[Second Hazard]
Aros's narrowly ducked beneath a whirling scimitar, which cut through the space above his nose with deadly efficiency. The second blade came in the form of a jab to his right side, which he also side-stepped, before parrying the blade outward from his body with his own saber. A third scimitar came whistling along a downwards arc behind him, and to counter it, Aros sent both of his swords over his shoulders in an 'X' formation. The scimitar caught in-between the blades, and with a twist of his wrists it came loose from his attacker's grip. Then, with all three assailant's having just attempted to strike, Aros let loose a flurry of attacks in all directions; with his antique rapier, he jabbed at the two in front of him, causing them to retreat some, while the third behind him attempted another strike. This time, the attacker attempted to slice instead of chop, and by sheer agility Aros managed a full spin on the tip of his toes to catch the blade with his saber.
The assailant's eyes widened visibly, despite the fact that most of his face was obscured by wrappings and trinkets. Aros lunged forward, battering the single assailant with both blades simultaneously, until he dropped his weapon from the sheer fatigue of parrying two barrages at once. Disarmed, the man was no match for Aros, who expertly wove his rapier straight through the attacker's hamstring. Now crippled, and howling in agony, the attacker retreated while his two cohorts--now encouraged by the screams of their friend--charged him at once, each swing their scimitars in a downward arc at each of his shoulder blades.
They mean to literally disarm me at once. Clever strategy.
Had he any less than two swords at least one of his arms might've been lopped off at the shoulder, but the half-elf caught both blades at the apex of their arc with his own. For a single moment (locked in the embrace of their weapons) all three men looked at each other in the eyes, one after the other.
"You know, it didn't have to be this way! I really tried to be nice to you guys and you just let me down!" Aros shrugged, before lifting his feet high off the ground, and delivering a double kick in mid-air to each of his assailants. All three men fell backwards, but Aros used the momentum to perform a backwards somersault, which allowed him to get back hom his feet faster. The half-elf kicked the hilts of their blades away, and swiftly punctured both men's kneecaps with his rapier. As extremely sensitive part of the body, the kneecaps--while not a deadly target--were more than enough to leave them writhing in agony like the first assailant. Now, Aros stood silently, hardly abel to hear his thoughts over the wailing of all three of the men he had assumed to be traders. Of course, on his approach they had revealed themselves to be raiders of the desert--affirmed only by the bags of loot, and dangling skulls, that hung from their mounts.
"Frankly I just wanted to join in on all the fun singing and partying and now..." Aros looked at the men, each desperately stifling their cries and applying pressure to their wounds. "Well, now it's obvious your party is over. Kind of sucks, really." Aros casually strolled to the large lizard they had been riding atop, and ruffled through the bag of junk at its side until he pulled from it a weathered, and yellowed map. "Ah-ha! This is just what I needed!" Aros turned back at his fallen enemies, all of which were staring at him with bewildered and agonized glares. No doubt, they had expected him to kill them, as opposed to leaving them cripples. "Hey I just wanted to say thanks for the map! This desert is literally so boring, and with this baby I don't have to wait around so much. Good luck finding a hospital, and all that jazz my friends!" With that, Aros grabbed the horn he had spotted previously from the ground where his attackers had dropped it. There was still some sort of drink in it, and while it wasn't a mead it certainly was alcohol of some sort. It tasted like dirt and salt, but then again that might've been his chapped, sand-weathered tongue and less so the drink.
Unrolling the map, Aros mounted the large lizard creature, and took hold of the reigns.
No use wasting this bad boy if it means I finish this quest any faster.
"Good-bye my friends! If you ever find a doctor, tell them Aros the mighty sent you! HA-HA!"
Aros's narrowly ducked beneath a whirling scimitar, which cut through the space above his nose with deadly efficiency. The second blade came in the form of a jab to his right side, which he also side-stepped, before parrying the blade outward from his body with his own saber. A third scimitar came whistling along a downwards arc behind him, and to counter it, Aros sent both of his swords over his shoulders in an 'X' formation. The scimitar caught in-between the blades, and with a twist of his wrists it came loose from his attacker's grip. Then, with all three assailant's having just attempted to strike, Aros let loose a flurry of attacks in all directions; with his antique rapier, he jabbed at the two in front of him, causing them to retreat some, while the third behind him attempted another strike. This time, the attacker attempted to slice instead of chop, and by sheer agility Aros managed a full spin on the tip of his toes to catch the blade with his saber.
The assailant's eyes widened visibly, despite the fact that most of his face was obscured by wrappings and trinkets. Aros lunged forward, battering the single assailant with both blades simultaneously, until he dropped his weapon from the sheer fatigue of parrying two barrages at once. Disarmed, the man was no match for Aros, who expertly wove his rapier straight through the attacker's hamstring. Now crippled, and howling in agony, the attacker retreated while his two cohorts--now encouraged by the screams of their friend--charged him at once, each swing their scimitars in a downward arc at each of his shoulder blades.
They mean to literally disarm me at once. Clever strategy.
Had he any less than two swords at least one of his arms might've been lopped off at the shoulder, but the half-elf caught both blades at the apex of their arc with his own. For a single moment (locked in the embrace of their weapons) all three men looked at each other in the eyes, one after the other.
"You know, it didn't have to be this way! I really tried to be nice to you guys and you just let me down!" Aros shrugged, before lifting his feet high off the ground, and delivering a double kick in mid-air to each of his assailants. All three men fell backwards, but Aros used the momentum to perform a backwards somersault, which allowed him to get back hom his feet faster. The half-elf kicked the hilts of their blades away, and swiftly punctured both men's kneecaps with his rapier. As extremely sensitive part of the body, the kneecaps--while not a deadly target--were more than enough to leave them writhing in agony like the first assailant. Now, Aros stood silently, hardly abel to hear his thoughts over the wailing of all three of the men he had assumed to be traders. Of course, on his approach they had revealed themselves to be raiders of the desert--affirmed only by the bags of loot, and dangling skulls, that hung from their mounts.
"Frankly I just wanted to join in on all the fun singing and partying and now..." Aros looked at the men, each desperately stifling their cries and applying pressure to their wounds. "Well, now it's obvious your party is over. Kind of sucks, really." Aros casually strolled to the large lizard they had been riding atop, and ruffled through the bag of junk at its side until he pulled from it a weathered, and yellowed map. "Ah-ha! This is just what I needed!" Aros turned back at his fallen enemies, all of which were staring at him with bewildered and agonized glares. No doubt, they had expected him to kill them, as opposed to leaving them cripples. "Hey I just wanted to say thanks for the map! This desert is literally so boring, and with this baby I don't have to wait around so much. Good luck finding a hospital, and all that jazz my friends!" With that, Aros grabbed the horn he had spotted previously from the ground where his attackers had dropped it. There was still some sort of drink in it, and while it wasn't a mead it certainly was alcohol of some sort. It tasted like dirt and salt, but then again that might've been his chapped, sand-weathered tongue and less so the drink.
Unrolling the map, Aros mounted the large lizard creature, and took hold of the reigns.
No use wasting this bad boy if it means I finish this quest any faster.
"Good-bye my friends! If you ever find a doctor, tell them Aros the mighty sent you! HA-HA!"
