Categories > Original > Fantasy > Warehito-e
われひとへ
warehitoe
toward myself
and others
You decided to help him, even though it was recklessness on your part. Quickly drawing the dagger from its impromptu sheath (you lost its sheath some time ago), you came a step short of him and asked softly, "Need any help?"
With his kukri in a defensive position, he spared a glance at you with a deep brown eye. "Know how to use that?"
It was probably at that moment that you realized you really didn't have any combat experience, and since a bluff would not be useful in this situation… "Not really."
"Then hold this and stay behind me, "he stated as he tossed you the sack. Fumbling, you managed to grab it, however, it felt awkward as you held it against your chest with the dagger still in your dominant hand.
City thugs must require their ilk to be innately slow-witted since any chance the three had had to snatch the goods was already lost at that point, and any possibility of success was also lost once the boy drew a second kukri.
"He's just a kid, a speedy little kid," the leader, you supposed, stepped forward with his short sword and prepared to strike.
To you, you would have thought that the man was pretty quick and skilled with his weapon, but once you saw the blonde boy put his curved, hacking blades to work, you saw the difference in skill. He used one kukri to immobilize the sword high and his other to hack horizontally into the midsection. If the wound were deep, it probably would be fatal.
The other two screamed in fury and charged–all sense of tactics lost. They must have been under the belief that he would lose if attacked by two at once. You, on the other hand, took numerous paces away from the fighting bunch.
It was the perfect opportunity for you to just run away. The boy was distracted, and you had the sack (which was a bit weighty and bulbous), but, even though you were desperate, that wouldn't be fair.
He sidestepped the first sword's downward arc, and, through the opening, nicked the man painfully in the side. Before the hurt man could retaliate, he moved closer to the other thug who was in the process of a forward slice.
It went well over his head, and the thug was promptly stabbed in the abdomen.
"I think your boss-guy is dying or dead, but you two will probably be A-OK. Still want me to hand your asses to you?"
They said not a word but opted to glare proverbial daggers. Together, the injured men decided to make their disgraceful retreat with the better off one supporting the greater wounded one.
The aforementioned dying or dead man was left behind.
"Thanks for the help," he turned to you. "I fight best with both of my weapons, so if I had to hold my potatoes, it would have been a lot more difficult. I'm Methuselah!"
They were fighting over… potatoes.
Methuselah began to ransack the brigand on the ground. "He's dead, as I thought. The sword probably would fetch a better price in better times, but beggars can't be choosers." He found something in a pocket. "Oh look! Five seolfor!"
The common currency of most kingdoms on the continent consisted of cuprum, seolfor, and geolu–with cuprum the smallest value and geolu the largest.
"I'm surprised he had that much on him. Oh and my name is…"
You were barely able to tell Methuselah your name when the shouts of patrols reached your ears.
"We need to go!" he shouted.
Will you go with him?
Or will you run away?
warehitoe
toward myself
and others
You decided to help him, even though it was recklessness on your part. Quickly drawing the dagger from its impromptu sheath (you lost its sheath some time ago), you came a step short of him and asked softly, "Need any help?"
With his kukri in a defensive position, he spared a glance at you with a deep brown eye. "Know how to use that?"
It was probably at that moment that you realized you really didn't have any combat experience, and since a bluff would not be useful in this situation… "Not really."
"Then hold this and stay behind me, "he stated as he tossed you the sack. Fumbling, you managed to grab it, however, it felt awkward as you held it against your chest with the dagger still in your dominant hand.
City thugs must require their ilk to be innately slow-witted since any chance the three had had to snatch the goods was already lost at that point, and any possibility of success was also lost once the boy drew a second kukri.
"He's just a kid, a speedy little kid," the leader, you supposed, stepped forward with his short sword and prepared to strike.
To you, you would have thought that the man was pretty quick and skilled with his weapon, but once you saw the blonde boy put his curved, hacking blades to work, you saw the difference in skill. He used one kukri to immobilize the sword high and his other to hack horizontally into the midsection. If the wound were deep, it probably would be fatal.
The other two screamed in fury and charged–all sense of tactics lost. They must have been under the belief that he would lose if attacked by two at once. You, on the other hand, took numerous paces away from the fighting bunch.
It was the perfect opportunity for you to just run away. The boy was distracted, and you had the sack (which was a bit weighty and bulbous), but, even though you were desperate, that wouldn't be fair.
He sidestepped the first sword's downward arc, and, through the opening, nicked the man painfully in the side. Before the hurt man could retaliate, he moved closer to the other thug who was in the process of a forward slice.
It went well over his head, and the thug was promptly stabbed in the abdomen.
"I think your boss-guy is dying or dead, but you two will probably be A-OK. Still want me to hand your asses to you?"
They said not a word but opted to glare proverbial daggers. Together, the injured men decided to make their disgraceful retreat with the better off one supporting the greater wounded one.
The aforementioned dying or dead man was left behind.
"Thanks for the help," he turned to you. "I fight best with both of my weapons, so if I had to hold my potatoes, it would have been a lot more difficult. I'm Methuselah!"
They were fighting over… potatoes.
Methuselah began to ransack the brigand on the ground. "He's dead, as I thought. The sword probably would fetch a better price in better times, but beggars can't be choosers." He found something in a pocket. "Oh look! Five seolfor!"
The common currency of most kingdoms on the continent consisted of cuprum, seolfor, and geolu–with cuprum the smallest value and geolu the largest.
"I'm surprised he had that much on him. Oh and my name is…"
You were barely able to tell Methuselah your name when the shouts of patrols reached your ears.
"We need to go!" he shouted.
Will you go with him?
Or will you run away?
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