Running for her life. Kaylin ran a corner and began panting. She was being chased by 4 large thugs that had seen her performing in the town's square and thought she would be easy prey to get laid.

Looking for somewhere to go. Kaylin saw a small opening in the wall and moved over to it. Squeezing through almost getting stuck. As Kaylin was almost through she felt a tug and was being pulled back through the hole.

"Ugh, Let me go! I said NO! I don't do that kind of thing." Kaylin cried out. Her leg getting scratched by the ruff wood. and was beginning to bleed. Kaylin started kicking at her attacker's hands. When they had finally let go she got up and ran. Leaving a trail of blood.

Kaylin stopped at a nearby corner and ripped apart of her sash and bandaged her wound. Looking for a place to escape to. She saw a small alcove and ran into it. Pinning her body tightly against the wall while the thugs went by. A sigh of relief escaped Kaylin's mouth and she slipped down to the hard ground. Looking over her new wound on her leg better.

"Oh man this looks bad." She said as she began to take out the large splinter's out of the wound.

*the thug's persuit had ended. The four thugs began walking back out from their chase feeling dissapointed and just as rowdy. Stepping back out into the streets, the four men are confronted by a large man staring down at them.*

"Ey! what are you doin' standin' here like a..."

*before the thug could finish Edmund had already planted his knuckles into his face. He fell to the ground cringing with a broken nose. The second two charged forward at Edmund. Each threw a punch at the passerby, the first was intercepted, followed by a knee strike that took the wind out of the thug. The second thug's punch landed on Edmund's face. Feeling confident for a moment the thug stood back proudly. a trickle of blood marked Edmund's face. With a grunt of rage Edmund advanced, first kicking the thug into the chest, the impact knocking the thug backwards. From that Edmund swung viciously with a closed fist at the thug's face, sending him to the ground with a broken cheekbone. The fourth thug stood petrified*

"When you're friends can walk again, remind them never to touch that girl again!" Edmund exclaimed warningly.
Contempt with the message portrayal, Edmund turned his back from the bloody mess of bodies and walked away. All the while the fourth thug remained stunned in fear.

Bishop was on a patrol mission, walking through the town, seeing if any scum were doing there work on others. When he spotted a pool of blood, along with 4 suspicious thugs knocked out in the middle of the pool. As he walked over and looked at the bodies up close, one came to, and saw (with his dizzy like image) a knight like image, the first thing that came to mind was the guy who knocked him out and his mates out. He fiercely took out a dagger, and threw it right at Bishop's head.

Bishop watched it touch his face, making a diagonal cut on his cheek. Bishop grabbed the knife in the air, and kept the thug's head down so he wouldn't try to get up. "Nice try. Now what the hell happened here?" *in a muffled voice* "Get your damn foot off my head!" "Not till you tell me what happened here." "We were just having fun with a dancer until some knight with these knuckles fought me and my buds!" Bishop began to think of Edmund, because earlier that day, Edmund decided to try out knuckles for weapons. "Well, I am just going to have to put you guys in prison, for doing that type of thing to a woman." Bishop used a sharp whistle, and in a short minute, 5 men, dressed in chain mail came running in. "What are the charges?" One guard said. "Violating a woman, take them away." And just with that, the guards took the thugs away, and Bishop put away the dagger into his pouch.

Bishop then tried to look for the woman who was violated, and then saw Edmund in the distance. Bishop started to run over to talk to him.

OOC: Just thought I'd put in a little bit of Daryle's past whilst I wait for everyone to post, just for those who might be intrested.

‘Company will advance by the Right.’

The line of spears surged forward like a grinding, churning machine of men and metal. Daryle watched them go from were he stood in his own line, shoulder to shoulder with the men opposite him. Thier commander clearly didn’t want to waste money on the arrows and was sending both companies of pikemen to the center of the field to try and flush out the skirmishers which have been picking off the Heavy’s Horses.

‘One bloody volley would do the trick just as well.’ Muttered Daryle’s seargent, a grizzled veteran at the age of twenty one among the archer’s half company.

The company standard waved proudly, the yellow field with a green dragon in the center grasping a horse and rider in it’s claws. The King’s own Dragon Lancers rode in three staggered lines behind the advancing pikemen. Once the Pikemen flushed out the skirmishers and made the enemy crossbowmen take new positions, the line of spears would split down the center and those lancers on thier huge destriers would thrust down the middle like the lances they wielded and split the enemy in two. Daryle had seen it happen before. It was a glorious sight to behold, and then the promise of loot as his half company would join in the fray.

He stood boredly as he watched the pikemen absorbe a volley of bolts, waiting for his chance to fight. They halted, raised thier shields then advanced again. Two men lay dead and were left screaming on the field. The skirmishers fled to rejoin thier lines and another volley ravaged the pikemen line, but again, they halted then left thier dead and wounded to die and advanced again.

The trumpet sounded to signal the chavalry charge and then everything went wrong. The horses stumbled and fell as they encountered hidden horse traps and the second wave, already spured to a trot had to halt and find away around. As thier horses wheeled, the Crossbowmen who had known of the trap and had not fled in panic unleashed a killing volley at point blank range. The field was a carnage of dying horses and knights trapped beneath them, and the third wave coud not advance through the slaughter.

‘Company, will advance fifty paces!’ Calls Daryle’s seargent and he marches forward. Undoubtably, they will fire volleys to cover the retreat of the Heavys and the Pikemen while they reform to charge again. ‘Company halt!’ Daryle halts as a hundred left boots crash down in unison.

‘Sir! Enemy horse!’ A private yells in panic and Daryle looks to the left and sees them comming on at a gallop with no heed of formations, just fifty unarmored horsemen charging at full speed right towards them. But the officer isn’t reacting.

We should be inclining left and firing volleys into them, those are light horse, they’ll be slaughtered, Daryle thinks, but the order doesn’t come.

‘Orders Sah?!’ Asks the seargent of the officer, a meer lieutenant who is only seventeen, the same age as Daryle. He’s staring dumbly at the charging chavalry.

‘Break and run for the lines, every man for himself!’ The officer screams in terror, then spurs his horse away, and now it’s too late even to try and form a square. The horses charge home at the side of a long line and there’s nothing to do now but run, but run where? Daryle looks around, he’s a hundred paces from the woods which were precisely what they were supposed to be guarding. They’d been put here to stop the enemy sneaking into the woods and turning thier flank which is exactly what had happened because of some dandy on a horse pissing himself.

Daryle would have wheeled, he’d have fought them. He’d have won and he’d have taken the gold from the officer’s purse. ‘Bugger this.’ He says and hastilly pulls off his yellow tunic with the green dragon and runs for the forest taking only his bow, arrows and falchion.

After Kaylin had finished properly bandaging her wounded leg. She heard a ruckus out in the street. Getting up and walking towards the end of the ally. Hobbling as she went. She saw the 4 men, that had tied to hurt and rape her, being taken away by soldiers.

She saw that a knight was talking to a bystander and another was moving towards him. Kaylin saw the Crest of the man who killed her father and the rest of her family and got mad. She bolted and ran into the one who was conversing and stole his money pouch.

Kaylin then ran and turned a corner. Hoping that he wouldn't notice. She hated stealing... but if it meant getting back at Kanroth. She'd do it. She rounded a corner and hide behind a barrel. Her leg throbbing from the run. "Oh, Ow! Man my leg hurts. I really should find a place to stay the night. I can't perform here now that I've stolen from the new kings guard." Kaylin spit to the side just saying that made her disgusted.

Kaylin looked from behind the barrel and saw that the area was clear for her to get away. She bolted down another alley and started walking half way through. Her leg going numb.

Daryle was tired, he was hungry, he hadn’t had a drink in a month nor seen the inside of a whore house in twice as long. To put it lightly, he was in a bad mood. On the run since he had deserted the army of his homeland two years ago, he had made his way through the woods and over a mountain relying only on his fits and his bowmanship. Hunting the Deer of the squires who’s lands he crossed over with impunity, stealing the crops from the fields and the fruit from the orchards, he’d survived alone for two years.

If Daryle had a Moto, assuming of course he could speak Latin and knew what a moto was, it would be ‘Walk softly, and Carry a longbow.’

There were those, he knew, that would see his life end at the end of a rope, and those people lived in cities, but there were things in cities that he couldn’t steal or make himself in the wilderness. Women and alcohol. Both could be bought, but both needed money for that, and with that in mind, he approached the first town, equipped with his longbow and his flachion. He approaches at night and moves unseen past the drowsing sentry who doubtless would have asked him for some papers which he didn’t have and turned him away.

‘Now to make a bit ‘o coin.’ He says to himself. He’s got pelts in his bag that he can sell at market, but not until the next morning, and he hasn’t slept in a bed, let alone with a woman in months.

He witnesses a scuffle between four men and one increadible fist fighter who quickly lays them out one by one, says something then leaves them alone. Daryle, ever the soldier at heart, sees an opportunity to make some plunder and inches towards them in the darkness, drawing his falchion, a wickedly notched sword, with a wire basket grip and a blade like a machette. This is a soldiers weapon, meant to cut, not thrust but unlike a long sword, it’s light wieght and works just as well for hacking through the underbrush or butchering a dead horse as it does for hacking limbs or sliting throats.

A guard approaches the unconcious men and Daryle hides again, waits for yet another conversation between the two, rolls his eyes slightly at the measured tone of the knight’s voice, then despairs at the sound of a whistle and sees his loot being taken away to the jail.

He’s about to give up on the nights plundering and to go find an alley to sleep in where he won’t have his throat slit, when an attractive and scantilly clad woman leaps out of the shadows, grabs a coin purse off one of the guards then runs off again.

‘Why ‘allo there miss. Where’ve you been all me life.’ Daryle says, sheathing his sword and climbs up a drain pipe to give chase from the roof tops unseen. He watches her dodge pursuit and hide for a moment in an alley until the guards pass. Daryle is about to hop down to confront her when suddenly, she’s off again.

‘Ain’t got a half bad set of lungs on her, I’ll give the lass that much.’ Thinks Daryle as he gives chase again.

The guards took the thugs around the corner into a small alley. When they were about halfway through the alley, one of the guards stopped. He drew his sword and plunged it into the heart of the guard next to him.

"What the....!" exclaimed another guard in sheer surprise as his throat was cut.

The other two guards reacted faster. They both had their swords out.
"Damon, have you gone insane?" asked one of the guards. The three unconscious thugs had been dropped to the floor, and the one that was conscious just stared in horror.

The guard they had called Damon suddenly changed. His face was a mirror image of the guard whose throat had just been cut, and now lay dead, not two paces away.

"It's him!" one of the guards gasped. The impostor slashed at him and he managed to parry the first blow, but a second slash severed his head.

The final guard dropped his sword

"May the gods have mercy on us..." he whispered, as he was stabbed in the chest.

The guard changed again, into an old man in a red cloak, with a gnarled oak staff. He swung the staff at the thug that was still standing. He dropped to the floor unconscious as it connected with his head. The old man then grabbed a sword and cut four holes in each dead guard's chest. He took the unconscious thugs and placed their heads in the holes, which were full of blood. The thugs began to spasm as they suffocated. Finally, the last one gave a kick and then lay still. The old man turned and walked down the alley, limping slightly as he went.....

As Kaylin's rounded many corners and soon got lost. She began to get flustered and her leg was getting worse. She had to find somewhere to stay and fast. It was nearly sunset and she knew the really troubling men would be out soon.

As Kaylin thought about this. One of those exact men had seen her and smirked. Coming from behind he called out to her. "Hey sweet stuff. What's the rush? Come here and I'll show you a good time." The man said as he hoisted his pants up walking towards Kaylin.

Grasping her necklace. Kaylin ran and the man followed. Back tracking and going down much darker alleyways, Kaylin was running out of breath. The last chase and running away from the Knight that she had stolen his money pouch from, had taken it's toll. The man caught up with her and grabbed her.

Instinctively, Kaylin unsheathed on of her hidden daggers and slashed at the man's face. Hitting him on the cheek. The man let go and held his face in pain. Kaylin ran from him and turned the nearby corner.

Running into and hitting what looked like an old man. Falling backwards and having her dagger fly away from her hand. Kaylin looked at the man and then at the corner where the guy that had attacked her was. He yelled "You little B***H! That hurt. If that leaves a mark? You're gonna pay for that!"

The man that she had slashed at, advanced towards her. Kaylin, forgetting the the old man was there, scudded over the ground backwards trying to get away. Her leg was worse off than before and bleeding. The necklace given to her by her dying mother, a Deep red Bloodstone, fell out from behind her shawl. Making it completely visible. The stone's color changing from it's reddish hue to a blackish color.

((What the Bloodstone pendant looks like.
Normal reddish Hue: http://img476.imageshack.us/img476/5017/bloods469ma.gif
Turns Blackish: http://img466.imageshack.us/img466/2605/bloods422ok.gif ))

This nights loot was fast approaching some serious effort. Chasing the girl from the rooftops was difficult for she was keeping a swift pace, even with the injured leg. It took all of Daryle’s skill and agility to keep up with her.

‘Bloody hell fire but the lass can’t half put a man to work.’

The girl approaches a square and Daryle fears he might loose her among, but she is harrased again. She slashes at her harraser with a hidden knife ‘This girlie’s just full ‘o surprises’ then takes off down yet another alley way, the man in pursuit.

She runs head long into a red clothed figure and Daryle can see that she is cornered. His soldiers instincts take over. He has the high ground and he has the element of surprise, and he knows for a certain fact there wasn’t a faster shot in the King’s army.

‘Me ma told me I was the scum of the earth...’ He says his battle littany quietly to himself as he unhooks his yew bow from his back, leans down hard to string it. ‘...Told me I’d never amount to anything in this life or the next...’ He takes a fistfull of arrows from his quiver and sticks them point first into the tatched roof. ‘And it does a boy no good to argue with his ma...’ He plucks an arrow and draws it back, aiming for a point on the ground between the girl and the man in red. ‘So I got nothin’ to loose.’ He smiles as he lets fly the shot which ricochettes nicely off the cobles with an obvious clatter.

‘Right then, let’s be leaving the nice miss alone then shall we?’ He calls and he’s already plucked the next arrow in the bow and has it aimed squarely at the head of the man that had been chasing the girl.

"Now I'm gonna get nasty!" The man hissed at Kaylin in both an angered and erotic way. In a sudden and desperate rage the man grabbed a firm hold of the now black necklace. he began pulling at it furiously, a cry of helplessness sounded from Kaylin. She looked up into his face, an evil smirk was beginning to grow on his face, but the man's assault was interrupted by an arrow from above, which landed in a small gap between the two then ricochettes.

The startled man steps back in fear, then begins to scan the roof frantically. Finding nothing he begins to panic, then turns away to find an escape among the crowd, but before he can a strong hand pushes him back. He tumbles back to the ground, then the owner of the hand reveals himself from the crowd.

"And just where do you think you're going in such a rush?" Edmund asks inquisitively to the man, as he stepped forward to tower over him. The scared man does nothing but sits petrified.

Edmund looks away from the scared little man and glances about "Arrows?" he looks back into the crowd to a figure who appeared to be his companion "Hey Bishop, I think we're a little late, someone has beat us to her rescue!" he shouted to him.

Edmund looked back to see the girl still remaining where she stood. "I apologize for the late timing. Infact, If it weren't for my buddy Bishop, I wouldnt've even noticed your situation."
Bishop smiled and waved at the hearing of his name.
"To repent for our error, allow us to apprehend this man and treat any harm that may have come to you"

While their guard was down the man snapped himself from Edmund's hold and backed away from the group

"You soldiers don't scare me!" with that the man pulled out a middle sized knife from an unknown hiding place "I'll take you both on"

instantly Edmund and Bishop turned and nodded to each other, then looking straight back to the armed man

"I left my sword at home today, would you mind taking this one for me friend?"

Daryle’s natural stealth must be working over time, because even after calling out, the man in the alley couldn’t seem to locate him. Daryle draws another arrow back to his ear ready to loose it, should the man make any sudden moves, but the man runs off back down the alley the way he came.

‘And now for the prize’ Says Daryle, collecting up his arrows and placing his Bow crosswise across his chest to free up his both hands so that with a careless ease he slides down the nearest drain pipe to street level.

‘Oi! Miss!’ He calls to the woman in a harsh whisper. He notices the man has run into a couple of authoritative looking men at the end of the alley and has pulled out a knife on one of them. ‘Quick Lass, we’ve gotta get you out of this mess. Up the drain pipe where the gentry and thier horses can’t follow. Step quick now!’ Daryle holds his hand out to the girl waiting for her to take it.

Bishop is in a crossroad here, should he take care of the "hero"? Even heroes can't be trustworthy. Or should deal with the pervert of a man standing five feet away from him?

Making up his mind, He takes out his sword, and points it at the "hero". " Oy, where do you think you are going with that girl? I'd stay up there if I were you. Ey, Ed, take care of the 'hero' over there, I am going see this thug over here has an encounter with the ground. Here, take my sword and guard the girl from him."

Bishop at the time thought this was a great plan! Two birds with one stone, however, bishop himself didn't have the stone..Bishop having a good mind, thought of a way to apprehend the pervert. "Now now thug, if you don't surrender, you aren't going to feel very good after you wake up." The thug, having second thoughts, threw his dagger to the side, and kneeled before Bishop.

Bishop nodded his head to the guards nearby, and they took the thug away. Now...to deal with the hero...