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Viewing Single Post From: Whispers in the Wild and a Vengeance
Fyra
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Eleforian Elite Guard
The grin was plastered upon his face, his eyes veiling his inner feelings. Rage started rising at the suggestion that he let him take Sigh, My wife! without a fuss. But it was overlaid with a cool calculation. There was something about the man who stood across the fire from Shayne, a familiarity, not just by type but by a faint stir of memory. The comment of heroics made him chuff in slight laughter, a quiet chuckle. Battling against the men he could see and the others he doubtless couldn't, wasn't heroics to him. It was battle: bloody, filled with the rush of adrenaline and the excitement of danger.

His eyes were icy as they stared upon Kerac, knowing that he was familiar, not quite able to place him. There can only be so many bandits willing to let one go without fighting though.." He searched for tales, but could recall none that struck a spark. He rose slowly to his feet, rolling his shoulders slightly, and blinking, keeping movements nonthreatening, though his catlike grace gave him a naturally dangerous aura. He leaned on his claymore, just enough so that the tip sank into the ground about half an inch. Trying to catch most of the men, if not Kerac himself, off guard, he pulled upon skills learned while he had gone on his pilgrimage, preaching. Pitching his voice to carry, capture attention, and "What a pity... I would've so enjoyed some warrior company. Traveling with a woman is tolerable, but men are so much easier to be around. No complaints, no insistence on taking rests..." He tilted his head and scrutinized the man. "You even look like you could teach me a few things about swordplay. You might even be able to impress my Order, and that would be no easy feat, at your age, since they take so many in at such young ages..." He didn't believe it, but it never hurt to flatter the enemy, and at the same time, convince him to underestimate his opponent.

He shifted slightly, and held in a yawn. He didn't want to have to deal with this man and his cronies, but the insult to Sigh, the assumption that he would give her up, and not try anything. He was not sung about in bard tales, but Shayne knew that many in the areas he had traveled would remember the blue-eyed, black-haired paladin who had passed through. He knew in the jungle area there were still small stories told, not spread far, of a man who had been ambushed on the road and killed the bandits who had been plaguing the area. It was not this group, nor as small, but it was still something that told of his ferocity.

Shayne's eyes darkened, and his smile turned into half snarl. "Were your request to share fire, food, or even maybe money, though we have little to spare, since we are on journey, I might've been willing, good sir... But you stepped over a line that any man who has heard of the God of Battle, great Leosine, would know... Never threaten a warrior's woman." His lips twitched a little, wanting to bare his teeth as his eyes blazed with heated fury. Part of him wanted to brag of Sigh's own prowess, but he did not want to give away her invisible strength to the enemy, when the number was unknown.

"As such stands, sir, you leave me with no choice but to either abandon my morals and ethics, or to try, as you called it, heroics... though a good battle of uneven numbers has ever only been fun to me." His grin was ferociously feral, his body not tense, but as another warrior, Kerac would see that his relaxed state was one in which he would be able to spring into action. Shayne felt nervousness rush through him. No doubt there were archers, and without armor, he was poorly protected against missiles. But he shoved the thought out of his mind, sending a silent prayer, a warrior's prayer, to his god, knowing that so soon after a divine blessing he would not have the same strength, or speed, but knowing that it would still do good to his fighting heart. "Blessed Lion of Battle, lend me your strength and speed, give me your claws, so that I may bathe in my enemies blood.' He stared at Kerac, waiting. He would not initiate attack. "Leave now, and I shall allow you to continue your lives, unmaimed... What good is a bandit when he misses a leg?" His voice had dropped a little, a rumbling growl that carried through the bushes, it's threat obvious in his eyes as they scanned around the clearing, addressing not only Kerac, but his group as well.
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Whispers in the Wild and a Vengeance · Pathways of the Five Pilgrims


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