23rd Trial, Cylus, 719a
Mistral Woods, northwest of Mistral Village
Dusk
Mistral Woods, northwest of Mistral Village
Dusk
Continued from here
He was making his way down a tunnel, and not just in the obvious sense.
The myriad of deals and wrangles, deceptions and strategies that he'd used to get to this point had been forgotten. They were the wider world, multifaceted and requiring all his attention to manage. This place, in his mind and in the bowels of the earth, was narrower. Less to consider, yet what was to be bore far more import. Here was death and life in every step and swing of a blade. All other concerns were paltry at best, distractions at worst.
The Etzori walked through the passage of rock and stone, lit here and there by blazing torches. The bandits had been here for sometime. After today, it would be naught but a tomb... and not for all of them, either. He used his ears more than his eyes; listened for steps and shouts, running feet and hissing words in the darkness. There was a clamor ahead of him, echoing off walls and damp rocks coated with lichen and crawling things that knew no sun or rain. Impossible to directly define, in terms of distance and number.
It doesn't matter, he thought, words as cold and precise as the stones watching him with blind faces. They're all dead men.
There were no words in his mind as the first man came screaming down the hallway, around a blind corner. Well, mayhap the word "fool" whispered through him, like a disappointed sigh. The ragged man with a shaved skull could have skulked there and sprang from an ambush. Instead he came at Kasoria with his hatchet swinging, spittle flying from a roaring mouth, trusting to shock and fear to rattle the invader-
Clearly, he knew not what had come for him.
Kasoria took a quick step back and swayed in the same direction, hatchet flying in front of his face instead of burying into his skull. He kept going a few yards as the man righted himself, noting that he needed a trill to do so. He'd overextended; trusting surprise and strength to do his job for him. Kasoria would not allow him to make the same mistake. The bandit screamed again and lunged, hatchet swinging backhanded at him this time-
-slamming into the gladius he raised to block it instead, crash of metal becoming thunderous in the narrow tunnel-
SHKKKK
Kasoria's right arm moved almost in the same moment, slashing the karambit horizontally across the man's thigh. Curved blade ripping through flesh and fat and muscle, leaving a hideous, gaping wound ringed with tattered flaps of skin in its wake. More pain than rage filled the next scream from the man as he collapsed down to one knee. He ripped the hatchet back and swung it at Kasoria again, only again the little killer blocked him-
-lunging forwards fast as a striking snake, getting under the reach of the crippled bandit. Right forearm stopping the swing of the hatchet as it slammed into the arm holding it-
-karambit he held slashing down an instant later, reverse edge of the blade slicing through the meat of the man's upper arm. Suddenly the bandit's arm was as nerveless and aflame as his leg, and the hatchet dropped-
-still falling, useless and forgotten, no help to him now, just as no force in Idalos could have stopped-
-the gladius in Kasoria's left hand thrusting forwards. The little man's face was twisted into a grimace of effort, as he swung his hips and shoulders into the blow and-
CRUNCH
The short sword did exactly what it was designed to do: punched through flesh and bone like it was paper. Kasoria felt the man's breastbone resist the impaling thrust for the barest of moments. Then it gave way with a crackling crunch, like a dog snapping through bones. Softer meat was beyond it, and the gladius sank deeper and deeper into his chest cavity. The bandit's eyes popped open; his mouth squirmed and gaped but nothing came out. Not until Kasoria twisted the blade, pulping whatever quivering things within the man the sword had skewered, and then yanked it free.
Something between a groan and a sigh oozed from bloody lips. Then the man fell forwards, and before he'd even settled onto the bloodstained dirt-
-Kasoria was already walking away from him. Weapons now scarlet in the torchlight. Face streaked with the stuff.
Narrow. Simple. Honest. As honest as it can get, for a man like you.
He rounded the corner the man had come from, and two more figures came running towards him. Kasoria gripped his blades tighter, and charged.
The myriad of deals and wrangles, deceptions and strategies that he'd used to get to this point had been forgotten. They were the wider world, multifaceted and requiring all his attention to manage. This place, in his mind and in the bowels of the earth, was narrower. Less to consider, yet what was to be bore far more import. Here was death and life in every step and swing of a blade. All other concerns were paltry at best, distractions at worst.
The Etzori walked through the passage of rock and stone, lit here and there by blazing torches. The bandits had been here for sometime. After today, it would be naught but a tomb... and not for all of them, either. He used his ears more than his eyes; listened for steps and shouts, running feet and hissing words in the darkness. There was a clamor ahead of him, echoing off walls and damp rocks coated with lichen and crawling things that knew no sun or rain. Impossible to directly define, in terms of distance and number.
It doesn't matter, he thought, words as cold and precise as the stones watching him with blind faces. They're all dead men.
There were no words in his mind as the first man came screaming down the hallway, around a blind corner. Well, mayhap the word "fool" whispered through him, like a disappointed sigh. The ragged man with a shaved skull could have skulked there and sprang from an ambush. Instead he came at Kasoria with his hatchet swinging, spittle flying from a roaring mouth, trusting to shock and fear to rattle the invader-
Clearly, he knew not what had come for him.
Kasoria took a quick step back and swayed in the same direction, hatchet flying in front of his face instead of burying into his skull. He kept going a few yards as the man righted himself, noting that he needed a trill to do so. He'd overextended; trusting surprise and strength to do his job for him. Kasoria would not allow him to make the same mistake. The bandit screamed again and lunged, hatchet swinging backhanded at him this time-
-slamming into the gladius he raised to block it instead, crash of metal becoming thunderous in the narrow tunnel-
SHKKKK
Kasoria's right arm moved almost in the same moment, slashing the karambit horizontally across the man's thigh. Curved blade ripping through flesh and fat and muscle, leaving a hideous, gaping wound ringed with tattered flaps of skin in its wake. More pain than rage filled the next scream from the man as he collapsed down to one knee. He ripped the hatchet back and swung it at Kasoria again, only again the little killer blocked him-
-lunging forwards fast as a striking snake, getting under the reach of the crippled bandit. Right forearm stopping the swing of the hatchet as it slammed into the arm holding it-
-karambit he held slashing down an instant later, reverse edge of the blade slicing through the meat of the man's upper arm. Suddenly the bandit's arm was as nerveless and aflame as his leg, and the hatchet dropped-
-still falling, useless and forgotten, no help to him now, just as no force in Idalos could have stopped-
-the gladius in Kasoria's left hand thrusting forwards. The little man's face was twisted into a grimace of effort, as he swung his hips and shoulders into the blow and-
CRUNCH
The short sword did exactly what it was designed to do: punched through flesh and bone like it was paper. Kasoria felt the man's breastbone resist the impaling thrust for the barest of moments. Then it gave way with a crackling crunch, like a dog snapping through bones. Softer meat was beyond it, and the gladius sank deeper and deeper into his chest cavity. The bandit's eyes popped open; his mouth squirmed and gaped but nothing came out. Not until Kasoria twisted the blade, pulping whatever quivering things within the man the sword had skewered, and then yanked it free.
Something between a groan and a sigh oozed from bloody lips. Then the man fell forwards, and before he'd even settled onto the bloodstained dirt-
-Kasoria was already walking away from him. Weapons now scarlet in the torchlight. Face streaked with the stuff.
Narrow. Simple. Honest. As honest as it can get, for a man like you.
He rounded the corner the man had come from, and two more figures came running towards him. Kasoria gripped his blades tighter, and charged.