Maes and Abe - credits to
@Red Thunder
"
Gods!"
Maes cut to the side, toward the door through which Ender had disappeared suddenly, throwing himself unceremoniously against the wall with a dull thud. The roiling mass of blackness meant for him smashed through the abandoned space and impacted the far wall. Sword still clutched securely but awkwardly in hand, as if it were some lifeline he didn't quite know what to do with, Maes scrambled to his feet.
"Abe!" he huffed, breath short with adrenaline and eyes trained on the enemy. "You okay?"
"Verily…" Abrecan's response came from beside Maes, uttered through gritted teeth and labored breath, "
Move!"
The caster's arms, wreathed in darkness, were in motion again. Abrecan's calloused hands briefly grazed the farmer, as if he had intended to move the man out of harm's way, before thinking better of the laborious task. He flung himself against the opposing wall, shoulder barging painfully into stone.
Twisting blackness once again barreled toward them. Maes found himself alone as his companion dodged to the side, escaping the attack by moments. Eyes shifting nervously from friend to foe, the farmer wracked his brain, trying to consider a plan of action of
any kind. But nothing came to mind; his experience was one of slow labor and not fast paced combat. So he did the first thing he could think of. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Maes sprinted at the Shadow Caster, sword held high with both hands. And the Caster, hand emanating darkness, stepped forward to meet the charge, caught Maes' face in his hand, and lifted him off the stone floor.
Behind them, Abrecan shuffled alongside the wall, searching for an escape that never presented itself. A curse escaped like a whistle between pursed lips, as he brought his dagger to bear. His face grimaced, and settled into a reluctant, angry resolve.
He bound to the opposite wall again before leaping forward, hoping that Maes' body would serve as an adequate blindspot. His roar faded into a shrill rasp as it died in his mouth, and he realized that it would not.
The Caster heaved the farmer towards the con, the latter having barely enough time to move his dagger out of the way before being struck by the man's weight. And not one to scorn opportunity, he raised a hand toward them, almost lazy in surety. A shadow of deeper darkness than was natural crept toward them along the floor, slow but unpreventable. The stone it infected withered, crumbling to ash where it touched.
Maes' grip, already tenuous with inexperience and fear, broke with the force of the Caster's brute strength. Positioned as it was above the farmer's head in attack, it fell toward its intended target, striking the metal mask with a sharp ringing tone. Though it lacked the force of a true swing, the blade still managed to bite into the metal mask he wore and drag it heavily across his face. The mask's sharp edge caught in flesh, tearing into it deeply with bloody reveal. Screaming angrily in pain, the Caster doubled over as he raised a hand to his wound in an attempt to stem the blood flow. The shadow disappeared, the Caster's attention elsewhere.
Maes groaned, untangling himself from Abrecan even as the sword hit the floor. He grabbed a hold of Abe's shirt and pulled, trying to help him up.
"C'mon! We have to go!"
"Obviously!" the conman grunted as he rose, the flowery affectations of his speech thoroughly forgotten. Exasperation colored his expression, before his eyes caught the sight of the pained Caster, and went alight with the gleaming spark of the opportunist. "... he's… not casting…"
Almost immediately, he pulled at Maes' hand again, placing his dagger nearabouts the farmer's palm, "He's bleeding. You. You
finish him."
The farmer's face paled in response, and his hand refused to close around the hilt.
"
F-finish him? This isn't some animal we're about to eat; this is a person!" Stammering, Maes looked at their enemy, trying his best to suss out another means of protecting themselves. Another means of subduing the threat. "What if- what if we break his arms instead? We don't need to
kill him!"
Some distance away, the screaming was lessening, turning to a thin hiss as Shadow magic stitched the wound together in slow and unnatural repair. It wouldn't last, and in some small time, it was likely to set the wound to rot; shadow magic was not meant for healing. But it would give the Caster time, and that was good enough. For now, however, he remained doubled over against the immobilizing pain, giving the duo some small time yet.
Abrecan's gaze twitched and fluttered with uncertainty, blinking to and from the shadowy stitches and the farmer's reluctant hand. He prodded the hilt once more towards Maes' palm, and perhaps another half-prod before relenting.
"You… you coward." Abrecan spat, frightful. "I will do it."
He consolidated the knife into his grasp once more, and made for the helpless one.
"No, you won't!"
Rushing forward, Maes took hold of Abrecan's wrist and darted through the outer door, back toward the open alleyways. Beyond, the cart stood as it had been left, braced against a few rocks to prevent it from rolling off. Abe was drawn along in the farmer's irresistible grip, pulled away from his target and out under the sky. Behind them, the Caster growled angrily at his retreating prey, and with slow heavy steps, he followed.
"You
mad dog," Abrecan yelped, wrist straining and reddening beneath the laborer's deathlock. His head moved wildly upon his neck with the jolt of a thrashing fit, torn between the knife and the imminent shadow of the Caster. And all the while, the Caster trudged on as if a force of nature unbound, draped and woven in shadow. He would be
upon them.
Somehow, Abrecan freed himself from Maes' grasp, perhaps aided and abetted by the slick of their perspiration. The knife, miraculously still in hand, flashed in a flicker of steel, before vanishing, as if magicked out of existence.
One could hear the clink of steel on stone, the blade having bounded off a mound of viscera unto the road. Before them there was only the Caster, and his arm, wreathed in black, fist clenched from having batted the weapon away. Sneering in a horrifying grimace, he opened his fist and began raising his fingers toward Abe.
Suddenly, the Caster's head was snapped back forcefully, as if someone had taken hold of his hair and yanked it behind him. A
greenish sphere bounced off his face with a
crack, crushing the man's nose against his face and spraying blood in every direction. A few bits of green rind and yellow vegetable flesh stuck to his face as he fell, and the impromptu missile fell to the ground alongside him.
Maes lifted another green round vegetable in his hand, ready to let loose another barrage. It seemed it would be unnecessary; the Caster lay for the time unconscious in the street, and the farmer breathed a hesitant sigh of relief.
"Looks like his intentions have been squashed."
Abrecan, delirious, could only laugh.