Allen's muscles screamed in protest. Still, the sparring session had been fruitful — it helped him gauge the full extent of his strength.
The stone halls were silent, the flow of time here was elusive; one had to be very keen and sharp to make out if it was day or night.
Allen happened to have noticed something- one could actually tell the difference by observing the glowing orbs embedded on the stone halls- brighter the orbs hinted at it being day ,dimming as night came and progressed.
Now one could barely see- the orbs giving a faint glow- just enough to give a faint outline of carved stone.
A pause.
Allen thought he might have heard something.
Continued, his pace slower,muscles tensed, ready to snap at moments notice. It never hurt to be vigilant.
This time, the sound was definitive. Shuffling of footsteps, someone or something was skulking,,,trying to be stealthy in an effort to get closer.
There was a turn a few paces down ....a perfect place to lay ambush.
Allen played it off, pretending. Nevertheless, his hands were hidden within his cloak- caressing the handles of his shortswords.
>>Swish<<
Allen ducked, the blade slicing air just above his head.
His attackers had shown themselves.
He had lingered too long in neutrality — a luxury only the powerful could afford.
How could he have fogotten, the mounting tension within the enclave,the wispers, the rumours.
Well, he couldn't be blamed- he had been engaged somewhere else; clutching, fighting from the embrace of death.
Yet still, it had all caught up to him. He was an anomaly, a threat... he had to choose a side. Not that he would.
Three assailants, two behind him, one in his path.
They were all masked. Two with swords the other, a hammer in his grasp.
They said nothing...cautiously eyeing him ....the first blow should have finished him, it always worked. Not today.
Allen stood, his feet slightly apart, his eyes scanning, analysing, calculating the best way to dispatch the assailants... noting their stances, their subconscious shifts; then he snapped, towards one of the two behind him,the weaker link... there would be no escape... only blood would give him way.
The ambusher struggled to dodge,too late ...parry.
His quick response might have just saved him...he managed to keep his head attached. Got a slash across his hand, a minor wound, yet bleeding.
The other two closed in...pincered Allen before he could adjust and couterract.
The hammer came in devastating blows, its path simple and predictable but still devastating when they connected... not that Allen would give them a chance to land a hit... the blows landed on stone, shrapnels whizzing past as they flew.
One was closing in,,,too close ....Allen could not afford to be caught unaware. A slash came...too wide...he would gravely pay for that... Allen ducked in and under the slashing hand ....shortsword held in reverse grip...sliding the sword's edge across One's neck; lethal.
He then proceeded to do a roll sliding out of the hammers way.
One was trashing and twitching, sprawled on the ground clutching his neck, his life's essence (blood) slipping through his fingers...he was on his death throes. Unnoticed, his shadow twitched, detached and headed for Allen's own ....swallowed. All this happened in a split second.. the had already trashing stopped, dead.
Two and Three's stances shifted nervously ...it had now become real ....grim reality of them not coming out of this alive.
They attacked at the same time.. Allen had to choose ...the executioner's sword or crushed by the hammer.
He dodged the sword strike ....putting himself on the hammer's path... he blocked with his right...
Shatter<<
His shortsword shattered in two...his internals rocked....on the same breath...he did a counter...stabbed...through Two's chin, sword's tip poking from the skull. Two was dead before he dropped.
Taking Allen's momentarily distraction Three swiped is sword across Allens back.
The stinging pain...his shortsword on the right broken...the other stuck in Two's head.
He turned ...dropping a kick on Three's head, clutching his sword holding arm in the same motion, disarming him.
"Who sent you..."
A smile across Three's face, something is wrong.
Before Allen could figure it out a stab came from his behind ..a fouth ambusher!
He could barely dodge.
Rolling, he had managed, though by the skin of his teeth.
The Fourth seeing his attack had proved futile, turned tails trying to run....
Barely two steps, his body twitched....a dart from his behind his head ,,peeking through his left eye. His body went limb ...crashing down.
Three was scrambling to reach his sword.
With his half-broken sword Allen slit his throat.
Stood to scope his sorroundings...nobody else ...no witnesses.
He then paced ...going for his shorsword. Dislodged it from the skull,, squelching of brainmatter shattering the silence.
Picked the other piece of his broken shortsword.
He examined his intact shortsword, chipped worn out, it's a miracle they survived till now. Not surprising the other gave out mid battle. They needed to be replaced.
He then reached for the sword on the ground- testing it out...threw it after a few swings. Too long, too bulky for his taste.
"Thats nasty."
A voice in the shadow commented, Irvin
"Seems you got caught in the storm. Tough luck kid"
Allen watched him... his eyes calculating ...analysing his form ....No ill intent.
Allen ignored his comment; pretended he didn't hear.
Went on rummaging through the corpses...seaching their coin pouches...taking the coins ....it had been quite the haul.
He had gotten a few silvers richer.
Proceeded to dislodge the dart from the skulking bastard, Fourth ambusher...now dead.
No evidence of his presence left behind.
He headed for his assigned space, It would take a few minutes to get there....that just shows how massive the underground enclave was.
Now Irvin walking side by side with him.
"I reckon, you will need a new set of weapons eh'?"
Allen replied with a grunt.
"Then come find me tomorrow. I have a place...U'll love it" Irvin continued " There's the appeal to dwarven smiths, great forgers. I see u liked my gift, the darts, quite effective eh' ." He finished with a smirk.
Allen could't help but caress the two darts; 9 inches long slender and hollow, possibly to hold poison. Effective and durable indeed.
He would seriously consider the invitation.