Its Brawl in a Day's Work (Galahad/PM for Entry)

[Vincent]

Ilian nights, they were impossible for someone to forget, the chilling air and the clouded skies that lead to near perfect darkness. Why would Etruria have invaded here? It simply made no sense to Vincent. Regardless though, his work was done for the day and that meant getting out of the cold. He and his fellow mercenaries coming off shift were eager to get to the tavern. As they pushed open the doors a blanket of warmth came over them. It was wondrous, all in all, and had his stomach not been so demanding of his time Vincent would have taken the chance to go right to sleep.

"Guard duty, I swear its never exciting and its boring as all get out but at least its the easiest paycheck a man can ask for," one of the mercenaries beamed as the whole group found a table to huddle around.

"After dealing with bandit cults and fighting monsters in Lycia, I admit this was nice. But these cold nights are murder. I can't believe I wanted to make my name here once upon a time," Vincent replied only half jokingly. Reaching backwards Vincent caught the attention of the waitress for his table as they all ordered.

"Now, why not make your name here still? If you take the fight to Etruria you're bound to make a name if you keep killing those dullards."

"Yeah! I mean, why don't you?" Another chimed in before Vincent could speak.

Vincent smiled weakly. "Well, you've all seen a monster or two by now I'm sure. I'm afraid that is the war I have given my blade over to. Etruria IS a danger to all of us, make no mistake, but if you saw the bulk of these monsters as I have you'd understand my decision. Besides, I made a name in Sacae." He smirked.

"What do you mean?"

"They call me Heelcutter out there."

"Never heard that title, but sounds like you must have really messed someone up to get that. Care to share the tale?"

"Maybe after some food." Vincent smiled as he left the others in suspense, but more than anything he wanted to eat the arriving food uninterrupted.

[Gallahad]

Gallahad was quick to reply when he had been grabbed from behind, the attacker's arm wrapping around his mouth. He bit down, though to no avail against the thick cloth covered the arm, and was wrestled into a small cut-through alleyway next to the town's tavern. He was flung to the ground and instinctively rolled as a boot came crashing down a moment where he was before. He looked up to see the face of Earl; one of his most consistent tormentors. He scowled, fairly familiar with the tactics his attacker would apply next. Death might be better sometimes...

"I'd be stupid to assume you came alone." Gallahad muttered, glaring at the larger boy.

"Hm. I don't know - I'd be more than enough to take YOU but... that wouldn't be very generous for my friends now would it?"

As if to a cue - three thugs came marching around the bend into the small opening. They wielded clubs that, albeit wooden, would leave a serious mark if they landed a blow on him. Screaming was not a viable option - the walls were thick stone and anyone still outside this late would be either drunk or craven. Gallahad reflexively patted his right hip, the spot where his sword usually sat. Damn... if I only had brought it for once.

He now had to take on three larger opponents, as he was sure Earl would be scarce to do anything himself, armed with weapons in tight quarters while he had nothing. It wasn't anything new, and Gallahad simply cracked his knuckles and took a stance.

"Come get some, then." He snarled.

[Vincent]

The night was drawing to close rapidly and Vincent and company ate their fill. "Well boys, I regret to inform you but tomorrow night is my last watch. My favors will be returned then and I need to get back to Tuscana. Besides, I am no fan of this weather any longer. Done this too many times already."

"What? Already? I don't know if I am more dissapointed or jealous!" The mercenaries had to agree. "Well, knowing you you'll leave right after the watch so, BARKEEP! ONE ROUND OVER HERE! We're going to toast to a good trip."

"Oh come on, you guys know I am terrible with alcohol," Vincent weakly protested but went with the pace the others set. It did not take long before he was having one final round of drinks for the night. After knocking back the mug of mead he dropped coins on the table and bid the others farewell for the night. Most of them had rooms above the tavern but Vincent was staying in a different albeit nicer inn.

Stepping out into the snow layered street he pulled his fur lined mantle closer as he watched the early flurries of snow fall from the sky. The sight of it always took him back a bit, just before it soured his mood when he remembered how inconvenient it was for travel. He sighed softly watching the wisps leave his lips. Before he could get far from the tavern he heard voices in an alley. No good business was ever conducted in the alleyways this late, if ever.

'Getting involved partner?' Phoenix Heart questioned.

'Possibly.' Vincent thought back before inching over to the wall to peak in on what was happening.

"Come get some, then." It would seem a boy was about to get into a brawl? He was certain he'd seen all he needed to but he hesitated just a moment more to ensure he was not jumping to any reckless conclusions.

[Gallahad]

Perhaps taunting three armed ruffians when he had nothing to defend himself with was a mistake. The three rushed forward all at once, crude but vicious weapons swinging from different directions. Gallahad reactively ducked under the first and blocked the second on his forearm, which hurt like hell and would leave a bruise but not much worse. The third took him off guard and cracked across his jaw, lifting him up off the ground for a fraction of a second before he came crashing down, blood leaking from his mouth. The pain in his head subsided for a split second before coming back with an even greater fury, pounding away at his skull. The thugs had stepped back for the moment, watching him write before preparing for another attack. Gallahad stood up shakily, preparing with what power he could muster to defend against the next onslaught.

He grimaced internally as he felt the newly acquired case of 'jaw hinge', as it felt lose and refused to move into its' exact spot. They weren't going to kill him - this had happeed enough times for Gallahad to be sure of that. That did not mean, however, that they would not be unwilling to break a few more of his bones. Earl had moved slightly farther into the alley after the first attack and was chuckling at the spectacle. Gallahad wanted nothing more than to be able to wipe the smug look of his face - but he had more pressing matters to attend to as the trio quickened their speed towards him, weapons preemptively rising.

[Vincent]

That was plenty of confirmation! Too much confirmation even. Blast! He could not let that kid get beaten like that again! Gritting his teeth Vincent drew his throwing knife and ran into the alley Moving right for the unsuspecting Earl. Coming up from behind him he grabbed his shoulder pulling him back into his waiting leg. Sweeping the boy off his feet he put the knife to his throat and shouted at the two with the clubs. "I would stand down if I were you two! He might be unarmed but I can promise you my blades come with a bit more kick."

It was then he realized that all four of these people were just a bunch of kids. They were armed and violent sure, there was no debating those facts but they were all so young. They may even be younger than he was back when he first became a novice mercenary. Blast! He had no desire to kill any of these boys but they did not need to know that, and well, if they thought they should take him on regardless of this then he would leave them with a few broken bones for their troubles.

He held his knife to Earl's throat with one hand and kept his weight on his chest with the other. His left arm was free to move but Vincent placed his knee firmly into the joint of his other arm. "Are you okay kid?" He asked the one with the bleeding mouth.

[Gallahad]

What happened had only taken a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Gallahad. Someone, presumably a guard, came rushing into the alleyway and had grabbed Earl, holding him in a lock with the boys' eyes bulged and mouth hung open - fearful of the knife near his neck. The thugs glanced warily at each other before dropping their weapons and raising their hands in surrender. The guardsman spoke: "Are you okay kid?"

He was presumably speaking to Gallahad, who lifted his face and attempted to smile - only to be cut short by his mess of a lower jaw. Though not detached from his face, most of the bones had clearly been broken from the swing and it was still pulsating blood. Powering through the pain, Gallahad opened his mouth to speak: "Musthtly gud ser." He managed to croak out in a garbled tone. Rubbing his face reflexively, he attempted a sigh which also failed. "Besidsh the fash, only ma pride."

Seeing his savior in action had been both amazing - and thoroughly depressing for him at the same time. It highlighted how weak he really was. He had gotten completely dominated by a bunch of back-alley ruffians and even a simple guardsman had been able to quickly dispatch them in a few moments. Gallahad clenched his fists together and attempted to hold back tears from pain and shame, which only partly worked. Great. Now I'm also crying... He thought miserably. He looked up again at the guard and wiped his face, blood mixing with the tears.

[Vincent]

Vincent wished the boy would not have talked. His jaw was far too brutalized for that and a simple head nod would have sufficed. "Right then," Vincent put his knife into a sheath strapped to his boot before standing and pulling Earl to his feet. "You're lucky all of you are young and I'm off duty. I would have sent you to prison of worse."

He proceeded to pat a heavy hand against Earl's chest. "If I have made myself clear then get going." Since they dropped their weapons they should not be a threat any longer, but there was no telling if there would be any lingering hostility and hidden knives even if their fear left him doubtful. He watched them as they fled and only when he was certain it would be the end of things did he turn his attention to the grateful, but crying boy. He was eerily reminded of himself way back when village kids bullied him, though there were far less clubs involved.

"Anytime kid. Come on, lets get you to a local priest. Last thing we need is your jaw setting like that, and try not to talk if you don't absolutely need to." With all that messy bit out of the way Vincent urged the boy to follow him but while staying ahead of him as he did so. He wanted to ensure he knew everything he was getting into with helping the kid out so he asked two questions, "Do those boys harass you a lot like that?" And once that was addressed he followed it with, "Can we expect them to come back with others or more like them?"

[Gallahad]

Though his vision was growing fainter by the moment, Gallahad could still see clearly enough to see the man return his knife before uttering some words to Earl, who prompted scampered off, his thugs in tow. Though he attempted to restrict his tears, some were persistent and made it through, spilling onto the stained cobble below. Gallahad muttered thanks again, and the man game him a small smile. "Anytime kid. Come on, lets get you to a local priest. Last thing we need is your jaw setting like that, and try not to talk if you don't absolutely need to.""

The man began leading Gallahad with gestures, staying a few paces ahead as they weaved through town. He didn't say much at first, but his silence was abruptly cut off by a question. Do those boys harass you a lot?" Gallahad simply nodded. Can we expect them to come back with others or more like them?"

He nodded in reply again, before considering what he should say. "I ushualy handl them. I hash a shword I didn't bringh."

Though he was truly grateful for the stranger's intervention, he could hardly pass off his problems to someone like him. That would earn him even more ire and distaste with the other boys around town, and he certainly didn't need that. He was only semi-confident that once they saw a real weapon in action, that would be enough to scare off anyone who would try to hurt him again. At least, he hoped so...

[Vincent]

"For their sake's, I pray they don't come back." Vincent did not want another fight, but more than that if those boys returned regardless of him that meant there would be blood. Their blood before his or the boy's if he could have a say in the matter. Speaking of fights the boy revealed to him that on a good day he can fight the boys off on his own and that he carried a sword on him for protection. The way the boy spoke disturbed Vincent deep down even if he did not show it outwardly.

"Well, if you have a sword and a whole lot of enemies then you are either an arrogant fool, or an absolute novice. Carrying around weapons all the time may not be one's idea of fun or comfort but to leave yourself open as you did today was reckless. First rule of combat is to always keep your weapon on your person, that way you're never found wanting." He sighed then, "And secondly, if your idea of a way to retaliate is having a blade then tell me this? Did you intend to use it against those boys?" His voice was stern in his questioning. He needed to know where the boy's mind was at.

"Plainly spoken kid, if you wanted to flash it off to make them back down it might work the first time, maybe the second or third. Hell, maybe it would aid you for years, but eventually someone will wisen up. At that point could you wield it and truly strike one of them down? Then say you had the nerve for it, could you handle that gang of three alone? maybe you'd stick one of them, two even, but numbers will overwhelm even the best of warriors." It was one thing to own a sword, it was another to understand what that truly meant.

[Gallahad]

"For their sakes, I hope they don't come back." The man said, keeping stride but hesitating, as if thinking about something "Well, if you have a sword and a whole lot of enemies then you are either an arrogant fool, or an absolute novice. Carrying around weapons all the time may not be one's idea of fun or comfort but to leave yourself open First rule of combat is to always keep your weapon on your person, that way you're never found wanting." He sighed then, "And secondly, if your idea of a way to retaliate is having a blade then tell me this? Did you intend to use it against those boys?"

Gallahad paused for a moment to absorb what the man said, before opening his mouth and getting cut off as he began speaking again. "Plainly spoken kid, if you wanted to flash it off to make them back down it might work the first time, maybe the second or third. Hell, maybe it would aid you for years, but eventually someone will wisen up. At that point could you wield it and truly strike one of them down? Then say you had the nerve for it, could you handle that gang of three alone? maybe you'd stick one of them, two even, but numbers will overwhelm even the best of warriors." His tone was firm and unwavering, and it placed a weight on Gallahad's shoulders that was uncomfortably stuck there.

"Ish not mah falt they attck me." He began, wincing at the pain but pressing on. "I cary a schword bcush one day I will git away frum thish place. Sthey are nosthin more than thugs, and a schword will schare them off." He paused for a moment, letting his mouth rest and taking a breath in through his nose. "I did nert hash my schword bcush I went to visisht my mum today." He didn't want to go into details with a stranger - but Gallahad had learned all too recently his mom's opinion on his... dangerous new hobby. "Fer gods sake kid, you tryin' to give your old lady a heart attack?!" Her words still rang clear in his mind and he inwardly sighed. One day he could learn the blade, and one day he could finally bring the family of the poverty the world so cruelly placed them in. Earl and his clique were just the first of his tests... that he should have faced alone.

[Vincent]

And so there was a reason for his recklessness, there always was. Vincent did not comment immediately instead allowing the two to cover more ground without the boy needing to speak despite his jaw. He was not done with him but he would let the boy have time to ruminate on his prior words. The two entered an apothecary minutes later.

"Oh, Vincent, what'd you do this time?" A young cleric inquired.

"Not me, this one." He nodded his head in Gallahad's direction.

"Oh my," Go take a seat dear, and I will get to mending you up in a moment. Looking to Vincent the cleric asked him what happened.

Handing over the coins for the treatment he gave his answer, "Kid got into a street fight with some locals; he had his fists and they had clubs."

"Oh my indeed, dreadful, simply dreadful." The cleric soon approached the boy for the healing process. "Now, I don't know if you've ever had a healing from a staff but everyone experiences it a wee bit differently. For some it is painless and others..." The cleric's voice trailed off.

Vincent rolled his eyes and laid it out for Gallahad. "In other words what she is saying is that with the way your jaw was knocked out of place the healing process may go smoothly, or you will feel every bit of the shifting of bones and repairs. What the body does slowly unnoticed is a lot different when it is a rapid change. She can bandage it and give it time or fix it outright, it just may hurt. Your choice."

Vincent felt inclined to help the boy and wanted to show him the way of things and what he was getting himself into but he simply did not have the time. If he was going to get back to Lycia it was not a short trip and he needed to spend some time in Hero City and check on his home there too. He was particularly concerned with the state of his garden doubtful that anyone he had asked to tend it did, or to the quality he would have. He stayed only long enough for the healing process to be finished. During the procedure he took a trip to a local armory to buy the boy a simple blade he could carry on his way home. If Vincent was not going to be able to protect and help him it was the least he could do, and it was a simple enough weapon as to cost him virtually nothing.

[Exit thread]