The Dark Drifter (IC)

Kailee lagged slightly behind, she wasn't particularly fond of men, particularly the 'adventurey' type that many of these appeared to be. It was however, a way for her to get to her destination without having to face some other would-be bandits that she had run into before finding the men. The voice of the eldest Scarlet Light Sister played in her mind, "Never trust a man that cannot see the way of the Scarlet Light." As much as she loved her sisters, their words hadn't always rung true. She watched the shadows play as they walked, speckled light through trees, reflecting from the armour of those with her. The quiet voices surrounded her, some urging her to hurry, to leave the company and travel alone, that she would be safe enough with her skills. Some warned her to turn and flee back to her sisters.

Kai sighed, wishing for a moment she could tune them out, but knowing she would miss them if she ever found a way to. A warmth radiated through her body and her hair flicked before her face, she recognised the greeting as one of those she spoke with regularly, one that she trusted and even enjoyed the company of. It was a young man, he appeared to be a knight from centuries past, the intricate detailing on the armour that covered his body, he had introduced himself years ago to her, calling himself Michael. The sisters had said he was one of the greater angels, perhaps he was for her, a guardian.

'I see you have found yourself some company. Soon you'll hardly be needing my assistance!' Kai simply pulled a face at him and rolled her eyes to which he laughed. 'It's okay, I know you enjoy my presence. I still don't know why you're trusting the sisters that you'll be safe in such a place. If these rumours of demons are true then aren't they sending their greatest gift to die? Okay I get it, relax, you don't need to start arguing with me, I'm sure they mean well.' Michael made to move ahead then turned and raised an eyebrow and shrugged. 'Be wary of the Dunmyr, Kai. I'm not sure even these people can handle groups of them. They've been killing travelers and even caravans. They may leave you be however, since you are... Different.'

And with that Michael left. Kailee wasn't entirely sure what to make of his strangely brief and puzzling visit. She wasn't sure either, whether to speak up about what she had heard when she saw an old woman beside the road, holding something close to her chest and crying. "Dunmyr." Was all she decided to relay. It was after all, nothing to do with her.

Nathanial was the farthest away from the group, making sure that they hadn't even noticed he was missing with his silenced footsteps. He took his rightful place on a sturdy tree branch, his throwing knives glimmering in the harsh sunlight. Granted, the day was not the best time for stealth kills, but he wanted to make sure that the coast was clear so that the rest of the group could pass safely. "Come on... Where are you ingrates?" Nathanial peered around, before noticing two Dunmyr conversing with eachother with a pile of corpses that seemed to be harlots and minstrels before they were brutally murdered.
"Well, at least I wont have to hear any annoying songs while I make a kill..." Nathanial lightly chuckled as he drew one of his throwing knives and took a steady aim towards one of the Dunmyr, before letting the sleek knife glide off his fingertips.

---

"...That would of been the greatest prey we have had all week, so slow, no way of defending themselves... Shame about some of those harlots..." The Dunmyr with battle scars over his chest said to the other, unaware of the throwing knife embedded in the tree just a few short feet away from him.
"Indeed, it really was the greatest kill we have had in a while..."

---

"Damn... Missed him... I guess one more attempt should do the trick." Nathanial inhaled slowly and exhaled just as slow as he inhaled, before letting another knife glide from his fingertips, silently cursing as it embedded in the same tree just a little more to the right.
"FUCK! Well, I guess one more attempt wouldn't hurt..." Nathanial didn't even bother to take aim this time as the knife flew out of his fingertips, jamming into the heavily scarred Dunmyr's temple. The remaining Dunmyr began looking around for the killer of his ally, peering over to the branch where Nathanial hid, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"One of the stronger Dunmyr has been taken out... It may have taken me a while, but I finally got him. His ally is still looking for the killer, we should all be able to take care of him." Nathanial whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear as he found himself back in the middle of the group.

Clerin Vice was not an intimidating man, without a chess board set in front of him. He was thin, uncoordinated, and rather embarrasingly out of style for most occasions. For his travels, he was currently wearing a cloak that was far too warm, sandals which were far too uncomfortable for long walking, and a backpack full of what could easily be mistaken for rubbish.

He did, however, know a great deal about the Dunmyr, and that would be the reason that nobody should ever make the mistake of underestimating him. He knew, beyond doubt, about anything you could ever ask. He motioned to the knight towards the back of the Dunmyr target, not particularly caring who he took with him or how long he took. Clerin, meanwhile, moved around to approach the remaining Dunmyr from the side, at an easily visible angle but not directly from the front. It was the angle most often referenced in peaceful confrontations with Dunmyr on the road. Most people didn't know the reasoning behind it, but he had spent time in a Dunmyr camp for a while, and it was respectful to approach visibly, but aggressive to come at them head on.

"Excuse me, Larger..." He approached, speaking in the lazy tongue of the local Dunmyr clans, "I have need of food. I can trade a strong knife, and a measure of water?" His request, blunt and without workaround, provided a very direct train of thought. The deal was either good, or bad. If it was bad, the answer was no and may lead to a fight. He went high, metal knives being a great deal more expensive than food, to get a more peaceful response.

"What food?" The negotiations phase would be long, haggling for greater quantities, but of course it would never get that far. By now someone was already in place, waiting for the chance to take the uncautious Dunmyr down. Clerin smiled, lips pressed together to avoid showing teeth, and proceeded to occupy his opponent's remaining time.

Taig watched Clerin as he signaled for him to charge the Dunmyr behind; always eager to fight and the kind of person who hacked off heads and asked questions later, ferociously charged the rear of the Dunmyr group without any immediate thought of Clerin's safety if the Dunmyr he was trading with would decide to attack Clerin.

As the Dunmyr whom had been tempted by Clerin's offer of trade, walked over to Clerin with very little hostility and said "Lets see the knife...". Taig charged the group plainly shouting "MOTHER FUCKERS!", Taig crashed his two handed sword into the helmeted head of one of the Dunmyr; the lightning fast and incredibly powerful sword blow sliced through the iron helm and cut the Dunmyr thug's head in two; Taig reset his sword back into a guard.

The other Dunmyr stepped back in panic and confusion; then quickly getting their bearings back and counter charging Taig. One of the Dunmyr swinging a mace at Taig; the young Caelic warrior blocking the blow with his sword by turning his upper body and using the edge of his swords blade to knock away the Mace blow by striking it's shaft. The Dunmyr stumbled to the right following the direction of his mace; with his weapon arm extended to his right, the Dunmyr was vulnerable.

With that Taig screamed like a raging berserker; making one viciously fast and powerful diagonal slash to the Dunmyr's chest. The blow easily cutting through the studded leather and almost slicing the Dunmyr in half; blood sprayed everywhere and came gushing out of the swords exit from the body. Saturating the ground in the red blood of a Dunmyr; however Taig unaware that a particularly sneaky third Dunmyr was about to crack him over the back of the head with a spiked club...

"Look out!" Clerin pointed at his friend as if concerned more for the Dunmyr than the berserker warrior. Naturally, the idiot turned around and was shortly introduced to the knife in question. It slid easily into his neck, a small joint in the armor providing access to quickly disable all control the Dunmyr had over his body. Clerin took off back to the group - he could do no more good here and only risked injury to himself. It wasn't a lack of concern, or cowardice, in his eyes... Merely an acceptance of his limits.

Kai sat away from the scuffle taking place, she had after all, nothing to do with it. Instead she conversed quietly with the Minstrels that had been slain only recently. None of which were prepared to accept they were dead, and it was always these ones that were annoying to convince or at least get rid of. She leaned against the tree, legs stretched out before her, crossed at the ankle. Her red hair fell to one side as her eyes settled on one of the particularly aggressive Minstrels who quietened instantly.

"Your bodies are just over there if you care to see them, prove to yourself that you're really dead. I'm sorry but you were slaughtered by Dunmyr." She saw as one of the men returned to the path that she sat near, wondering if he were injured, since that would be the only reason to get involved. Kai had simple rules.

One: Don't get involved in something that doesn't involve you.
Two: Don't take sides, treat injured as injured.
And these two rules had been her code all along, so if any of her travelling party were injured, she would treat them. If the Dunmyr were injured, she would treat them. It made no real difference to her, an injured person was injured and in need of treatment one way or another and she would help to her best ability.