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Post by Renoir on Jun 27, 2015 14:29:04 GMT -6
Night had closed in, and the ride had been fairly pleasant, albeit the knowledge of what the two men were about to do kept things fairly somber. Renoir could see the outskirts of the village that he and Euphemious were due to visit when he squinted, and could clearly see the entrance to the forest that his letter had told him housed the prison and the complex that enslaved and operated civilians in what was quickly becoming the largest underground human slave trade in Elibe. Renoir hadn't ever heard of such a complex organization operating under the noses of literally an entire nation, let alone the continent, but he figured they must be fairly talented at what they do to stay undetected for so long. Hopefully, he thought to himself, he and Euphemious would be able to rout the operation and be home before dinner the next night.
Pulling Lightning, his new white steed, off to the side and heading into the wooded area near the city gates, Renoir came to a quick halt. He turned towards Euphemious behind him, speaking quietly and slowly. "Best we continue on foot from here," he began, looking over towards a shadowy area that very likely held the cave the two had been looking for. "If they're capable at all, they'll know someone is coming. And they're likely to be... good listeners, if nothing else," he turned to the knight, adjusting his tunic and checking to make sure his things were all in order. They were. By all counts, he was ready. In spirit, he feared, not as much. He wasn't ready for what he figured he would see and experience.
Renoir reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope again, reading over it once more to make sure they were in the right place. He sighed, closed his eyes, and put it back in his pocket. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, and he knew that-- but oftentimes, his moral compass prevented him from saving himself over saving others. Something he wouldn't readily admit, because he knew it was foolhardy and not indicative of someone who thought through his actions, as he normally did, but nonetheless...
Keeping his piercing blue eyes trained towards the entrance of what he could now see was a cave, he slowly walked towards it, his senses on full alert. "Let's go," he cooed, calling back to his new friend.
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Post by Euphemious on Jun 27, 2015 17:27:09 GMT -6
Euphemious was calm, he had to be. He knew that he was going to be walking right into hell and he knew that letting his emotions control him would lead to his death. The General needed a clear head for this. This group of slavers had been running there operation this long and without anybody stepping in to stop them. There was no way they did not have political ties. They probably had influence in both Bern and Lycia. Maybe even a few tribes in sacae. Eupemious knew that taking them down would be hard, but even when that was over there will be a backlash to pay. All Euphemious could do was really rely on his honor and do what he knew was right. In the end everyone returns to the earth. When Euphemious went he wanted to be sure he did the right thing.
As the duo came to the woods the sniper called for them to stop. Renoir was the master of stealth here, not Eupemious. He did not have a single stealthy bone in his body. If he said stop and get down Euphemious would stop and get down. The knight followed behind his lesser armored friend. He kept a eye out on there surroundings, but something just did not seem right to him. This was a major organization with a major slave ring. They should have guards in this forest or better yet all around here.
"The lack of guards bothers me", spoke Euphemious as he pushed in front of Renoir. "Let me take the lead I don't like the look of this", spoke the knight as he drew his sword from his belt. The General walked through the opening like a proud warrior as he made his way to the gate. His slit helmet cut off a good portion of his view, but the extra defense was well worth it. If somebody wanted to get to him they were going to have to crack open the massive amount of steel covering his body.
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Post by Duma on Jun 27, 2015 19:53:21 GMT -6
Duma was hidden within the shadows of the woods. He had a dark brown cloak on him to hide away any shine that could give him away. He had been tracking these slavers for the last three days. He was on a request from a woman in the next village over who stated that men had taken her daughter and ran off into the next town. When he questioned the other's of the village he learned that these kidnappings were fairly frequent. And that people tended to vanish whenever "trade" wagons from this village arrived into the next one.
He "interrogated" one of the wagon's drivers and learned of the cave in the woods. He also found plenty of disturbing evidence of what kind of "trade" these people were doing. Duma was unaware as to how large this specific group of human traffickers was. All he had to go on was torn map that he found in the wagon that brought him here. As he stared into the mouth of the cave, he was beginning to regret the decision of coming alone. Duma had easily dispatched of the two guards of the cave and hid their bodies among the shrubbery. If one looked close enough a person could see their hand or foot sticking out through the leaves. Duma cleaned the blood off his blade and sheathed it.
His actions were interrupted by the sound of foot steps out in the distance. Those foot steps are getting closer. He could make out the heavy foot fall and clanging of armor. A knight of some kind. And then he could barely make out the sound of another, a lighter foot fall, that just barely disturbed the leaf litter on the ground. The swordsman hand gripped his sword. Given his location, he automatically assumed these individuals were foes. He kept his back pressed to a large tree and slowly drew his blade. Wait.. for the right moment. He crouched low to the ground and prepared to attack.
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Post by Renoir on Jun 28, 2015 18:23:56 GMT -6
Renoir grinned a bit, happy that his new friend was willing to lead the charge on this one. He hoped, though, that it wouldn't be a charge, and would be instead and infiltration. Neither companion knew the numbers, or what sort of firepower lie below. The archer looked over the knight's shoulder, noticing a staircase that descended into darkness. It looked to go down pretty far, and Renoir happily stepped aside as Euphemious offered to lead. This was better, he figured, his brain hard at work calculating their chances. In a narrow passageway, this would be better. Renoir knew he was too vulnerable, even in his new leather gear, to take the brunt force of anything. Especially considering his close-quarters options were his fists, which while effective, were no match for someone who could expertly wield a weapon.
"You go, my friend," he said softly, placing a hand lightly on the general's shoulder pauldron. "I need to make sure we aren't tailed. Don't go too far without me. When you hit the bottom of the staircase, wait on me. We need to be sure we're quit of any lingering guards. The less attention, the better, after all." He laughed, letting his hand fall. He stepped back, looking out the mouth of the cave.
His eyes narrowed, studying his surroundings. The sky was dark now, with naught but the moon to illuminate the area. Renoir's eyes were well adjusted to the darkness, which was a boon to the duo; it was likely that whatever sort of prison was below would be dark, especially due to its location. The young man scanned the treeline, a hand on his hip. Everything seemed clear... There was little noise; he couldn't hear much over the sound of evening nature. These sounds were pleasing to him. He had hoped earnestly that they hadn't been followed, and all seemed fairly clear. But then--
Renoir's eyes fixated themselves fiercely on a glint he caught across the clearing. A blade? The shine was there one moment, gone another. Not a natural glimmer-- nothing in the forest glimmered. Weapons glimmered. He knew one when he saw it-- he was far too accustomed to this sort of thing to be easily fooled, or to think it was a trick of the eye. He studied the area surrounding the glint as he carefully approached, drawing his bow and pulling the feathered end of an arrow from his quiver. As he drew nearer, slowly, like a stalking wolf, he noticed ruffling in the leaves that indicated they had been walked upon. Perhaps even... He couldn't be sure.
He notched the arrow, aiming his bow forward towards the place at which he had seen the reflection of the blade against the moonlight. There was something-- someone-- waiting for him. He was wrong. They had been followed. He listened to each creak of the bowstring as he pulled back hard, readying the arrow to pierce the still air and shower death upon whatever target awaited him.
In a calm and collected voice dripping with an artificial honey born of years of sweet-talking, the white-haired man spoke softly. "Best you come out now. Maybe we can play nice if I see your face before your blade."
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Post by Euphemious on Jun 28, 2015 18:39:18 GMT -6
"Understood", spoke Euphemious. It was the only word needed. After looking at the situation and the challenges it was clear that Euphemious was the right choice to go down the stairs first. He had armor, and thick armor at that and a massive toward shield. If there enemy was smart they would be waiting for them down the stairs and around a corner. Archers were useless in close quarters. Not only would it be difficult to fire, but he would have no where to go. Euphemious and his massive armor would simply be a wall of steel keeping him from retreating. At the same time however they needed to be sure nobody came in behind them. It would soon turn into the same situation as before. So the sniper watches there back while the general marches in. sound stratagem in Euphemious eyes.
Without another thought Euphemious began to walk forward. His armored rattled with every step. The moment he hit the stair case he knew he was going to alert somebody. He just did not know who or how many. He would consider himself lucky if the enemy also had a heavy armored guard and they mistaken him for that person. Though he highly doubted it. For common criminals heavy armor was not a popular thing. Probably because of the price for it and the upkeep cost. Moving down the stairs Euphemious let out a great amount of noise. The armor clanked like a kitchen and the chains connecting some of his weapons rattled. With the spacing they were in Euphemious did not worry however. The passage was not narrow, but Euphemious took up most of the space. If anybody came running down the hall they would have to fight him mono a mono. As Long as Euphemious was better than the guy in front of him he would be fine.
As Euphemious reached the bottom of the stair case he stopped and stared into the base. He did his best to listen to see if he could hear anyone coming or anything really.
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Post by Duma on Jun 28, 2015 22:06:54 GMT -6
Duma stayed still as the man with the bow called out to him. Drat. He had been found. But from the looks of things this man did not appear to be a trafficker. If he were then Duma would have had that arrow firmly lodged into his forehead by now. Instead he appeared to be working with the general who loudly went ahead. For now Duma would have to comply with this sniper's demand.
"Alright. Alright. I'm going to get up and slowly walk in your direction. Just don't shoot." His voice was calm and collected. He did not want to elicit any fear from the white haired sniper. Duma slowly rose to his feet. He held his arm out in front of him to show he was in no position to attack. He couldn't try anything against this sniper. Duma could tell this man was skilled with the bow. He stepped out into the light. Duma's face and body was hidden mostly by the dark cloak. But if one was staring directly at him they could see his chin and the end bits of the scar.
"...I'm going to assume both you and your clanking metal friend aren't traffickers. They would have shot first and asked questions never. If that's the case then I have no quarrel with you." He had a bit of a smirk to him. In reality the swordsman was looking for a way to attack should this man actually be one of the bad guys. When he failed to see one he was forced to resort to plan B.Time to talk.
"Not too many Saceans wear full armor. I'm going to assume your friend is Bernese. And.. you just sent him off to go into the cave.. with all of that noise.. that echos in the cavern walls. Which means you've potentially ruined the element of surprise.. Thanks." He spoke that thanks with sarcasm. No truly. Thank you. It only took me like 20 minutes to kill the first two lingering guards in silence after tracking them down for half the day. The sarcastic tone in his head chimed in.
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Post by Renoir on Jun 28, 2015 22:30:01 GMT -6
Renoir smiled with delight as the man stepped from the trees to reveal himself, though the night shaded him enough for Renoir to be unable to study him completely. His eyes, however, were adept; adjusting to dark was no problem, and he frequently found himself focused on things that the light did itself not focus on. He released the tension on his bowstring, a smile on his face, and placed his arrow back in the quiver.
The man sighed, running a hand through his hair as this cloaked figure spoke. "Traffickers. So you know what's been going on here. That helps. Come, my friend," Renoir turned away from him, deciding instinctively that if this new man was a threat, he would've spoken very differently, if he had spoken at all. Perhaps the man had been hot on the traffickers' trail like he and Euphemious had been. Renoir walked back towards the mouth of the cave.
"I'll have no quarrel with you, so long as you don't get in our way. Unless you would be so kind as to help us with this little problem," Renoir said sweetly, referring to the group of traffickers down below. "I may not know what your intentions are, but an enemy of theirs is an ally of mine, I say. Ah, and yes, Bernese-- you'd be right. I'm from Ilia myself, though... I feel that these niceties are not important." He cooed, the soft voice not echoing into the night. He looked down the staircase.
"I suppose my friend has made his way down. As for surprise, well..." Renoir looked back over his shoulder towards the cloaked man. "Let's assume this stronghold is as fierce as I expect. You must figure at least a battalion of armed guards for the prison, as well as the headquarters, if that's down there. In close quarters, surprise matters not. Odds are even better that they expect us. I don't know about you, but they should, if they're smart at all, expect the two of us. So surprise isn't a luxury we get this time. Now, that said," Renoir began to take steps down towards Euphemious, who could no doubt hear the two.
"If you want to help, by all means, help. If you're an enemy, I can shoot you down later. Right now, I expect what matters is rescuing those that we can."
Renoir called out to Euphemious, letting him know that he was on his way down. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he spoke to the general. "I made us a new friend, Euphemious. I don't know his name or his station, but he could've killed me, should he have wanted, and has chosen to spare my life." The archer looked towards the cloaked man. He did love his jokes. "He's aware of the situation here, and I thought we might use a third man."
Looking ahead, Renoir saw a door that very likely lead into a main complex. He wondered how large it might be.
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Post by Euphemious on Jun 29, 2015 8:09:07 GMT -6
Euphemious stared at Renoir for a moment. He could only guess what kind of conversation or actions took place above. As the man came into light Euphemious got a bad vibe about him. It had something to do with the scar. That x shape scare just stuck out to him. It screamed bandit, but the way the man dressed and held his blade spoke otherwise. Still Euphemious did not have much stock in the man. He was not quick to trust. Renoir had earned his spot with the work he did back in the village before. This man was new. A question. For all Euphemious knew he could be working with the slaves. However Renoir vouched for him and that was enough. They were going to need all the help they can get to take down this place. The General knew that. They could not afford to throw allies away just because they were shady.
"Right well let me fill you in", spoke the General as he turned toward Renoir. "My entrance was not... well just to put it bluntly armor and stairs should not got together. They know we are here. I heard some movement further in the cave, but nothing major. I can guarantee that there is something waiting for us once we open the door, but I have no idea what. You can bet your grandmother's nickers that it is not a birthday cake and a pitcher of ale. Considering the armor value of you and our new friend I will take point", spoke the general as he began to walk forward. Euphemious pulled up his great tower shield and held it in front of his body. The General took a deep breath and then suddenly charged forward. Like a battering ram Euphemious slammed into the door breaking the lock and throwing himself into the room. The General's movement grabbed the attention of everyone inside as a burly hunk of steel ram through the door and cut a few feet in the room.
For Euphemious this was the standard knight breach maneuver. The first knight would smash into the room using there shield and take the attention of anybody inside. The other knights would then move in behind them. The first would take the right corner and the second would take the left if it was present. He expected the other two to follow, protocol, but they were not trained the way he was. They might not even know what in the world Euphemious was even doing.
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Post by Duma on Jun 30, 2015 10:50:52 GMT -6
“This is no little problem. These guys have operations like this scattered across the continent. All I hope to do for tonight is rescue a little girl and return her home to her mother.” If she’s still here. He frowned. He knew how quickly slavers and traffickers maneuvered people. He simply needed to hope the child was still here in this confine and not tied up being shipped somewhere else.
Duma has a small smirk as he listened to the droll of the white haired man. Friend? How quaint. If not a bit naive. A joke popped into his head. So.. an Ilian, a Bernese, and Eturian, walk into a den of smugglers.. He’d have to work on that later. For now he simply followed behind the sniper. He got down to final stair and managed to get a look at the knight. No.. he’s a general by the look of all that armor. He could almost feel the general’s cold stare towards him through his helmet.
Unlike, the white haired one this man wasn’t so trusting. Even though the white haired man managed to speak the obvious, if “he was an enemy he would have stabbed the sniper” line, the general did not seem to trust him. Fine. Guess I will have to earn your trust then tin head. He thought to himself. Then the general began to explain the current situation. When he talked about how armor and stairs didn’t go together. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t just fall straight through the stairs with all that you have on. He mused to himself. So, the cake is a lie. He sighed.
“Right.” He spoke out loud towards the General’s comment about him taking point. TO be honest Duma was glad that he wasn’t alone in this undertaking. Just then the general charged forward through the door like a large sentient battering ram.
“I’m going right. You take left!” He spoke to his companion and began taking the right side behind the general. His sword was drawn and he struck down one man. Time for some fun. As he struck the hooded part of his cloak came down, showing off the rest of his face.
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Post by Renoir on Jun 30, 2015 12:38:13 GMT -6
As the two charged in, Renoir remained by the door a moment, a hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised. "Are you kidding me?" he asked himself, chiding the actions of both Euphemious and this new man. He sighed, taking his bow from his back again, readying an arrow rather carelessly. "So much for treading lightly," he joked sadly to himself, pulling the string of his bow taut, the arrow notched at a perfect angle. He didn't aim his bow yet. He calmly stepped in the room.
From the looks of things, a ledger office. Perhaps they kept records here. There were two large tables, only a small handful of men, and quills and ink and parchment everywhere. This may be the room where the trades were kept on paper. This information might be useful. But for now, Renoir had his own problems to deal with. Although... None of these men were armed. What a shame.
Without changing the expression on his face, Renoir put an arrow right between the eyes of the scared man who stood on his side of the room. He notched another one quickly, and it whistled through the air as the last man received it in his chest. He was only able to glance down at it before he hit the floor, slumping back against the wall. And just like that, the room was clear. The noise had no doubt alerted any surround rooms, however. It looked as though there were two doors in this room, leading who knows where. They needed to find the prison.
Renoir stepped in, over one of the bodies he'd shot. "Right, well..." he began, trying to put behind him the fact that they were clearly on high alert. "Suppose we should continue on, then." He stopped by one of the tables, glancing quickly over some of the documents. One was a letter. He picked it up, studying it carefully as he leaned against the table next to the body of the man with the arrow between his eyes.
Marc,
Be sure you write in our accounts that we just sold a small group to the outpost back in Bern. Calli and her cellmates were getting a little wild, and tried to bite a guard as he opened their cage door. Too risky to keep here, you know the drill. She's probably en route by now, with General Emmercy, but just be sure you take out those three from the budget when you're writing things in.
Take care, -L
The archer sighed. They had missed another envoy? How old was this letter? He wasn't sure, but he did know that now they had a little more to deal with. Still, that left a potentially large number of captives here to deal with.
He lowered the letter, looking back at the two doors. He knew they'd have to split up... Backtracking would be a bad idea. He turned to his companions.
"I suppose I'll take the door behind me, and you two take the far end. It'll give you some time to get acquainted," he joked, a smile drawing itself across his delicate lips. "I found a letter here. It claims that three girls left this facility at some point, probably in the near past... But who knows. Anyway, let's continue on."
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Post by Euphemious on Jun 30, 2015 12:56:37 GMT -6
As Euphemious broke into the room he was surprised to see that nobody was armed. It did not phase him thought. Armed or not they were dirty slavers and the knight quickly put a end to there lives. With his blade drawn Euphemious stabbed the closest man in the chest and then chopped the head off of a man trying to run by. By the time he finished those two the others had cleaned up the rest of them. "You have to be kidding me", spoke Euphemious as he looked at this office. It was a shameful. These slavers were acting like honest to good merchants. They were keeping up with cost and income and even documenting cases. The general looked around for a moment and saw the word Bern written on a ledger. He opened it and quickly turned the pages. It had accounts and names. This would prove to be useful. The General quickly stuffed it into his bag and then began to check the bodies of the dead for keys.
"Alright lets move further in", he spoke when his white haired friend took control over the conversation. His plan made no sense, at least to Euphemious. The man with the least amount of armor was trying to take a section by himself. Instead Euphemious should be the one to go it alone. He had the most armor and probably the most battle experiences. However that did leave the question of the new guy. Euphemious did not trust him. He was knew and he came out of no where. Renoir vouched for him so he should stay with him. Euphemious did not like being in a perilous situation with a question mark.
"Nothing personal Renoir I think I should be the one to go alone. Not only do I have the most armor, but I am also use to dealing with multiple foes. Remember in the last fight you got stabbed. The same situation can happen again. You should take the new guy with you. He can both watch your back and serve as your blade. A bow is practically useless in close quarts."
The knight spoke nothing else on the matter. His opinion did not matter at this point. Everyone was here for there own reasons. The decision mainly lied now with the swordsmen. Whoever he followed would be the one to get back up and the other would go it alone. Without wasting another moment Euphemious kicked open the door to the other section. This time he did it jut because he liked the sound of it. Nothing makes you feel like a total badass when you knock down another door.
"We will leave it up to the swordsmen", spoke Euphemious as he began to march forward into the other part of the facility. Inside he hoped he was going toward the section with most of the guards. He knew he could take it. He was not so sure about the others though.
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Post by Duma on Jun 30, 2015 19:05:11 GMT -6
With the trafficker's dead in the makeshift office Duma put his sword away and began looking around. He wanted to try to find any information about the little girl he was supposed to go find. The little girl Calli, whom her mother described as having hair of sunshine and eyes as green as the grasses of Sacae. He was both disgusted and impressed at the vast amount of records the tiny office had. How many lives have they destroyed just to make some money? He wondered. His eyes scanned through the shelves pulling out some letters.
"These records go back years.." He frowned then slammed his fist to the table.
"Gods how many lives.." He couldn't even finish that sentence. He just stood there silently staring at the floor. His slammed fist was now shaking with visible anger. Heaven help any traffickers that crossed him now. He would show then no mercy in cutting them down like the vermin they were. He shook his head and continued to shuffle through papers. It was here he noticed that the white haired man had a letter. Duma snatched up and looked at it.
"Damn it. They shipped her out already." He spoke with a sharp tone of anger in his voice.
"Figures they start shipping the young one's first. They tend to eat less and survive better for long journeys. Plus once they get to their final destination they are usually sold at a higher cost. So their "masters" can break them... train them quicker.. and gain a slave for life." He folded the letter and put it in his pocket. He hated that he knew so much about slavers and their tactics. But he was forced to learn all of this during his travels in order to kill the slavers better. He would be upset that he had to back track back to Bern later.
"This letter isn't old. Callie was captured from her home village 3 nights ago." He looked out towards the two doors.
"If the general is going through one door then I am going to the other. Going to make each and every one of these a**holes pay for their crimes. But general is right. A bow is a poor weapon in close quarter combat. You are better off sticking with me on this one. Unless you and the general are a dynamic duo of some kind. I.. don't really care right now. I... need to kill one of them. Now." He stared down one door and opened it. A long dimly lit hall way greeted him.
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Post by Renoir on Jun 30, 2015 19:51:11 GMT -6
Renoir raised an eyebrow, solidly confused as the swordsman ripped the letter from his grasp. His facial expression didn't change otherwise, but he found the man to be a bit sensational considering their completely distant relationship. The poor man, Tiz thought. He must be a wreck over this issue. He looked down a moment, and figured that most with a gentle heart probably couldn't help but be. This was, after all, a disgusting operation-- among the filthiest of its kind.
Walking over to the man, Renoir gently placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Easy, friend. We'll find your girl." There was a touch of sincerity in his voice, often not present since the sweetness typically carried a sarcastic air about it. His anger was intense-- justified, but dangerous. Such wild and blind ferocity could get them killed. He knew what it did to the mind, how twisted it could make a person. Calmness was essential in this situation. Perhaps it was best that Renoir went with this man to prevent any danger he might bring to himself.
He turned quickly as Euphemious kicked down another door. Gods, the man thought, how brutish. That was certainly a way to make an entrance, but it was dangerous for sure. Renoir sighed heavily, disgruntled, since his plan was shot down. "Well, ideally," he began, turning to the swordsman, "The heavy armor is going to be loud. Period. Nothing will keep it from being heard. Sending the quietest man alone prevents detection-- sending even two quiet men ups the chances of detection. So why take chances, when you can send the quietest man out on his own, and send the other man with the unit who will, without exception, create the most noise? It's more dangerous, yes, but it cuts cost as far as stealth is concerned. Not that... we really had much left anyway..." he stared down the hallway as Euphemious walked on.
Now that it was just the two of them, Renoir smiled, readying his bow. "But it wouldn't matter. I likely won't use my bow in here." He was an exceptionally skilled hand-to-hand combatant; he was perfectly comfortable relying on those skills in close quarters. "Anyhow, I suppose we should be off, ah...?" Renoir tilted his head up quizzically.
"I never got your name."
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Post by Euphemious on Jun 30, 2015 20:29:00 GMT -6
It looked like Euphemious was going to be alone, good he preferred it this way. The General wanted to cut these slaver scum to ribbons. However he needed to maintain his composure. Acting on your emotions only lead to disaster, but at this time. Well Euphemious was marching straight toward it. With his sword drawn from his sheath Euphemious carried his family honor down the hallway as he came to another door. The knight could feel the tension in the room. The slavers knew he was coming and he knew they where there. It was equal ground if you asked Euphemious. The knight took a step back and readied his toward Shield. With a great charge he slammed his might shield against the door smashing it open and opening the room up.
"Fire", the word filled the air as archers began to fire onto his location. Like rocks against a castle wall Euphemious tower shield held strong. The General expected this. Looking over the brim of his shield Euphemious could see that there were five individuals in the room. Three of them had bows. One of them had a hammer and the last had a lance. Good combination thought Euphemious. The man with the hammer began to move over to engage the general. As he moved the archers fired again in a attempt to pin him down. However Euphemious had other plans. As the archers fire Euphemious charged forward the armored bruiser slammed his shield into the arrows as he swung his blade. His swing cut the path off for the hammer user to charge. Naturally the man jumped back to avoid the blade and in that moment Euphemious struck.
Suddenly the general dashed forward slamming his shield into the man. The blow knocked him into the ground placing his bottom in the dirt. Naturally he tried to recover, but a swift kick from Euphemious and a slash across his neck sent him to the underworld. The general was rewarded with the rapid ping of arrows as the three archers shot at the general. There arrows slammed against the armor and broke on the tempered steel. The lancemen however proved far the greater threat. He charged forward with his eyes set on the prize. He aimed his weapon at the separation between Euphemious breast and back plate. A wise move. As he stabbed forward Eupemious turned his body at the last moment. This threw off his stab causing the man to hit the stern plate armor rather than the open gap.
Quick to react Euphemious turned and sliced at the man with his sword. The soldier hower had pulled back before he finished the slash and rushed in once again to try and stab into one of the knights openings. As he charged forward he was followed by three arrows which tested the strength of Euphemious armor. Rather than try and brawl with the man Euphemious got wise. The knight dropped his tower shield. The moment the man moved in the general stabbed his sword forward causing the man to fall back or be impaled upon his blade. Using the opening Euphemious pulled his second weapon from his bag of tricks. With a iron axe in his left and a wyvern slayer in his right Euphemious faced his enemy with pride.
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Post by Duma on Jun 30, 2015 20:56:24 GMT -6
"Hmm.. the girl is simply my charge.. she's not 'mine' so to speak." He sighed softly. The white haired man's gesture was appreciated. The sniper then made a few comments about the rather loud general and then asked Duma for his name.
"Ha.. no offense.. I prefer not to say my name. Traffickers are powerful enemies. Get on their bad side.. They learn your name.. they find out who you are.. start targeting your family.. your friends... if you are lucky they just kill you. If not they force you watch your loved ones either get tortured.. or worse." The swordsman shook his head. Duma could feel his blood pressure escalate. He needed to calm down. He was still on a mission, on a job. He couldn't afford to let his emotions dictate his actions. He took several moments to breath and calm himself down. Again he stared down the long dimly lit hall way that awatied them, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
"So.. for the sake of safety I am calling you Snow. It is short, sweet, and simple." He turned to the sniper. This was the first time he was able to get a good look a the man. To Duma the man looked like a veteran of some kind one who was experienced with the ways of war. A man who knew how to survive. It was strange, the sword master felt like he was staring at a small part of himself.
"There will be plenty of time for us to talk and share stories after the job is done. If you have a nickname I suggest you speak it now." He nodded softly before turning around to face the tunnel. He began walking into the darkness.
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