My Kingdom for a... Pet Shop? [o]

[Dao]

Dao steeled his nerves as his eyes caught up on the movement after the male had finished making his stance. His fingers tightened across the hilt of his weapon that was still parallel to the floor and at his waist level. He took a breath, lungs filling up with oxygen as his body stilled. He saw the burst like movement, how his opponent crossed the distance between them with a notable amount of speed. The move was laced with training, discipline, and a pattern that Dao had encountered one too many times in his stint of a bandit. There was something wrong a few steps in and though the young man had readied his sword to strike against the tip of his opponent's sword to cause it to veer far away from it's intended target, Dao did not.

The following footstep made his body lurch forward in a dangerously low sweep, his body following the sheer gut instinct that ordered him to survive. As his opponent unleashed that dangerous and forceful horizontal backslash, the bandit swung in an upwards arc with as much strength as he could muster. The bladed edge of his bronze sword impacted with the flat side of his opponent's own weapon with enough force to supposedly send his opponent's sword arm upward and at the same time to force his enemy into a momentary imbalance.

Using the momentum from his swing, the young man spun his body in accordance to his weapons pathway and twisted around. In that twist, Dao curled up one of his legs and tucked it in before snapping it forward in a brutal frontal stomp aimed at Eric's abdomen.

---

[Eric]

He had expected his attack to have little effect on his opponent and he hadn't been let down. Eric smirked briefly as he felt his adrenaline kick in, the sensation of going up against someone who was practiced in swordplay... Eric hadn't been in too many real fights himself. He was the son of a nobleman after all, but his self-imposed duty forced him onto the field now and again and this wasn't the first fight he'd been in. Though his sword's momentum was shifted upward he managed to retract backward, dampening the kick that struck his tensed stomach. It didn't hurt so much as created spacing. Fluidly, Eric's arm circled into a vertical slash trailing upward, his back hand steered his blade.

* * * * * *

The evening sun shone down on him, the autumn breeze shifting the short purple hair of the young boy wielding the wooden sword in both hands. Though his muscles ached he still managed to swing the sword. His movements had gone slow and rigid a long time hence but he wouldn't allow himself to stop, not until his teacher told him to. Eventually that time had come, his hair matted to his head, the young boy plopped down on the grass looking up at the sky. Though not often, it was times like these his mentor would share stories of his life. It was a life of struggle, of war, of loss. His teacher had said when fighting, one could come to know his opponent-- Eric hadn't understood what his teacher was saying. It was in the moment that he understood his opponent and could sympathize with him that he was able to defeat him. Though, his teacher smiled, the brightest moment he had known was when that man had withstood his blade. He had made a true friend that day.

[Dao]

He felt the resistance of the flesh go against his attack, in his swift retraction of the attack however Dao had not been able to properly determine if the hit had been solid enough. The fact that his opponent was barely pushed backwards, and that he wasn't cradling his stomach meant one of two things. That one, the guy had some damn good stomach muscles or two, the nobleman had quite the reflex to deflect the strike like that. Regardless of it, the battle had yet to be decided. Dao had stepped forward then, changing the side of his body that faced the other male as his sword hand snaked upwards with the blade before crashing the bladed side downwards.

As his sword and his opponents blade met, locking against each other as they clanged against the ground beneath, Dao felt the reverberation of the strike go through his arms. Not in the way that strength opposed strength no, but more so in a more primal level. The kind of understanding only created between those who have exchanged blows. And in the face of such a fact, the Feroxi male indeed understood that his opponent was sincere…if a bit selfish. There was eagerness in his strike, a sort of politeness that could be attributed by his birth. Yet even in the face of that instinct, Dao refused to give up.

He had his own reasons, strong reasons that had carried him through the changing of seasons.

"Why?"

And even with the question, Dao continued to place pressure against the sword whilst balancing himself in order to refrain from overextending.

[Eric]

The two swords clashed with a metallic retort, neither swordsman gave an inch as the both of them held their position from one another. It was clear to Eric, this boy was obviously trained. He was agile and light on his feet as proven by his earlier feats, pair that with his skill with the blade and what did he have? Someone who was used to fighting to protect himself from his surroundings. It seemed more and more likely this boy was a mercenary of sorts. It was entirely possible he'd fallen in with a bad crowd and wasn't a mercenary at all. Though, if that was the case, where did he learn to wield a blade so well? Someone must have taught him the basics else he probably wouldn't have lived this long. It was apparent that this boy was beyond his own level of swordsmanship as it stood now, at least to Eric. The way he was utilizing his feet as weapons was unorthodox, but somehow he was able to balance keeping his footing while kicking and ensuring he didn't get his leg cut off in the process.

The word caught Eric by surprise. Why? The lord frowned, not entirely sure what the question was aimed at. He suddenly pulled back, steering his opponent's blade away from his body while taking a half-step forward. He drug his sword up the length of his opponent's blade and made a horizontal slash at his body, forcing a retreat as he gained the temporary upper-hand. He remained silent, but the question lingered on his face.

[Dao]

A close shave, but utterly nonlethal in the long run. As Dao too had taken the step backward in order to avoid falling forward, the opponent had just just been the slightest bit quicker than he had been. The sword careened through the air, slicing both wind and fabric as it travelled its course. The feroxi male furrowed his brows in frustration as he felt a slight ache crossing against his abdomen. It was just a scratch, a negligible line of red appearing over his stomach and staining his already dirtied clothes with even more of his blood.

Not enough. Something as shallow as that wasn't even worth problematising over. So the younger of the two swordsmen once more lunged forward, his own two half steps creating a massive feint where twice did his sword appear to come from either side before the Feroxi male evidently barrel rolled over to the side. He wouldn't have attempted such a roll if the opponent hadn't been completely focused on him, but seeing the confusion on Eric's face and coupled by his own manoeuvring was enough to give Dao that opening he needed.

Feet pushing himself forward, and a foot landing earlier than the other to twist him in place, the two fighter's positions had found themselves reversed. With Eric now nearer to the ledge and with Dao that much closer to the other rooftops. Raising his sword once more, in a counter effective stance this time around, the bandit's eyes narrowed in equal parts concentration and irritation.

"Answer!"

[Eric]

Well, this was certainly a twist of events. Not only did this boy want Eric to talk, which in all honesty was the impossible incarnate, but their positions had been literally reversed on the rooftop. Now Eric was the one on the far side after Dao's maneuvering. He took a glance behind him down at the street. Movement caught his eye and he looked back to Dao. It was apparent now more than ever their difference in skill. If it was to be a match of swordsmanship alone, and if his opponent had actually been taking this seriously, Eric was fairly certain he'd lose. As to what he was asking why about, the only thing he could think of was why he'd followed this boy up here to begin with, why he'd wanted to test his blade, about why he was doing all this.

"You need to ask? I'm sure you've felt it already." Eric replied, raising his sword again returning Dao's irritated gaze with his own dominating look, "I won't claim to understand you or to say I can imagine what you've been through to be able to wield a sword like that... but where words fall short, I will come to understand you in the next best way I know how, if not only to test my own skill." He started forward at first slowly before breaking into a run, "And in time..." he leaped into the air, his body flipping through the air as he built momentum, landing short of Dao and his blade missing his target entirely to stab into the roof. He wouldn't get to finish his thought. The weak section of the roof caved in, both Dao and Eric would feel the ground give way from under them as they crashed down.

[Dao]

Dao had almost forgotten that the opponent he was facing was a Nobleman. One who had been born with the riches thrown into his lap, and a life that was filled with doting and affection and everything Dao himself had lost on that tormenting day. Still, compared to the other men that the young Feroxi had faced against, had held his blade against and served under by orders of his surrogate father, the Lord's gaze no where near as commanding or as charismatic. From that, somewhere deep down, the bandit knew full well that his opponent still had quite a road ahead of him to become someone worth following.

And as the younger swordsman saw his opponent approach him with increasing speed, he found his foot sliding towards the side slightly before hopping backwards moments before the sword of his opponent crashed against the rooftop they had been on. A heartbeat, and Dao lunged forward to slam the butt of his sword's handle at the purple haired nobleman's temple. It not meant to be however as the footing had suddenly broken down. Everything that Dao felt then was apprehension, his hand latching out to anything near him that could be used to latch onto.

Vision was blocked by the sudden onslaught of dust and debris as the young man fell below. Fortunately however, Dao had managed to save himself via accidentally latching unto a bunch of chains that had been bundled together. His left hand caught in it and the sudden force made him grunt as the dull ache began to spread. Nothing was dislocated at least, but it certainly could have gone better. Pulling himself up slowly but surely, holding the handle of his sword still, the bandit hook a foot then to balance himself on the hanging links of steel.

Eyes scanned around the contents of the building and it seemed to be some kind of warehouse. Numerous crates lied around the place, stocks of whatever the hell those things were could easily be found. Due to the breaking of the rooftop however, some of those crates seemed to have been broken as perishable goods that had been dried with salt spilled over to the ground. With his position more or less figured out now, all Dao had to do next was to find an exit way and make sure that the annoying nobleman wouldn't be able to catch up to him---where ever that bastard was.

[Eric]

Eric sighed, looking up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. The first thing that came to mind was pain. His body ached from the fall, his right shoulder throbbed fiercely, had he bashed it against something? He sat up with a grunt, the noise echoing. Where was he? A warehouse? He looked under him at the stack of boxes that'd broken his fall. Had he drug the fight on for much longer it was possible he would have lost. Even if it wasn't the cleanest way to end a fight, it had been his best option at the time. He looked around. Gone. He wasn't under any debris was he..? Eric looked up at the ceiling again, swinging chains and a figure moving overhead.

"I wouldn't try leaving yet." Eric called up to him, leaning back on the boxes, not seeing any reason to move his aching limbs yet. "There are guards moving around outside." It was a last ditch effort, however Eric had managed at the very least to draw the match while setting up a situation where escape would be difficult for Dao.  It could have been a bluff, or his glance off the side of the building had told him guards had been notified and had headed in the direction the boys had run toward.  If Eric had seen them, it stood to reason they saw him.  Even so, Eric couldn't count this as a win by any means, he hadn't defeated his opponent through skill as much as set up a situation that could potentially end badly for him. It wasn't like these guards were so inept as to not see a boy climbing out a second story window in broad daylight and not find that suspicious. "More likely than not they're going to try to find a way up to the roof. If you wait here for a bit I can draw them away."

The offer was there as the purple-haired youth pulled himself to his feet with quite some effort. It wouldn't be hard to pull them away allowing the boy a path of escape. As a noble they would find his word irrefutable, and if they managed to not find him it was because they'd been given the slip. Eric dusted himself off with his left hand while his right arm was still, hanging at his side. He wasn't a physician, but he knew it was probably sprained or bruised, there was little chance it broke from that shallow a fall. He made his way over to his bronze sword which he sheathed awkwardly before looking casting a glance back up at the boy.  He turned and walked toward the doors closest to the main street, but he hesitated halfway.

"You might be thinking to yourself 'if there are guards outside, wouldn't it make more sense for him to be getting them rather than helping me'?  To that I say, what do you think?"

[Dao]

Though his initial assessment of his injuries were more or less correct, the feroxi male had definitely mistaken the amount of strain his arm had been put under then. From his shoulder down, or upwards in this case, the young man could feel a dull throbbing that began to get marginally worse. It wouldn't bother him as much after a bit of rest, but it certainly was making its self known in the most annoying way possible. Hooking his other leg around the chains to keep himself from falling while getting another foothold on his already precarious location, Dao roughly tore his arm away and freed it without much further adieu. Flexing his fingers, Dao reminded himself that pain was not his body telling him to stop.

It was simply a warning as to what was wrong.

Well, Dao certainly took that warning to heart yet continued on. Sheathing his sword now that he could hold unto the chain links better, the young man had more or less just half listened to whatever thing the Nobleman had been spouting. Injured as he was, he was still certain that he could cross the required distance. Just that, it wasn't exactly going to be the easiest thing to do nor was he looking forward to doing something like it. And the lordling was going to help him out? Fat chance of that happening. For all he knew, that guy was just bidding his time to get more of his men to surround the place. Furrowing his eyebrows as he began to sway the chains that were holding him up, Dao did admit that he'd fair better if he could get a moment to himself.

A moment, two, and it seemed that another question had been thrown his way.

"Prideful bastard, that's what you are."

Was his reply before the myrmidon successfully latched his legs on the walk way's railing available on the second floor. Pulling himself to it with the chain before tying it loosely in the off chance that he'd need it again, Dao began then to pull the hood up over his head and began to walk on over to the shadows. His breathing slowed, his heart beat slowly returning to normal, and his focus shifting from getting his sword through the nobleman's guts into making sure a sword didn't go through his stomach, Dao then attempted to erase more of his presence.

He didn't need the other guy's help.

He wasn't going to admit anything else about that topic either.

[Eric]

Eric ignored the last comment, or at least didn't respond. It wasn't worth getting into a debate they didn't have time for. He'd more or less just anticipated a probable thought that may have crossed this boy's mind, if it hadn't then he was trusting to the point of stupidity-- something Eric sensed wasn't the case. Whether his former opponent wanted Eric's help or not wasn't a question. He was getting it regardless. Eric could sense this boy wasn't a bad person, if not a little misguided. He exited the building only to be stopped by the guards he'd seen from the roof.

"You, you're-- where did the other boy go?" One of the guards demanded. Eric looked at him, grabbing his banged up arm with his empty hand and shook his head after a moment of thinking.

"I don't know, we were fighting... the roof gave out from under me and I fell. After that I lost vision of him. He's probably using the roofs to escape."

The guard nodded and gave an order to a small group of guards that arrived during Eric's explanation. They promptly ran off following the line of buildings. He knew they wouldn't just keep chasing for too much longer, eventually they'd give up. Well, that was the most he could do-- from here on it was up to his mysterious friend to get out. The guard kept grilling him with questions for a while longer before thanking Eric for his cooperation. The captain saw Eric off, ensuring his wounds weren't serious. His body would easily heal over the next few days from this on its own. He made his way, slowly back to the pet shop where all this had begun. The shopkeeper immediately expressed his gratitude, thanking Eric profusely for his help, though no sign of recompense for his troubles seemed likely. Figured. This, however, proved exactly why he thought friends took too much energy-- he went out of his way to get a random person a present and it turned into a heist, a chase, a roof top fight, a sprained shoulder, battered body, and exhausted his sense of adventure for the rest of the day.

Perhaps now he'd be able to sit inside and read a good book or something.

[Dao]

The young man kept quiet. Foot falls as quiet as his breathing as he moved through the alleyways just long enough until he could find a sizeable crowd. The conversation from before had led the guards to believe that their intruder would be using the rooftops for a notable amount of time before going down to the alleys. Staying out of sight, trying to be sneaky, that's the kind of person they'd be looking for. There hadn't been any conversations concerning his face from what he had managed to hear and the next best thing he could really do now was to blend in. Biting his tongue back as he found himself in a group of town goers who were beginning to split up, Dao refrained from trying to act as he normally did.

Black hair free and consciously making sure that his eyebrows weren't slanted like they usually were, the Feroxi bandit eventually caught unto a pattern and had continued to make his way towards one of the major streets that this place had. A long stretch of a road and directly linked to the opposite ends of the entire living area. Numerous smaller streets intersected with them in a pseudo-grid like pattern and it was on one of them that Dao had managed to find some rundown rat hole of a pub. The place looked like it'd take in anyone except for the ones that looked like they had respect to authority of any kind.

Immediately, the Feroxi bandit had made for it. Half way through to it though, the young male scratched at the shallow line that traced across his stomach. It wouldn't even scar, but blood had been definitely drawn. Looking back towards the major street of the town, Dao clenched his fist. Barely, Dao had ever done it but this time, that Nobleman deserved as much. The next time they drew swords, the bandit would make it personal.