The arrow was tossed back at Errden as he dragged a hand through the tightly wound dreads, the small silver ties in them shining in the light as he stared her down, analyzing everything about her that he possibly could. She was wearing a light armor as opposed to earlier, a quiver hanging off a belt that also held several blades of different sizes with arrows similar to the one that had just dragged him down to street level. She was holding a longbow was made of fine wood and iron, a small green glow coming from the tip of the arrow staring him in the face as he looked over her fair features. "So to what do I owe the royal pleasure?" He asked, reaching back with his free hand while keeping the black blade pointed directly at her. Fingertips pressed against the wound caused by the arrow, his teeth grinding together as he felt the sustained pain from it before he pulled them away. He didn't have one of his potions on him at the moment so he couldn't just down it and instantly get better, having to rely on the natural regeneration he was afforded thanks to his particular kind of magic.
"The King has been seeking an audience with you for some time now. He wants to see you before him so he can speak with you about the events that occurred during your stay with the Order." She said, tugging the arrow notched on her bow back just a tiny bit more, watching him as he shook his head to clear of dust and rubble. "And if I don't want to talk to him?" He asked, fingers twisting along the hilt while he held the weapon parallel with the ground. "Who says you have a choice?" came the response, a laugh accompanying the arrow that flew his way. He deflected it with the flat of his blade as adrenaline kicked in, more focused on the woman trailing after the projectile than the missile itself. Dodging off to the left, he rose up and met her own blade with a clash that caused a bit of a ringing to bounce off the walls around them, getting close enough to keep her from using her bow on him.
Errden was a skilled fighter, her own leaf shaped sword matching his blow for blow as he slashed, jabbed and parried in an effort to wear her down. She was on a different level than the grunt he had been dealing with beforehand though, the magic user having no time to think things out if he wanted to make sure she didn't cut him too deeply. He ducked as the hair on the back of his neck stood up, kicking away from her just in time for the mechanical dog from earlier to go flying between them from a missed pounce. It circled immediately, dividing his attention between both the high strung elven lady and the killer pooch who, he was pretty sure, would have been salivating if possible. Upon closer examination, it looked much more stocky now, like it was built to take down more than one person at a time.....or to simply maul a single person when it eventually caught up to them. "Back up is unfair." He grumbled, reaching down to a second scabbard that hung off the back of his belt, a long knife sliding into his left hand that he held in an icepick position. "When you're ready, Milady." He said, even having the nerve to gesture for her to bring it.
Another arrow was released now, another roll to the side to avoid it to imbed itself behind him with almost half the shaft buried in the wall. He was light on his toes now, not bothering to block or deflect any of her shots as he focused on taking down the aggressive metal animal. It was focused on him too, rushing him and jumping into a leaping tackle once more. His body dipped down low, crouching before springing back up and caught it with a shoulder to the middle of its body to send it sprawling across the ground. A grunt came from him as he did so, pain shooting through his back as he moved too slow to get out of the way of a dropkick that sent him sprawling as well. He lost his grip on one of his blades for only a second, being knocked out by an arrow slamming into it near the handle and sending it flying from his grip. He pulled back and kicked the beast in the face when it snapped it's jaws at him upon getting back to its feet, his sword stabbing and slicing at it when he wasn't avoiding being turned into a pincushion by the elf. "Is that all you got? I've seen better archers when I was taking a stroll through Eindswood!" He shouted in her direction, taking two steps up a nearby wall and twisting in place to corkscrew upon it in an effort avoid two addition arrows that had been centered on his chest.
YOU ARE READING
The Shadows Move With Us
FantasyA born anomaly. Gifted in ways that are not given to the rest of his people. Chosen to accept the request of a king. The survival of his people demands it.
