What’s this now? Urberer thought to himself. Mild frustration pinched at his brain and traveled through his body as his mind was forcibly pulled from the synergy of the fight to the real world, too the life he knew with all its weights and chains. A sigh came as even the force of blows he was delivering were half hearted. He wanted to back away from his combatant now; but knew she would keep up the fight.
Or would she?
She let out a sigh and stopped her advance skipping a step back, placing her in mid range, not exactly on the assault nor fleeing, but just at the position where she could do either if she chose. She kept her weapons up but eyes shifted to the new arrivals.
Urberer recognized the group immediately. They were the same people he had seen earlier at the Floggin’ Inn. He knew this not because they had anything that stood out, but just the exact opposite. Their cloaks were nondescript and drab. They hung well over the head and hid the faces of the people underneath. They were so plain that in a group of people they would be easily ignored. But now, as a group of six people, with no other Low-Townees in sight, their artificial blandness stood in contrast to the space. Low-Townee may have been poor, but it had character. These people were uniquely without it.
Urberer kept his staff in a ready position but eyes the men as they began to move to his position.
“Well, Dusk Walker, here I was thinking I’d get you all to myself. I guess you have, hmm, friends?”
He heard the uncontrolled sucking of teeth from Dusk Walker.
“That’s fine. Most people want a piece of me. But I’m surprised you stopped attacking.”
Her voice was pitched lower and she said “No. They’re not my friends. But they seem to have a fish bone to pick with you too.”
“Monk, you’ll come with us. Be a sport and not fight or we will have to break your leg bones. Nothing personal really. Just wanted to let you know,” said a cloaked man, standing a foot above average and with a heavier build. His face was mostly shadowed by his cloak, except for his nose, which appeared to have a crooked bend to it. His voice was graspy and his walk was surprisingly quiet for a man of his size. Aa he kep walking forward he shifted his head to stare down Dusk Walker. His voice had a predatory joy to it “And if you do it quick we’ll be nice to your little girl here. Hey boys,” glancing over his shoulder “I think one like her will ring us up a good price too.” The men following behind him laughed.
There are six of them. Interesting. I only saw three at of them at the Inn. HE thought to himself. “Well sir. I’m not doing confessionals at this hour. This young lady here begged me too and I simply was making an exception. But I won’t have any more time after I’m done talking with her. Perhaps you can tell me who you are and how I can find you later.”
“You won’t be making any exceptions monk.,” the leader of the group says. He snaps his fingers and another three people wind the corner. “Nor will you be making any more confessions. You’re to come with me.”
“He’s my mark. And who are you?”
“Don’t worry little lady. You will know me soon enough,” the leader of the group said, his voice dripping with overtunes of something nefarious.
Urberer’s head turned back to Dusk Walker. “Think these guys might have your Abby? Shady fellows who don’t want to take no for an answer and all. I got word that people were being abducted, including your Abby. Maybe we can work together. You know all we’d have to - oof,” as a poof of air escaped Urberer’s longs from the swift side kick that Dusk Walker landed. The solid strike momentarily incapacitated him. He looked at her in suprise.
“You are my mark. And I work alone,”she looked at him, as if he should have expected no less. She then challengingly pointed a dagger out at the obviously leader of the group. In a forceful voice she exclaimed “He is my mark. You will not touch him. If you know of Abby whereabouts you will tell me now or …” her tone drops again, gaining a grimness as she contemplates the horrors in her mind “or you will beg for death esviscration.”
“Abby?” The man stops and laughs. “Like we’d remember all the names of some commoner scum wenches. Another body, another silver as they say in the trade. Wait …” he turns to face one of the bodies next to him, “unless it’s a fine piece of ass like the boss got himself. Pigtail braids, curves that’d make you sick like the seas, and a face just waiting to for the white cream if you know what I mean.” He licks his lips. “I would’ve paid good money for that one. And boss claimed her all for himself. I wonder what he did with all that cloth she had in her satchel. He could have at least let us have it”
“Did you say, satchel of cloth goods? As in tailored cloth goods?”
The man shrugged. “I guess people shouldn’t send their daughters out on night errands. I mean come on. They were asking for it. Just like your’e asking for it now girlie girl. Huh. A guys loins get quite heavy dreaming about a fine piece of ass while at sea. I’m thinking you’ll help me drain some of that excess. And then may’haps you’ll do so for the rest of my boys. What do you think guys?” The large man glances over his shoulder. The men laugh and even a few congratulates him on his willingness to share. He continues “now, you don’t have quite the thick form of the other girl. But you’ll make do.” He licks his lips. “You’ll make do alright. Do good enough I might just keep you to myself.”
The men behind him, and the growing number of those that encircled Urberer and Dusk Walker all let out noises of disenchantment. They began to boo him, say its not fair, and even the occasional “come on Captain.” Urberer had regained himself at this time, realizing the numbers they were facing went from a reasonable six to near twenty, and growing.
This is becoming a problem. I had planned to catch the abductors. Do it by myself. Keep the good guys like Gricrir safe. At this number I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it out. Without… Urberer’s thoughts were interrupted by the loud laughter from the man in charge.
“Men, men. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure we get a few for your needs just the same. I’m not heartless after all.” He focuses on Dusk Walker, who had been as still as a rock this whole time. He then says “See. I’m trying to help you out here. I may be a rough man. But not heartless. Breed me a few bastards and I might even let you steer the ship.” A random voice yelps out “hey’s that’s my job” to which everyone else laughs.,
Stolen novel; please report.
This is bad. Urberer thought. The thought was at first for his female companion? The thought quickly changed as the woman, who he thought heart was stolen by fear and body petrified by worry, turned her head to look at him. Her face was still shrouded by her garbs. But eyes, eyes he thought were beautiful peered at him. And it was in that moment he saw it; unbreakable will and fury. It shook him. It sent shivers throughout his body. He had seen such a look only a few times on the battle field. A look whose presence was compared with the ferocity of an orc berserker. It was a person who would not bow. Who would not negotiate. Who would be unrelenting. It was the look of a person whom a stab through the heart, would only just make them madder. That after you stabbed them their body and mind would continue to fight until as their hands became numb and cold due to bloodlost, they could no longer feel pain. They were the person who would die while having placed their weapon in the heart of ten more men, only stopping because no more blood was left to tell their body to stand. They were death incarnate. Her eyes lingered on Urberer just for a moment, almost as if to say “did you hear that”. Those eyes turned backed onto the man. A man Urberer was sure did not know what he was dealing with, because only the hardened warrior or trainer has seen such.
Dusk Walker bent her knees, let her shoulders drop, and looked at the ground.
“Come on girlie,” the man provoked “it won’t be that bad. Once you get used to my size you won’t even cry anymore.”
“Shadow Art,” Dusk Walker said quietly. Or it would be considered quiet to anyone else. For Urberer it was as loud as a shout. It was no the words that were said or the volume that invoked this. It was his knowledge of what it meant. It was liken to him the sound of someone unsheating blade. It was low, but it was the alarm of death and danger.
Did she say Shadow Art? She can use Dark Magic, and that of the Assassins league? Who have I been dealing with. How did Abigal’s family even get in contact with an a person trained in the dark arts?
“What was that girlie? Did you say you were sad?”
Urberer yelled out “No! Don’t provoke her!”
“Wraith’s assault”
And it was in this moment that Urberer realized he was too late.
****
“Wife’s ass? No, no. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going to marry you.” The man laughed. However the laugh turned midway into a cry of pain as the pommel of a dagger shattered his sternum, held in the hand Dusk Walker who was now in grabbing distaNce off him.
The large goon and everyone else saw had seen it coming, but could not respond in time. At the end of Dusk Walker’s words, black wavy fumes started at her feet, swirling up her black leather boots, and up to her whole body. Then she had launched herself like a sprinter toward the man and plastered her blow. Her speed was unnatural in Urberer’s eyes; a blessing that only magic, enchantments, or a god could give.
Now she stood there, pommel wedge deep into the man’s chest. She dropped into a straddle split on the ground in front of her target before he could ever brings his arms up to his dented chest cavity. Daggers still in hand, pommels out, Dusk Walker hugged the mans legs near the ankles tight. She forcefully pulled her arms back around and ran the blades deep into the man ankles, cutting through any protective gear there and eliciting a yelp of pain. She did a backwards roll and use the momentum to put her back into a stand, looking at the thug like a painter looking at their unfinished work.
The expression on the goon had gone from shock to pain, to even more excruciating pain. He bent down to access his ankles and then immediately stumbled and fell backwards. While he was falling Dusk Walker slashed upwards with her blades, cutting through cloth and hitting the meat of the armpits, leaving red stains on the mans cloak.
She separated the tendons at the back of the foot. He won’t be able to stand, let alone fight or even runway. Even as a healer, that’s hard to heal. Months really. Urberer thought to himself at the display of precise skill.
As the man fell backwards Dusk Walker descended upon him like a bird of prey upon a new morsel. The thought was furthered etched in Urberer’s mind as feathers could be seen falling from the shadow mist that still surrounded her.
In an instant she know straddle his calfs, with her own calfs pushing down and out on the goons ankle. The man let out a blood curdling cry of pain.
Daggers still in hand she, she stabbed out to soft inner thighs of man’s leg and then dragged the blades up and around to where his hips would meet with his pelvis.
Ruthless. She stabbed him in one of the hardest parts to toughen up on the body and yet I’m sure, chose to miss the main bloodlines there, insure he’d not bleed out in minutes.
The cut had flayed the man’s pants, creating a perfect, separated triangle above the mans pelvis. She pulled the cloth back like a flap, exposing the mans his and the cloth used cover his groin.
“Please, no!” The man blurted out as quickly as he could, his mind seeming to just catch up to the pain that had been so quickly dealt to him.
Urberer looked at the other men. Dusk Walker had moved at speeds they could not respond too. But now she had stopped. There was moment they could act, he thought. However, they were stopped in their steps, their expressions of both shock and mortification.
Just like bullies. Bullies don’t know how to respond when someone stands up to them. And followers of bullies really don’t know how to respond when their “leader” is soundly handled, be it with words or force. Urberer thought, his eyes went back to this merciless handling, one he knew was too late for even him to stop.
Still straddling him, Dusk Walker shimmied up the man’s legs onto the top of his thighs. Her cut had made it such that there was no blood where her legs placed. She flipped one of her daggers over in her hand, the pommel now at the base of her hand. She started to draw circles with it on the mans pelvis, near where his hip would connect; a sensual and weak part of the body.
“Stop? If I weren’t mistaken, you wanted me. You wanted me on top of you. And you weren’t sure if I could handle your length. Let me confirm that for you,” Dusk Walker said. Then with the dagger whose pommel was still at head of her grip, near her thumb, she stabbed down on where the man’s member would be.
She stabbed him in the dick! Urberer thought, wincing.
“Aaaaaahhh. Bitch, you fucking bitch. Biiitch- eughe,” the mans pained yells turned into screams as Dusk Walker commenced to walk her daggers up the entirety of his torso. The man tried to reach up to swat her, but his arms kept failing to raise.
She cut the tendons and ligaments to his arms too?
Dusk Walker pulled her self up onto the man’s toros, he let out a deep breath from the weight of her sitting on him.
“Not thick enough? Is that not what you said sir? One should never speak to a woman in such a way.” She then slashed her blade across his eyes, blinding him. Shen then leaned in close to his ear, pushing his head down with her forearm. The man at this point had blood tears running down the side of his face.
“I told you you would wish I ended your life by eviscration. I can keep this going or I can let you leave this land. Just raise your hand if you want me to let you keep living. Raise it high.”
The man grunted and tried to raise his arm, arms that no longer work.
“Oh. Not going to raise you arm. So you’d like to die then. I keep my word. I will grant you death. I am merciful. Die a quiet death.” She laid her other blade against the bulge in his neck, and pressed down. The blade took purchase and she rolled off of him, causing her blade to run alongside his wind pipe and vocal cords.
She stood up, the man at the ground now dying a gurgling quiet death. “Who’s next?”
*******