Border Guard [William/Kikuri]

[William]

William had only been in the business for about half a year, but already there had been plenty of wise advice he'd managed to receive from some co-workers and competitors. One particular line of advice was “Araphen is a rookie goldmine”. The fief was strong, and far more stable than most others in Lycia, but it was positioned in a manner that let it receive refugee traffic. Not just good hearted hopefuls who wanted to start their life anew away from the bandits in the south, or the monsters in the west...

“Hrah!” A burly woman roared as the dull blade of her axe crashed against William's sword. She was hasty but strong, and William winced as he felt the pressure from her blow build down his arm.

But those very bandits themselves.

Some guilds had taken to tracking bandit tribes and ruffian groups across the many fiefdoms, and were willing to hire outside help if their prey made a break for a healthier fief. Some merchants had a vested interest in keeping their home fiefs clean, and those same guilds had a vested interest in not losing their marks to competitors. Rather than leave their battleground fiefs, were work was bountiful, they simply hired some rooks across the border to intercept their fleeing quarry.

“Hah!” William side-stepped the woman's desperate swing and buried his blade deep within her belly.

That was precisely what had brought him to that dirt road along the Araphen/Tuscana border.

As his steel was coated red, he remained hilted within the dying woman's body. William ignored her last gasps for air and quickly studied her comrades. Four men, each one more haggard than the last. One looked frightened by the display, the other two simply irritated, and the fourth...a glint of lament behind a gaze of fire. Two more axes, and two swords. So they were all melee – that made things a bit easier. Still there was one more than his contractor had stated.

“Could be worse.” William thought to himself as he pulled his sword free from the corpse. He slid a foot back behind the other and allowed the woman to fall stiff to the ground. “Could have run into the baels that drove them out, instead.”

The men stood next to each other, and each seemed to be uncertain about what they did next. The woman had charged him the moment he'd stepped into their path. Not exactly the kind of greeting William had expected, and certainly not the context he'd like for a woman to be rushing towards him. He couldn't make the move, not while they were so close, so William decided to throw out a taunt.

From the expression on the fourth brigand it wasn't a tough guess to make that he'd just lost his lover. It was cruel, and William took no pleasure in it...but he had to fake it. His nerves had begun to build up, he could feel his chest grow tight. He needed to break their formation but also to calm himself, so he could focus squarely on the battle. So William forced a grin on his face, allowed his stance to slacken, and spoke.

“Well, I guess that weeds out the weakest, then. The rest of you plan on putting up an actual fight?” He made sure his gaze lingered on his mark, to draw out either anger or despair from him. Boasting wasn't a new tactic for William but this manner of bait was. He'd seen some more seasoned mercenaries do similar and...well...when it was your life or theirs, it wasn't too tough a tactic to stomach in the heat of the moment.

“Tch...wroooooa!” The man who appeared the most visibly upset charged next. He took the bait, and his comrades hadn't been prepared for it. This was good – they weren't co-ordinated at all. William bent his knees and held his sword up before him. His free hand gripped his scabbard as he made a sprint for his enemy. It was best that he take this one down next, before the others leaped to his aid.

[Kikuri]

Okay. Okay. This was not... EXACTLY... going according to plan, but not... completely outside outside of her expected projections. Elibe was a much... dirtier and more disgusting place than her wildest dreams had implied, perhaps even worse than Father's direst warnings. She had privately thought less of the princess who was so put out by sleeping upon a pea, convinced that she was a great deal tougher than that at least, but it turned out that sleeping on the ground was still exceedingly uncomfortable and damp and disgusting, especially in the morning, and not nearly as romantic and exciting as she had hoped. But those were just, ah, learning pains. Far too conditioned in her responses to all herself to even consider returning home, Kikuri held to what she knew, focusing more on what had been expected and taking what had not as little more than learning experiences. Freedom was intoxicating, albeit alien. She had yet to find any grand revelations of Self, nor accomplished any great deeds or stopped wars or bested the greatest warriors alive. A few would-be pickpockets and rapists at most. No one would miss their corpses. Likely none would even find most of them. And striking from a position of unexpected strength towards one who was not even a warrior held little honor or accomplishment in it. It had been necessary, mostly, but not something she had taken pleasure in.

Her training was far from over, as well, and it was for that reason that she stalked the hinterlands of whatever godforsaken backwater shithole she was taking refuge in, some... province of Araphen, she supposed. It seemed that even the would-be replacement to Ostia could not even police itself perfectly, and yet they meant to rule all Lycia? It was unnerving to think they might even have a chance of it, but the state of central Elibe was far worse than she had realized, and any likelihood of an easy solution was long since lost to history. Not relevant to her current predicament, perhaps, but it might be in the future, and she could ill refuse the musings of a mind long conditioned to see tragedy as opportunity. She did not see it quite as her father did, true, Kikuri did not revel in it as an arms salesman, but she could no more still those thoughts than she could still her own heart.

Interestingly, it appeared she was not truly alone... voices wafted through the trees, rousing the wandering maiden from her musings and drawing her towards them. The spider and the fly, as the tale went. But which was she? The clever spider, strong and wise, or the foolish fly, being drawn to her own destruction? Hm. Moving quietly was a task of little effort to her, in theory, though the occasional branches and vagaries of the ground did make it a hair more difficult than it had been on marble floors and oaken boards. Revealing... strife, in its rawest form. The ugly nakedness of a red-stained blade, fear and fury boiling as one. One man against others, their struggle lulled but the tension of impending death hanging heavy over the clearing. Perhaps that was the spider of the tale. Not any of them. They had all been drawn into the web, each of them too weak and stupid and gullible to avoid it. But which would be the avatar of the spider? Her executioner, her hatchet man. The scything talons that would cleave through the flies. Perhaps that was the only question whose answer had ever held meaning.

Acting came naturally to her. Pushing back the fear of the unknown, her fear, as if she did not even recognize it. There was no tragedy, that was the truth of it, only those who could see opportunity and those could not. And whoever she was, whatever she was, she would not be blind to its siren song. The crimson haired heiress stepped gently from her cover, exposing herself to both parties. Well aware that the path of self-preservation would far more wisely have ordered her to flee. But there was no profit without risk, no gain without the possibility of loss. And whether this was mere coincidence or if Mother Earth and Father Sky had contrived to set this stage solely for her, it mattered little.

"Pardon me, master swordsman," the halfbreed spoke sweetly, her voice honeyed but not cloyed as she modulated it to not sound too obviously false. The greatest lies were those built on truth, after all, and it was clear he was a swordsman of some skill given the cooling corpse at his feet. The politeness? That just came naturally. He seemed a bit... younger than she had hoped at first glance, but he would do for now nonetheless. "It is clear you ill need my help, but it would be an honor to aid you nonetheless."

Kikuri was not nearly self-absorbed enough to think she could handle all three of his opponents at once, perhaps one but little more. Allying herself with them would have been a sure victory. But the way they moved, acted, the stench of misdoing hanging around them. She did not know that she could trust them to leave her in peace afterward. Perhaps the lone swordsman might not either. Adolescent desire and poor judgement could easily combine into overwhelming lust. But she could possibly handle him alone if it came to it. And having an ally in a strange land could be a valuable first step to finding her equilibirium. Whether he would be a useful idiot or a temporary business partner remained to be seen.

Still smiling sweetly, the half-Sacaen unsheathed her naginata in one flowing movement, gripping its girth with both hands, tenderly as if it were a lover's grasp, steeling herself for the possibility of struggle. These... hooligans might turn tail and flee at the possibility of a fairer fight, or attack; she could not yet know which but must be ready for either.

[William]

The one who’d charged William had been one of the swordsman. Given his emotional state, his odd grip, and his total lack of any sort of stance - William was relieved that was the case. The sword was infinitely more difficult to wield than an axe, though the latter had its nuances as well. An unskilled swordsman in disarray was, perhaps less predictable to a slightly experienced novice like William, a far easier opponent in theory than a hasty axe wielder.

And sure enough the brigand’s first swing was heavy - too heavy. William cut his sprint short and brought his scabbard up to meet the blade, but his arm was forced low from the strike. A heavy swing coming down horizontally, though, meant precious milliseconds would be spent to draw the weapon back for its next strike. William’s left arm was locked in place as the brigand’s sword pressed hard against his scabbard - but his sword arm was free. He angled the blade, poised to give his foe the same fate he delivered to his lov-

"Pardon me, master swordsman,"

William glanced to the source of the...surprisingly pleasant voice and, to his damned undoing, saw that it belonged to an equally pleasant looking woman. A woman who carried a naginata, sure, but-...wait, did that beauty just say "master" swordsm-

The sellsword came to instantly regret his distraction as he was given a painful reminder, all too late, that he’d given up an easy victory against the foe right before him. The enraged brigand roared and delivered a heavy kick to William’s stomach. Winded, the sellsword was forced to pull his scabbard back from the man’s blade and quickly stagger backward. Juuuuust the kind of embarrassment he needed in that moment, let alone a quick revival of his latent panic regarding the whole situation.

“Damn it Will! Focus up...you don’t wanna die, do you? Focus up…” His nerves had shot up again. It just had to be a pretty woman, didn’t it? Had it been some ugly bloke or even just a plain lass he wouldn’t have given them the time of day. That said, for reasons he wasn’t exactly clear on, she wanted to lend her aid to William - and her arrival at the very least had shocked the other three brigands before they could regroup with the fourth.

The fourth, of course, still only had eyes for William. He dashed forward again and William raised his blade to meet another heavy strike. At least the enemy hadn’t gained his composure at all - William could still game the match into a safe victory so long as he kept cool and focused.

“Do what you want!” William called back, a bit too pre-occupied to say much else. If she was a rival merc then, at this point, he’d have to accept splitting the pay with her.

[Kikuri]

Well, he certainly lacked focus. Kikuri managed to restrain the urge to smirk at the young swordsman's discomfiture and near-tragedy... a task made much easier by the realization a moment later that if he died on her now, she would be in quite the amount of hot water with these other gentlemen. Oh, perhaps she could talk her way out of it, claiming that was her intent all along, but it would likely be far wiser to restrain her urges to see even more of his adorable confusion and focus on the task at hand instead. If nothing else he had managed to somewhat recuperate from his momentary lapse in concentration and was taking the fight to the other man with quite the amount of derring-do and bravery.

Neither of which would mean much if he was dead in two minutes, alas. Her face still trapped in an empty smile, the kimono-clad naginatajutsu user stepped forward as if to intercept the rest of the crew, quite aware that she would be extremely hard pressed to do so but equally aware that her best bet was to make use of her superior range to at least temporarily hold off reinforcements and hope that her erstwhile companion could win his battle quickly. She tried not to think too hard about what would happen if he didn't. "Well then." Kikuri spun her naginata once, twice, not confident enough in her abilities to do anything especially fancy but intending to hopefully give them a moment of pause nonetheless. "Please be gentle with me, sirs."

The reinforcements reacted in varying ways. One still seemed to be processing the situations, or at least that was her guess, while the other two looked at each other. The first began to speak - "look, you-" and then the latter shoved him out of the way, murder in his eyes as his temper seemingly evaporated entirely. "Shut the f**k up, Clyde," and moved towards her, picking up speed quickly, his axe held defensively for the moment but his untoward intentions quite clear. Well. It would only take a moment for this... Clyde... to recuperate most likely, but it seemed she would at least have a moment of what seemed a fair enough fight.

Of course, that simply meant she had to tip it much further in her favor. Fair meant they both had an equal chance to die, after all. So while she did not rush to meet him, the placid warrior maiden still stepped forward to meet his charge nonetheless, the silvery steel of her blade flashing overhead in a well rehearsed overhand swing that meant to take advantage of her target's limited upward visibility. The angle was good, its velocity well timed to meet him as he entered range, but it was telegraphed enough that the axe wielder had little issue deflecting it with his own blade as he barreled in towards her - really quite rapidly, actually, that was a bit of an issue.

Her recovery was not the finest she had ever managed but it had not been an overcommited strike on her end so the retraction was fast, smooth, and as she darted nimbly to the side, trying not to focus on how close his axe had come to simply chopping her in half entirely as it whistled toward where she had been, she brought the ishizuki of her weapon spearing towards him, the bottom of the weapon's shaft. While not exactly an ideal weapon its metal guard and the force of the thrust, almost like a blunted lance, was enough to connect with his shoulder with an audible thump and what might have been a crack if she allowed herself a moment of hope.

It was far from a lethal blow though, and while it took the axeman a moment to slow his pace, in turn allowing her to recover and bring the blade back around for a proper attack of her own, it gave away her momentary advantage as the other two combatants started moving in towards her and William. It seemed they had about as much interest as she in a fair fight.

[William]

The enemy swordsman a larger built man than William, even in his rather haggard state. If the two continued to lock blades William would find himself in a contest of strength he could not win in the long-run. For the moment, however, William strained himself and kept his blade pressed against his foe’s, and their eyes similarly locked. The brigand’s eyes were wide and wild, with the sort of fury that left a man with the sharpest tunnel vision.

Was that where his strength came from? Rage? Or perhaps desperation? Regardless, William’s biceps began to burn, as a reminder that the battle could not be won in its current state - and so William resolved to make that very strength his opponent’s undoing. The sellsword adjusted his footing and, sharply, tilted his blade. His opponent had placed so much weight onto his own blade that, when opposition no longer existed, he stumbled forward - his balance lost.

William slid his left foot back into a pivot and raised his sword arm. With a sharp thrust he smashed the pommel of his blade into the bandit’s forehead and a dull thud echoed out from the blow. His scabbard still in his free hand, William then brought it up hard into his opponent’s wrists. Either through force or pain, it was enough for the bandit to drop his sword in a dazed state.

“Calm...stay calm…”

Iron flashed above both men’s heads as William brought his blade around and down - his strike finding its mark as it cut clean down the man’s throat. The sellsword winced as a bit of blood sprayed into his face, and he stepped back while his opponent fell forward to the ground. Okay...that was two down. Three to go.

“Harry! Damned fool…” William’s eyes shot to those who still stood. The naginata wielder seemed to hold her own against at least one of them, but the other two mercenaries had approached upon them fast. William actively did his best to breathe in, then out, in a conscious and controlled matter. If he could keep his pulse in check and keep his focus - he could pull this off.

The two remaining men raised their weapons - an axe and a sword, as they approached. William had been lucky. The first of the bandits had been hasty, the second had no composure. These men had bid their time. They’d watched him fight. William hadn’t shown his entire hand in the two battles, but this would be the real test.

He stepped forward in a patch that matched their approach. Perhaps he wouldn’t best them, but if the woman could handle her foe in time then they could even the odds.

[Kikuri]

Her face carefully set in a neutral expression, doing her best not to allow any fear or flush to tinge it in unmaidenly exertion, Kikuri assessed the situation from her side as best she could... aware that she was not exactly experienced in fights against multiple opponents, her only real opponent Kisaragi in one on one duels. Fighting three people at once, even if she had the skills to do it - and she didn't - would be exceptionally difficult. From there, it was a simple train of logic to come to a solution; if she could not fight all three at once, she simply had to find a way to not fight all three of them at once. Using the swordsman, as bait or ally, was a clear choice, but relied too much on his unknown skills. What could she do to further that task personally? Cut out the uncertainty and move towards that goal personally. Far more for her own sake than William's, but doing so would aid him as well and she certainly did not begrudge that.

From that perspective, the path forward was simple. She had a small degree of time to work with and an already lightly injured opponent. Only a fool would not press their advantage. And given that negotiations would simply waste time - Kikuri stalked towards her foe with purpose, taking a small degree of pleasure in his momentary uncertainty as he reappraised her and... less pleasure in his ability to still use his shoulder, as evidenced by his grasping his axe with both hands.

Still. It was clear it was at least sore, the way he favored his right side. So as she approached she drifted slightly to his right bringing the naginata up to distract him in the moment, taking a deep breath as she steeled herself to ocontinue the fight.

Without the advantage of built up speed he was forced to meet her at a slower pace, far less quick at entering her range and more so cautious after the last change. Good lessons to learn. But not the correct ones. The blade sang in her hands, again coming down in an overhand strike the bandit was forced to block, but with less than half the weight to it of her first strike, better balanced and already prepared to withdraw. Serving to arrest his motion at her optimal range, well outside his, as the blade sank low before slashing out horizontally at his left side, forcing the axeman to turn to parry it. His weapon was vastly superior to hers in an even fight, but far less swift, and it was that she was counting on.

Exerting her strength with calculated effort, the Sacaen pushed against his weapon, attempting to engage in a contest of strength she was sure to lose - a conclusion not even a fool could miss, and while weakened by his injured shoulder the axeman was nobody's fool, realizing it and pushing back hard as he stepped in towards her to close the gap.

Seemingly taken off guard she reeled, her weapon retracting in, spinning along with her body - accelerating - the realization that something was wrong struck him a moment before her rotation completed and the haft of the naginata lanced out again, impacting the bandit's chest with an audible crack as the centrifugal force was turned into a weapon all its own. Forcing him backward as she stepped forward, adjusting her grip and ramming the ishizuki forward with a far more certain stance this time, and thsi time her strike rang true as it penetrated lightly into his bum shoulder, causing himto drop the weapon in pain and surprise.

Again she rotated the weapon, going for a clean beheading, but even unarmed the man was not dis-armed, barely managing to intercept the naginata's blade with his forearm. It sang through flesh with ease, but clashed against the bone, drawing a hiss of pain from him and jolting her hands as the not quite calculated blow proved less lethal than she had hoped.

[William]

There was no stand-off, just like the first two engagements. However neither of William’s foes rushed him with the haste of the first two. As he suspected - this would be the real challenge. He bent his knees lightly and raised both his blade in his right and his scabbard in his left. If he was to contend with both of them at once he’d have to push his capacity to dual wield to its absolute limit - and even then the battle would likely come down to luck.

The sword stepped before the axe. William knew swords well, and that it would out-range the one handed hatchet that the axe-wielder carried. The sword would strike first, but it would not strike hardest. William slid his right foot backwards and faced the foes with his left and, as he predicted, the sword did come first. A horizontal slash just like his last foe, that he successfully blocked with his sheath. In spite of his successful prediction, though, William immediately regretted his decision. The axe soon approached, the man’s arm drawn back to ready a vertical swing primed for William’s back.

And, thanks to his current stance, William’s sword arm was too far to parry the blow.

The sellsword was forced to give ground to the swordsman. He adjusted the angle of his scabbard and freed himself from his locked position. Unlike his former opponent there was no excess weight behind the sword, though, and it was William who was left with poor footing. The axe user raised his arm and dashed past the swordsman while William shuffled his feet, and the sellsword felt his panic creep back to the surface as his mind raced. How could he hold them both off?

“Hrah!” The axe came down diagonally, from William’s left-to-right. His scabbard wouldn’t take a strike from the blade of the axe all that well, so William shifted both feet quickly and met the axe with his blade. An axe head did not parry so well against the narrow blade of a sword - axe heads were fat with tricky weight distribution. If the axe-wielder had applied just a bit more force to his strike the odds were his axe would have simply slipped off of William’s blade, but no dice on that front.

William’s eyes immediately shifted from those of the axe user in front of him to the swords man behind him, and he immediately received a heavy fist to the forehead for his error. Forced to stagger back again, his vision left hazy from the strike and pain, Will defaulted to instinct. He raised his sword again and felt something dull connect to his blade - the axe’s wooden handle, while the cold iron of the hatchet grazed his forearm.

“One at a time. As they come, Will. As they come!”

The swordsman had arrived, and William lifted his scabbard to meet his blade once more. The pressure of the two men was overwhelming, and William felt his feet begin to give further ground as he was pushed back by the two of them. His vision had returned, and he saw the axe user bring his leg back. A kick was coming. A kick was coming. How did he dodge? His arms were locked. What happened if he gave way f-

The axe user only had one foot on the ground.

Instantly William drew his sword down to his hip, so that the blade’s tip faced the axe-man. The sudden shift in opposing force, just like with the swordsman earlier, cost the axe-man his balance but not enough to stop the kick. A muscled thigh connected hard with the side of William’s right leg, and he grunted in pain as his right knee bent a bit deeper. More weight was applied to the scabbard from the sword, before the enemy brought it back up to carve down once more, this time from a vertical angle.

William took advantage of not having to think of the axe man and repeated his own advice in his mind once more. He met the swing with both his sword and his scabbard and forced the weapons down on the flat of the blade. The parry was successful, the swordsman’s arm forced down, and he raised his fist in worry, only for William to swing his right arm across and carve a gash into the swordsman’s torso. Still, the fist fell, and William once again had his vision blacked out from the pain.

The sellsword’s footing gave out and he hit the ground with a thud. His heart beat furiously, and he tightened his grip on his sword and scabbard. He needed to keep grip of them. If he lost them, then he was dead. If he stayed down too long, he was dead. He blinked his eyes and began to force himself up, and he saw the woman across from him. For a moment she had not brown hair, but silver, and wore black armor in place of her pink robes.

The delusion was, if anything, helpful. It elicited a desperate sense of trust from William in a dire situation. He had precious seconds before he’d have to contend with his foes once more - and he couldn’t do it alone. The naginata wielder held the edge in her battle but he needed her to finish her foe off as soon as possible.

So William rolled forward. Instinct and experience told him that if he remained prone he’d be impaled, and sure enough the swordsman had recovered in time to drive his blade into the dirt William had just been atop of. When the swordsman landed onto his feet, in a heartbeat, he threw his scabbard as hard as he could towards the naginata-wielder’s opponent. A desperate gambit that he could only hope she would capitalize on.

After all, for a second she had evoked Shao, and Shao would definitely capitalize on it.

That said William had no time to watch for whether his gambit would pay off. Instead he stood and pivoted quickly, both hands on the hilt of his blade, as he raised it to meet the axeman’s next strike.