s who she is looking for after all, why else would she be in a place like this? He figured.

But there were complications, there always was. She wanted him to head into the Wolves’ den, literally. True he had gone there before, he wouldn’t even pretend to claim he knew it like the back of his hand but he knew it as well as any thug who couldn’t be considered insane would know it. Still, Garret like staying alive more than he liked gold but the few was very good, and with a little extra effort in seemed he could nearly double his wages, and by the gods he need some coin in his purse, otherwise this season was looking to be a bleak one.

Garret downed the last of his ale, savouring the cheap taste he had grown so accustomed to over the years before placing his tankard back down on the table and looking back at the into her eyes, or at least her good one anyway it seemed. “I assure you…” He said confidently “I have no need to compensate for anything” He declared “I’ll do it, I can skill for you and I can make sure you come out of their alive. And my stomach is a strong as cold iron, you throw enough gold at it and you'll find I can handle a lot.”

He leant across the table, holding out a dirty, grimy, coarse hand outstretch for her to take “Shake on it and the deal is struck, shake on it and I won’t double cross you” He offered, he prided himself with never breaking a contract, aye there were loopholes but once the hands have shaken, the contract was binding and he wouldn’t betray his employer “I won’t ask questions if you don’t want me do, but why are you going so much trouble to recover a dead body? There’s nothing you can do to help your friend now.”

Once she had shaken his hand it was up to her what they did next, though he had a feeling she would want to waste now time and would lead the way immediately.

[Zandelia]

So, he doesn’t ask for a higher fee. I would say that he is a fool but his hardened features tell me otherwise. He’s survived this city long enough to annoy the shyke out of Merv…so he needs the gold perhaps? Good, it makes him more useful. The poor often go the extra yards for their pay she thought to herself, teasing out an assimilating the assumption of Garret, testing them for faulty logic as she drew at her pipe in consideration.

He had a creed too, of sorts. Not much of one but enough to know that he held a portion of honour within his grizzled heart. She drank deeply from her own mug as she tried to understand the man better – it always paid to know whom you were working with as well as possible. He was strong of course, well geared for his profession even by Sunberth mercenary standards. One of the few things the city seemed to pride itself on was its collection of skilled sell swords. Garret was obviously one of them and yet had no money, that didn’t make sense and she found herself reconsidering her initial assessment. She inclined towards thinking it hat he was just that indifferent that he would do almost anything for coin – no matter how low the price might be.

But that can’t be everything either. Still, it’s a start she slipped that into her assessment neatly, another piece of the jigsaw.

“Good, I’d not hire you if you were comfortable with such things at any rate. Happily you won’t have to indulge in either of those things,” she responded with simply, staring at his now proffered hand over the table, “we have a bargain then” she assented as she spat in her right palm and shook his hand with a serious look now sweeping across her countenance.

She tapped her pipe against the edge of the rough table, the hollow sound strangely satisfying to her, and stamped on what embers remained before blowing into it again and slipping it back into its pouch. Swiftly she finished her own drink, signalled to Merv to leave the rest she had purchased for now and stood up from the table. She took a moment to look down at the still seated Garret, a flashing sheen to her singular orb despite the dinginess of the tavern.

“I do not doubt you have your contract honour, but I like to cover all eventualities. You may not think of betraying me, but know that if that changes I will make life very difficult for you. Do your job, however, and do it well and I may have more work for you…in time,” she nodded at him, all that needed to be stated hanging in the air between them like the slowly dissipating smoke, “come with me” she turned on her heel and made for the door with the knowledge that he would follow.

She waited for him outside, pulling her cloak about her against the chill of the breeze. Spring may have begun but the weather was still as icy as winter. It would be a score of days or more perhaps before warmth truly returned to the dank, refuse ridden streets of Sunberth. The tell tale juddering of the door signalled his exit from the sombre watering hole of the Pig’s Foot. She turned to him and tilted her head in the direction of the Wolf’s Den – business called for all eventually. Time enough for merriment later, much later.

“You may ask your questions Garret, but the answers may not be forthcoming,” she spoke softly as they trudged, “as to the first one…well. The body is dead but still it moves. His second death is long overdue and you will make it unpleasant for him. Why you?” she anticipated the question whether he would have asked it or not.

“Call it professional courtesy” she frowned at that. The truth was more complicated of course, it always was. Still Garret didn’t know that.

Nether does Garret. Garret against Garret. Akajia sends me a sign perhaps. We will see she mused as her eye searched the shadows, they flickered and moved. Perhaps not in actuality but she could feel them. It was a strange sensation, knowing that shadows passed and returned but always hid the same secrets.

It was just a matter of finding them and analysing them until they made sense and slotted together.

“What do you know of the Wolf’s Den Garret? Have you been there before?” she sked by way of idle conversation as their path took the ever north and towards the ancient mines – the beacons of hate for the city.

She had invested a lot of time into tracking garret down and she would make sure her temporary employee knew enough not to botch the whole operation with any ignorance. She had precious little time to dispel it if he possessed it as it was.

They were closing in, tightening the net.

[Garret Sawyer]

Garret pushed his chair back and stood up, taking only a moment to sling his shield around his back as he followed the women across the bar, his pipe still in hand as he did so, leaving a trail of acrid smoke lining the tavern. He had not intention of betraying, though found her remark slightly amusing, how could his life get much more difficult for him? But she had a strong grip, Garret honestly believed that the handshake he had shared with all of his employers over the years would tell him more about them than they would ever want to say. She had a plan that was clear, and Garret was just another little detail that made it all happen but he was happy with that situation, he just hoped one day he wouldn't draw the attention of someone far more powerful than himself.

He grimaced as he stepped out into the frosty, fresh air, sucking on his still lit pipe for warmth as he walked quickly after her, taking long strides through the city as they began their journey to the darker side of the already dark city. "Dead but still moves?" He asked curiously, he didn't like the sound of that one bit, he hated magic with a vengeance but the deal had been struck and he wouldn't go back on it. "I couldn't care less why, you're paying me and that's all that matters right now" He assured, he couldn't care less about professional courtesy "Whatever that even means." He thought silently to himself.
The very walls seemed to darken as they wandered through the city streets, it retrospect it seemed like a bad idea to enter this place an night but that had advantages of itself, there would be fewer eyes watching them as they walked through the city and with her dark dyed cloak, and his dirt covered coat they had begun to blend in slightly with the night. "I know about it from experience" He said truthfully "Fought a couple of fights in the pits around here, done a few jobs here though those ones are few and far between, the gangs control all this lot I reckon."

A few beggars peered at them as they stepped through the city together, their eyes eager for knowledge and the gold it would bring them. As the stepped further in, closer towards the Wolf's den the beggars were slowly being replace by thugs, muggers and rapists. "I'm hoping you ain't been stupid enough to come unarmed" He said, slipping a hand into the side of his coat "Show you 'em you're armed but don't draw your weapon, one shows you can fight and the other shows you're looking for one, and that is a somethin' we don't want to show" He warned her truthfully, his own hand resting on the weapon he had tucked in his belt as soon as they had left the tavern. "Have you been in the Wolf's den before?" He asked "'Cos I am hoping you know the way, this is a place you don't want to get lost."

[Zandelia]

She looked into the growing mists as they walked, darkness gathering to cover what she had planned for them at just the right moment. It almost felt like providence but she knew how much work she had put in over the last few days, she had barely slept after all in the hunt. No, this was a culmination and she would use Garret for the dirtiest job of all – she had little stomach for such things and her interests would likely flow towards another path immediately after the job was completed. A message would be sent but what message she had not yet decided – only that she wouldn’t be the one to carry it.

But I will be the one to finish Markus, this I vow she told herself as the familiar shift from beggars and general moochers gave way to the more hardened variety of desperate thug.

They were not quite into the Wolf’s Den yet, not the true bitter heart of it where the real bastards lurked in the darkness awaiting their new prey. No, there were small time and ragged types whom had obviously not yet earned enough scars to be considered respectable – if such a concept truly existed within the Den. The Shadowsilk of her cloak rippled as she pulled it around her, gaze flicking from side to side and assessing whether they would meet with contestation this early in their joint venture.

“The Syndicates can’t seem to control themselves these days,” she noted absently as she kept her attention upon the gathering bodies they were leaving in their wake, “the Den has always had a bred in the woodwork lawlessness to it, even by Sunberth standards. Mostly it controls itself and sleeps when its need for blood and coin is sated. Gambling, pit fighting, smuggling and so on. If you survived the Pit then I chose you well, I remember my own bouts there . Gruelling” she continued as memory slipped into her mind and played back that first proving for Tua, to make sure she had been strong enough to urn missives. It seemed so long ago now though only a couple of years had passed.

The thugs were becoming more seasoned now as she turned to the right to follow aside alley that began their skirting of the core of the Wolf’s Den and slipped out into the coiling tendrils of damp air. She ignored his comment about weaponry, she had brought him along to show tha toff to the world. Her own weapons were tucked away in various places about her body and she would use them if necessary but would rather slip through to their destination without hindrance.

“Oi! I know you. Lady wassername! Lads, it’s the bludget who took all our spangle. Figure we should get sometin in return eh?” come the voice, cutting through the growing shadows and putting an end to her hopes for no incidents.

She turned and saw them, five men and reasonably well armed tough little armour to speak of – in the Den quicker and quieter was better. Why this one had stopped to make a show she couldn’t fathom but she was certain he wouldn’t get another opportunity to learn. She flicked her cloak over her shoulders for ease of movement and to show off what she held as a response to them if things turned sour.

“I stole nothing of yours, you lost it at Johnny’s fair and square. Why don’t we just go our way? No need for unpleasantness” she tried for a smooth and conciliatory tone.

“Hah! Rigged dice I reckon’ as we’s not lsot so bad in our lvies. Always seemed to get the lucky throws huh? See how lucky ye are when we rip those clothes off and bend yer over a barrel. Oh we’ll let ya go butyer arse’ll be sorer than a beggar’s feet by t’end a it. Get ‘er lads and whatever ye like ter her loverboy ‘ere” the self-appointed leader gloated which gave her time to look towards Garret and now

“Hope you really can fight my dear” was all she said as she slipped her tonfa from her right hip and readied one in each hand.

She stepped out to the side of Garret, giving them both more room to work with in the already cramped street.

[Garret Sawyer]

"That's why you're paying me ain't it?" He noted softly, he had half a mind to ask her what in Hai she had got up to with these thugs who did such an excellent job in making Garret look like he was a Zeltivan scholar but before he had even taken the breath to ask her he was forced to retreat. He had little to time to avoid the fat, dirty dirk that had dived towards him, and no time to swing his shield off his back and strap it on, it appeared that it was just him and his weapon.

The odds were stacked against Garret, in the tight, cramped alleyway there was barely enough room to swing a cat, let alone a morning star but that did mean this group couldn't attack them all at once, they came in a handy two by two system, each one lining up to take a stab at Garret and this "Web" but fortunately for him, whatever she had done to them meant the biggest of the thugs, the one who spoke through missing teeth and cracked lips had decided to stand back, clearly waiting for two of them to deal with Garret and the other two to tire her down.

"I'm gonna slit your fucking throat open" The scrawny, little bastard threatened as he pulled back to take another aim for Garret's throat as he clenched the vicious looking dirk like it was his whole life, which it was. Garret said nothing as he slipped his own weapon out of his belt, his eyes locked on to the dirk as it sliced through the air towards him. Garret felt the blow strike his chest, knocking him back as the dirk managed to slice through most of the leather protecting his heart, but failing as the tip pressed against his flesh, threatening to tear through before being yanked back. Garret wasted no time, stepping backwards quickly as the mugger dived forward, eager for blood but Garret ducked left as his own arm began to strain as he thrust his weapon forward. It was a common error to think a morning star was just for swinging, in fact upon it was a spike that was larger than the rest and from the look of surprise on his opponents face as Garret tugged said spike out of his throat he didn't know that as well, as Garret left him to fall to the floor as he gargled on his own thick, dark blood that began to fill up his throat before seeping downwards into his lungs, causing him to literally drown in his own blood.

But just as sweet taste of victory seemed so close, it was dashed as the wide tip of a spear came hurtling through the air towards him, aiming directly between his eyes. Garret ducked, but not quick enough as he felt a blistering burn sear across the top his skull. Garret cried out in pain as he felt a familiar warmth as blood began to seep down either side of head but Garret had no time to waste as the bloody spear was tugged backwards, ready to make the killing blow but he refused to let that happen. Garret leaped forward, pouncing rather ungracefully through alleyway as he tackled the bastard to the cold, hard floor.

The thug was sent sprawling back, cursing violently as his head smacked against the hard ground. With him down and more importantly unarmed as the spear slipped from his grip, Garret felt a familiar sense of control as the spear clattered away from the thugs reach. Garret didn't get a good look of his mugger's face as it was quickly disfigured, with a vile crunching as blood splattered against the alleyway wall, spraying upwards in an undecipherable pattern Garret grunted with welcomed satisfaction as he swung again, his jaw clenching and his vein bulging as the thick, as the spiked metal ball devastated the thugs face, the vicious spikes tearing any recognizable features apart that his crying widow might have identified him from. The jaw was completely torn away with another swing, sending most of the teeth ricocheting of with it. His nose was nonexistent, where it should have been only a dark, black hole lay,filled to the brim to the brim, and then some, with thick dark blood that continued to seep over the side.

Below him it appeared his comrade groaned, or more truthfully gargled as the already weak life began to fade from his eyes. Pulling himself to his feet, his clothes sticky and warm from the hot blood he placed a dirty boot on his the thug's neck, watching his eyes bugle in pain as Garret slammed it down suddenly, sending another torrent of blood to decorate the alleyway. Suddenly his memory clicked as he looked around the alleyway for Web, his mind in the pleasure and rush of combat completely forgetting about her.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia stepped forwards lightly, flowing from one foot to the other and dancing to the side as two of the thugs made their way towards Garret – she was sure he would do well enough against a pair of thugs, he was a self-proclaimed mercenary after all. She had little opportunity to see to his safety at any rate, her own being threatened by the two others – the cowardly leader hanging back to watch the entertainment with a broad grin. The small glimpse she did snatch of Garret showed to her that he seemed to favour the initiative with the enemy – she preferred to act first herself.

She watched as the two thugs approached her, caution thrown to the wind in the assumption that she was weak as a woman. She smiled at that, it never failed to amuse her.

The one on the left, sword and shield readied, darted in with a thrust towards her legs clearly designed to disable so as to make their evening more pleasurable with her capture. She batted it away with her left tonfa, spinning it around so that it allowed the follow through to unbalance him and carry him forwards. She stepped to her left and spun on the ball of her foot to bring her right tonfa around to glance the back of his helmet – knocking it off his head and further pushing him away and off balance. She placed her feet upon the floor quickly, enough stability to lash out at his arse with a kick to push him forwards and into the dirt, sprawling and cursing alternately.

“Bitch!” the second hissed at her – she was wielding a spear and thrust it towards Zandelia’s chest.

It’s point missed its target as Zandelia twisted her body to the side, scratching at her dark leather armour instead of impaling her with a hasty strike. She brought the length of her right tonfa up, slipping it so that it was perpendicular to the shaft just behind the spear tip and pushed it away from her before stepping towards her enemy. The girl was quick to recover and pulled the spear back and swung it around with enough force that it rattled Zandelia’s bones as she blocked it, accepted the weight of impact and then pushed it away to her left this time, right tonfa coming around to jar it and push it further with a dull thud.

She needed to finish one of them quickly so as to even the odds.

The spear came outwards again and she blocked, parried and circled so that she was farther away from the now recovering second opponent. She changed tactics and placed herself between the two of them to try and illicit her purpose. The spear thrust, sensing victory, and she ducked and threw herself to the side at the last moment. The scream told her that the job was done – the spear had hit its mark in the back of its ally. She snarled as she pushed herself upwards and rushed at the woman now.

Tonfa whirled as they came down in a series of vertical strikes, pushing her enemy onto the back foot as she used the haft to block them one after the other. She let the woman get sued to the rhythm, to lull into a sense of repetition, before she changed tactics. She reverse her right tonfa so that it was fully extended beyond her wrist – a good foot – and jabbed towards the chest. The woman had to step backwards with alarm and Zandelia took the opportunity to press her advantage. She flipped her left tonfa so that it was a hook now, slipping it underneath the shaft of the spear and using the handle to pull as hard as she could – it caught and her leg flashed outwards to push the woman back.

The spear slapped into the ground, enemy disarmed. She stepped over it and smacked her weapons into the sides of the other woman’s skull until she slumped to the floor – she was not sure if they were dead or not.

“Garret, you okay?” she looked at her compatriot and saw the streaming blood from his head.

She frowned as she heard the drawing of twin blades, head whirling around to see the leader now drawing his swords and heard him bellow pure murder.

“Time to lick your wounds later, help me kill this bastard!” she snapped.

A second was all she received as respite, sharp steel clashing with cold iron as her blocked the initial salvo, right tonfa interrupting a diagonal strike towards her shoulder and left tonfa batting away a horizontal push for her left thigh. She was then exposed and the kick to her midsection staggered her and made breathing difficult. She ducked another vicious slash and crossed her tonfa to stop another aimed at her stomach, pushing the blade down and into the ground. She used the opportunity to spit in the thug’s face and hopefully blind his vision somewhat.

She stepped around him and to the side as he blinked rapidly, clipping his ankle hard with one flick of the tonfa and ramming the butt of the other into his ribs. She jumped backwards – the thug was between Garret and Zandelia then and more easily handled.


oocHave him die how you like, though I'm not averse to you stealing the combat xp for it

[Garret Sawyer]

Garret rammed a heavy boot into the base of the thug's spine, sending him sprawling forward, nearly losing his balance before catching it at the last second as he spun around with blinding speed, his right blade slicing through the air towards Garret. He stepped back as fast as he could, the razor sharp blade missing him by millimetres but he was given no respite as the second blade followed the first, tearing through the air in a blade rage as Garret hefted his own weapon in response, the clang of metal rang through the alleyway as the force of the blow knocked them both backwards.

Wasting no time Garret pushed forward again, swinging his morning star quickly from side to side, forcing the thug to keep stepping backwards, his feet shuffling against damp, gravelly stones beneath them. The thug suddenly released an explosive attack, using one sword to knock Garret's morning star away, throwing the mercenary off balance as the second sword was thrust forward into his torso. Fate was on his side as the ground slipped slightly beneath, sending the blade's edge slicing against his left side as adrenaline did it's best to mask the searing pain that smouldered against him.

In retaliation Garret smashed his head into the thugs, sending them both stumbling back in pain but Garret who had anticipated the blow... to some extent, had the upper hand here as he swung his morning star once more, squinting to get a decent aim through his blurring vision as the spiked mace tore the air asunder and with a gratifying crack, it had smashed it's way through the bastards elbow, revealing the sickening sick of pure, white bone as it was corrupting by blood. The thugs screamed in pain, his once defiant eyes filling with tears as he could do nothing but stare down at his disfigured arm. Garret winced as the shrill cry of pain graced his ears, irritating him to no end as he yanked his morning star back before swinging against, this time wasting no time as the spikes sunk into the man's heart, causes his eyes to bulge and his pupils constrict as blood began to seep from the wound, his heart going into overdrive as his body began to fail him.

Garret tugged on the hilt of his weapon, letting jolt outwards as a spray of blood followed with it, covering his face in the warm, thick liquid as the metallic taste oozed into his dry mouth. Garret let out a sigh of relief as the body slumped down to ground, letting him relax as he took a long deep breath and leant against the rough, alleyway walls. He was a mess that was sure, his face and clothes were soaked in a mixture of his blood and his now dead attackers, the wound on top of his head continued to bleed but it wasn't serious, it was up to the gods whether it would scar or not but it looked like it would heal up nicely. As his hand clutched his left side, it revealed as far more pressing injury. The bastard's blade has left a long, fairly deep cut running along the side of his torso and judging by the blood still leaking through it was going to cause him a lot of pain as the thrill of combat wore off.

"Okay..." Garret said, breaking the silence through gritted teeth "I was hopin' that we were gonna slip through this shithole without causin' a stir, but we don't always get what we want." He pulled his shield off from his back and began to strap the leather tightly around his forearm "I'm gonna be fine for now, so let's just keep movin' so we can get this bleedin' thing done alright?" He declared as he stood up straight, hoping to walk off the pain before it rendered him useless to the woman.