The Chained Watcher

Backstory: Fight! Fight! Fight!

~~~

Teleporting to the entrance of his newest client's base, Xelqua frowns upon seeing no one here to greet him. He told them what time to expect him, so why are they not here? Surely they're not attempting to make power plays against a Watcher a Tier higher than them, right? Even he shows respect for those above him!

Could this order have been a trap set by the higher Tier enchanters who want to take his methods from him? He's had to be particularly wary of those as of late, so it's not impossible. But if that's the case, then why was he not ambushed immediately upon arrival?

Not that such an ambush would have worked, of course. He knows how to escape an unfavorable situation when the need arises.

He enhances his senses, closing his eyes. His hearing sharpens further. Sounds like... fighting? Ah, so they did not greet him because they were occupied with a fight. Might as well wander over. Ooh, they might even raise the price for making him wait! He doesn't like twisting others' arms like that, but he won't say no if they take the initiative all on their own.

When he's halfway there though, a heavy thump shakes the trees. He frowns again. Were they fighting some kind of giant? The terrain prevents him from seeing the source, but that level of impact is only present when something rather large and heavy falls to the ground.

Cresting the hill, Xelqua perceives two small figures catching their breath next to a bloody corpse. Well then. So much for this job.

While he's silently sizing the two Listeners up, one happens to cast their eyes around, gaze snapping back to him as a flicker of horror slips past their guard and into their gaze. This Watcher was only a Tier lower than him, so these Listeners are capable of hurting him, but judging by their own wounds and their heavy breaths, this was not an easy battle. Should he fight, they will lose.

Despite likely knowing their weakness, the same as he does, the two Listeners jump to their feet, brandishing their weapons with a grim expression. Aww, now isn't that cute? Just look at them, glaring up at him while brandishing their weapons like that. Alright, he'll play if they're really interested.

Lightly, he teases, "Now that's cute. You're all tuckered out, but here you are, still trying to fight the big bad Watcher."

The two Listeners nod to each other, strangely silent even for Listeners. Alright then, since they want a fight...

Reaching into his robe, Xelqua withdraws a strange sword, the blade and grip shifting and morphing whenever one looks away. It's as if the sword itself can't decide what style it wants to be, thin and elegant one moment, then broad and rough the next.

The fight begins. Unlike the usual fighting style most Watchers end up falling into, he practically dances, moving with an elegance that belies his size. The normal display of overwhelming force, forsaken in favor of precise bursts of speed. And the heavily favored AOE attacks? Cast aside almost entirely to make room for uncanny precision. It's like pinning an ant with a rapier. Who would bother when crushing it with your boot is easier?

Xelqua would, apparently. Despite how comical the size difference makes it look, he pokes the tip of his abruptly whip-thin sword at them with absurd precision, forcing them to deflect with their own weapons or get skewered.

When they dart back to gain distance, he twirls his sword with a smirk. None of their attempts to goad him into reckless haste do more than increase his amusement. Do they think him a child, to be riled up by such petty words?

He is, admittedly, not primarily a sword-fighter. It is the weapon he is most comfortable with, yes, but it is not the focus of his fighting style. But he doesn't truly see this as a life-or-death battle. He's toying with them, strength controlled so precisely to where he could stop his strike the moment it touched their skin.