The Sixth

The Sixth

Bladedancer
Character Profile
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Blade kissed skin as Dancer danced back from an otherwise disemboweling strike. Dagger shot out from his offhand and caught the bastard in the throat. Shortblade tore through flesh as the mercenary pivoted towards his next opponent. Ajenwi blade in hand he dispatched the next attacker with little fare. Another body dropped yet two replaced them.

The mercenary did not relent even though his breaths grew ragged and his arms heavy. Steel found purchase again and again before the bliss of inaction found them.

Cries of the wounded echoed in desperation. A pity but not his problem, he wasn't a mender and had no mind to be.

"Thirteen dead, twice as many wounded," came the gruff voice at the mercenary's side. The Sixth nodded before dismissing the other man with the wave of a hand. Numbers had been good, better than good if he was honest. May have had something to do with the horned-bastard that was about twice his height.

Dancer made casual strides until he found himself before the Deva who dwarfed him. "Been awhile since I've seen an unaffiliated put in a proper shift." The Sixth leveled his gaze on the other's orange eyes. "So where you from? Not many with your sk-you're a tall fucking bastard is what I'm getting at." He paused as he ran a grimy hand through his mottled-black hair. "Don't mean anything by it, just like to know who I'm working with."
 
Blood spattered like rage art across stone and dirt alike. With a flick of his left hand, he parted two bodies from neck to hip with ease. The custom greatsword hummed through the air parting another head from its shoulders. With his right, he uppercut with his bladed round shield through cartilage and bone. Pivoting on his left leg he weaved between knots of enemies cutting them down three at a time if not more. In his wake, there was a bloody mist from the savagery of his blade work.

Moving ahead of the group he halfway kept an eye on the leader of this band. Otherwise known as the Sixth, Mathis was extremely excited to see the way his blades worked. The diversity and fluidity of Sixth motions had lit a fire in his soul.

Peace had finally come to this section of the city. "Too many greenhorns make heavy work." Grinning broadly his canines flashed beneath the dripping blood. setting the greatsword against his back he saluted the Sixth.
"I'm a recent resident of the Free Cities. No offense taken.. It's rather nice to get some work done right. Happy I am no knitter of bones." Chuckling lightly Mathis rolled his shoulders slowly, a sharp burning pain radiated where a bolt had found purchase.

"Pardon my poor manners. I am Mathis.."
 
"True enough, but at least some seem worth their salt," the mercenary admitted begrudgingly. "They'll see tomorrow at least." Not much else you could ask for in this business. 'Course they weren't exactly sellswords, rather the most recent additions to the city's guard. Calling Tillmont a city was being generous if the mercenary was being honest. Even more amusing was the fact it was ruled by a prince. The Sixth didn't care much so long as the man paid like a prince, and he did. Tillmont had a pretty serious blood feud with their sister city across the way. You know, the sort where they tried to wipe each other off the map every two decades.

Real damned stupid if you asked the Sixth, but made for good business. This was all to say that the guard had its share of hardhands but they were stationed where the work was nastiest. So it became something of tradition to hire seasoned mercenaries to break the greenhorns in.

"Seems you got yourself a bit of a nick there," pointed the mercenary at the arrow wound. "Got a few scrapes myself. We've bought ourselves some time, we bloodied those bastards real good. Best to see to these things while we can." He motioned for the Deva to follow him back towards the center of Tillmont. "Ah, most people just call me the Sixth. Get called a few other things but they aren't very nice. So what brings you to these parts? Just looking to make some coin?"
 
Six wasn't wrong, some had been worth their salt and survived the assault. Others were not so lucky, but that was life itself. A gamble without the promise of tomorrow. Grinning broadly he chuckled at the thought while sheathing his blade. The throbbing wound did little to alter his range of motion as Mathis reached around and pulled it out slowly. Allowing the blood to well up and drain down he wanted to get any possible poison out of the wound. Rolling his shoulders, Six mentioned the need for a Knitter and Mathis agreed.

Rising from his spot he could not help but have a larger grin. "You should see the other guy. Will they return with heavier troops? Can they afford to?" He could not help but ask, the thought of more slaughter excited the Deva. Perhaps he might even launch an attack of his own before they arrived back in Tillmont. Civilians quickly ran along the street cleaning up debris and bodies. Pits were being dung with haste to burn the bodies to prevent disease.

"Well Six.. I'm in it for the reputation and coin. Can't be caught pants down when it time to start my own company you know?" Nodding his head lightly, they soon arrived at the center of Tillmont. Several stations were set up in tents connected to buildings. Between the blood, fire, and medical herbs his nose wrinkled before relaxing.

"Given the chance, can we cut the head from the snake before they return?" Raising a brow he looked to Sixth curiously, sitting on one of the cots someone began cleaning and dressing his shoulder wound. Another Knitter gestured for Sixth to take a seat.
 
The 'other guy' was probably split in half if the Sixth had to guess. He took a moment to consider the other mercenary's question as they walked through the city streets. It was a fair thing to wonder on. "Thinking it's likely they might. These princes have their petty pride to consider after all. He'll not take lightly to getting his nose bloodied by a bunch of pups." Just a matter of how much coin was left in the warpurse as Mathis noted. Both sides had strained their reserves at this point, just a matter of who broke first. "They may not come at us in the same numbers but I reckon those that do will have some quality to them."

While the Sixth was making good coin, he was just about done with Tillmont. Too many parties trying to get their own little slice of pie. Things drag on too long and people start forgetting what needed to be done in the first place. That's when matters got messy and the knives come out. Best to settle the job before all that.

"You didn't strike me as the enterprising type but I suppose a bit of ambition isn't all that bad. Never really considered it myself." There were just eight of them and that already seemed like enough. He wasn't sure how the bigger cadres did it.

Eventually they found a pair of somewhat exhausted menders but neither of the mercenaries' wounds required much work.

"I know you're keen to make a name for yourself but that's not the way. Only the worms you end up sleeping with will know your name then. All this-" gestured the Sixth "is just pageantry, real bloody pageantry. There's a reason neither prince ends up taking the field. If they were serious about killing each other they'd be hiring the dark guilds out of 'Send and not us." The mercenary sighed, not entirely sure why he was bothering to explain all this. But something was telling him it would be a shame if the Deva ended up dead here. "Let's see what the morning brings and decide if we want to make any suicide runs after that eh?" added the Sixth with a grin.
 
Rubbing his chin slowly Mathis had to consider Six's words heavily. Kicking the table wouldn't necessarily do anything and it wasn't a full proof plan to getting more money. After all, dying now was unacceptable the Matriarch would shun him forever. That was not allowed to happen..

Flexing his clawed hands the Deva leaned back on the cot and hummed in question. "Some more coals to add to the fire, I am positive the men will do just fine in the next engagement. The thought of kicking the table sounds fun but is not guaranteed to refill the pockets.. A surefire way to end up sleeping with the worms for company." Speaking his thoughts aloud Mathis cracked his neck lightly rising to his feet. He nodded at the mention of waiting to see what tomorrow brings them.

"The world is vast Six. Where do you see yourself several years from now?" The question might have been trivial for their line of work. This did not discourage him from doing so. Ambition boiled in his eyes as the flames of his soul roared to life. Looking down at Sixth, Mathis had reequipped his shield slinging the greatsword onto his back. Rolling his shoulders slowly the Deva waited quietly for Sixth's response while scanning the camp's progress and clean up.
 
"You remind me of my old man asking questions like that. Haven't thought about that bastard in, well, a long damned time." The mercenary was better for it. Greedy fool cared for nothing but himself and the family's prestige, which was just another way of saying himself. He couldn't have given a rat shit about the Sixth even as a young lad. Didn't take long for Dancer to realize he wasn't the only fool cursed with selfish parents.

He ran a hand through mottled hair. "Can't say I ever thought that far, too busy surviving and all that." Some things never changed. "And I've already seen my fair share of the world." He was no greybeard but the Sixth was well-traveled, mostly due to his time in the Trickster god's service. The mercenary learned folks were just as shitty here as they were in the North. Dancer kept that to himself, didn't want to dash the lad's hope right here. 'Course from the gleam in the Deva's eyes, it was looking like an unnecessary worry.

"And you? you spoke of your own company but I wager that's only half the tale."
 
"That's bad for business Six. One should always aspire to a dream regardless of survival mode or not. Everything is changing." Laughing heartily at the man, Mathis was quite happy to be here. He could understand seeing enough of the world. That was how he lived most of his life as a nomad before deciding to make a name for himself where he could.

"You would call me crazy if I told you my dream.." Mathis's smile faded slightly as he stared blankly off at the sky, watching nature take its course. Counting the various burial fires across the camp, his heart became a little bit stonier. "Topple the powerhouses in charge, rediscover the power of my people, and once more return them to power. Whether that be by blood or by allied work. I shall lead them to glory. Both arms crossed over his chest as he hummed in satisfaction and anticipation.

Where was the enemy? How many would there be? How else could he obtain power to become better? So many questions, to be answered, but they would each take time. "The board is yet to be kicked, and I plan on kicking it. If not now, then at some other point. Experience is necessary for me to figure out the rest."
 
"You were wrong about one thing, I don't think you're crazy. I think you're rat-shit insane. Seen men digging for gold in Kaikias speak more sense." The words were harsh unlike his tone. It was clear the other mercenary knew the enormity of his task. "Well, I'm the last person to tell someone how to live. The board you're planning on kicking may turn out to be a Corpsestingers' nest so have cover ready," added the Sixth with a final bit of advice. Upending the order of things was usually a messy business that came with a lot of blood. Dancer knew that all too well. "Just make sure to send some work my way once you hit the top."

The two eventually made it back to the eastern gate where they both fought and were garrisoned. In the time they were gone, efforts had been made to barricade the now broken gate as best as possible. Wouldn't do much, but any time bought was welcome.

He went to have a quick word with the militia sergeant before returning to the Deva. "Seems they want us properly rested for the 'morn. No watch duties for us this night." With that, the Sixth tossed a lazy wave to Mathis and headed to the old bakery where the mercenary was quartered. He checked his weapons before laying down and letting exhaustion take him.

Horns and the day's first light made for a rude awakening. The third and possibly final day of the battle had begun.
 
A low rumble rolled in Mathis's chest as Sixth told him his thoughts. It wasn't a wrong observation; however, his sibling Cahir was far shifter than himself. "Wasn't it once said the line between genius and insanity is slim?" Flashing his canines, the Deva gave a broad smile to the man. "You are most right, cover is something I am figuring out as we speak.." Mathis rubbed his chin lightly, nodding at the mention of giving Sixth some work once he was far enough along. He had no intention of leaving this man to die before he reached the top; if anything, there was much to be learned from Sixth in the time to come.

As they returned, Mathis took his time inspecting the work of the engineers with admiration. How much time these fortifications would bring, he could not tell. "Jolly good.. I could use some rest for the morning." Giving off a curt nod as the man departed, he made himself comfortable by the forge, listening to the Smith work. His mind turned as he watched the embers. 'Cahir.. I wonder if you're finding more success in the courts than myself on the fields. Soon.. Soon I will see you again.' Thoughts of the youngest crossed the Deva's mind as he checked his weapons, in turn handing the smith several coins to pass him a spear for the morning.

"Enemies!! Enemies at the front!!" A shrill voice called as the horns blew, mayhem had broken loose within the confines of the city. The Deva's eyes shot open as he rose in a single stride, grabbing the spear and shield. He kept the greatsword sheathed upon his back as he jogged off towards the East Gate. The faint whistle of an arrow caught his attention, raising his shield, the volley broke against the shield like water on rocks. "Archers!! Return fire!! Hold the gate!!" Mathis bellowed as he peeked to observe more of the situation.

The barricade was on fire, and bodies lay about from their own company and a few of the enemy. Sixth had been right, this fight would be hard pressed for most of the company in the hours to come. With the spear held out point first in his left hand, he jogged forward towards the gate, where the skirmish was heaviest.

@The Sixth
 
"Scrounge us up another squad or our bones'll be mortar for the next bastard," ordered the Sixth. The recently promoted militia sergeant was panicked and clearly out of his depth. Dancer's murderous look was just enough to spur him into action. There wasn't time to follow up as the mercenary knew the barricade was likely already in danger of falling. The frantic yelling and screams made that abundantly clear.

He ducked through a pair of alleys and turned the corner to find the defense still surprisingly holding. The Sixth suspected it had something to do with the presence of the large Deva. A pair of enemy soldiers broke through the line, charging towards the few remaining archers. Steel whistled through the air as Dancer's dagger caught one in the cheek. The hesitation from the other gave the mercenary the chance he needed to close the gap. He parried a hasty attack with his now-drawn ajenwi blade. A swift counter dropped the bastard a half step away from his target.

"Strings aren't playing anymore lads," explained the Sixth to the bows. "Best get ready for knifework."

The Sixth took stock while he was able. Flanks were holding decent enough but the center was looking shakier than a soaker without a day's drink.

"Mathis!" He called to the Deva. "Take the center. I'll make sure we don't get shivved from behind."
 
'One.. Two.. One.. Two..' Mathis counted in his head as the spear jabbed past his enemy's guard into their neck. Yanking it free, he tossed the body to the side as he shield-bashed and pierced the next through their chest. To his right and left, Leif and Kanda worked their shields and blades with practiced ease. Parrying and blocking blows, they each dispatched their opponents like chaff. At the sound of his name, the Deva heard and obeyed with ease. His steps heavy, he sprinted towards the gap to cover it as Leif and Kanda covered his rear to space out and leave room to combat others.

Hurling the spear forward, Mathis pinned two from the force before arching a slash down to cleave into the shield of a waiting enemy. From the force of the blow, the man buckled down to one knee, hitting the earth. Kicking the shield hard, he threw the man back. He was quickly replaced with another soldier, and he stabbed out, connecting with his shield. "Come, my blade needs more blood." Mathis hissed out to the man before slipping his blade low into his chest. Yanking it free, he kicked the body back, lashing out, cutting at the spear shaft, cutting it in two.

"Hold the wall!! Put your backs into it, you runts!" Mathis bellowed loudly, the soldiers around him perked up at the jab. The momentum of their push, while slow, was solid as the troops unified in their efforts. "Push!! Push!! Strike them down!" Mathis instructed stepping forward two steps, he struck out, cutting the man before him down clean through his helmet. All who watched followed suit, matching their pace to the Deva the greenhorns poured their hearts out. A few fell taking their enemy with them, the remaing troop filled in the gaps that opened, looking to avenge a fallen brother.

"Show the old man you've got some life to you lot!!" Snickering, he poked fun at Sixth, even with his back, he did not doubt the man's promise. There was no laughter, but in every soldier there was joy. Behind his shield, Mathis's fingers formed several signs as shroud energy built within his body. Eyes narrowed, he narrowly avoided a spear to the face, bucking his shield up, but he suffered a gash across his cheek. Another soldier cut the shaft as Mathis stabbed down, killing their enemy.

@The Sixth
 
The Sixth spared one final glance toward the center before moving on. He'd seen enough of the Deva in the days before to know he wouldn't go down easy. Dancer figured if Mathis couldn't hold it then no one could, so they'd be fucked anyways. War rarely dealt the ideal hand, yet the mercenary's cards weren't bad this time 'round.
He looked for the squad he requested earlier but was instead met by shouts from behind. The Sixth turned to see the archers from earlier under assault. Poor bastards could barely hold their own when they knew the enemy was coming. This, well it wasn't pretty. The real problem was they were going down too fast. It was too soon for the center to have recovered and even then it was still bad news. Just from a glance, the mercenary could tell the ambushers weren't the usual rabble.

Dancer didn't know how they'd gotten around but it didn't much matter. Time needed to be bought, and there was no one else to foot the bill.

A few attackers peeled off as they saw the Sixth walking towards them. Power coursed through the mercenary as he invoked the name of his Goddess. He called upon the spirit of Siusho, who oft took the form of a duneclaw; a solitary hunter equal parts precision and aggression. Dancer pounced upon prey with swift strikes, steel finding deadly purchase again and again without consideration for the one before.

Four fell, some defenders rallied, but it wouldn't be enough. A ghost's grin.

Onto the next dance then...
 
It was all a haze as Mathis went to work. Sometime ago, he had left his spear lodged in a body he had spiked upright to taunt and break the enemy's morale, and now moved with patience and cadence to his step, for every half step his greatsword blurred, leaving behind halves once whole. He did not slow down as he moved forward, pressing the enemy back. His boys filled the gap and gave room for small repairs as needed.

"Alright, you lot, keep up, don't let your lines break. Knash your teeth and splinter their shields!" Mathis rallied once more before meeting a tight knot of resistance, four to one, with a rather odd-looking fifth in the back watching. Exhaling slowly, steam gusted from his lips as his eyes narrowed. He did not wait, he weaved in and got to work. Taking two in a solid strike, his shield arm whipped out, slamming another in the chest, shattering sword and chest plate. Leaving his greatsword lodged in the bodies, he side-stepped a thrust, kicking out the legs he slamming down the edge, crushing bone and flesh.

Yet the fifth had not moved forward; instead, as Mathis pulled his sword free, they began to circle. With a large morning star in hand, the heavily armored knight removed his cloak. "You.. Dirty Devas are always everywhere.. I get to add another set of horns to my chest now.." With a swing, the enemy had the morning star moving faster than expected. His position was now beyond the gate; the enemy was no longer approaching; instead, they waited for the turn of events.

CLANG! CLANG!

Sparks flew as Mathis parried the spiked ball as he danced in and out of range or a long sword held in the heavy knights hand. One thing was for certain: this man was accustomed to them, but Mathis paid little mind to this. He was rather excited to overcome this new wall. He pondered on Sixth's situation. These new troops were not what they had anticipated.
 
Steel bled heavy with every labored breath. A trio and double lay at his feet. The First and Last, names earned in blood before anything else. Dancer wiped closed palms against rough fabric, hands slick with death. Reputation counted for something when you were slinging scorpdrops at the 'halls but didn't count for much on the field. Bastards didn't give a rat's shit about a name when they were in the muck. Only spurred them on if anything. Stray spear could kill a legend just as well as any random sod. Just a matter of luck and how much the gods decided to piss on you that day.

A handful of the militia still held their ground but most were now sleeping with the worms. Bad tidings for them and even worse for the mercenary. He'd not felt this wanted since dropping half his 'Strafe winnings at Kaala's brothel.

The cobbled streets not desert dunes., dances met not by silky sand but by stagnant stone.

Sensing weakness, another challenged; A shark out of water was still a shark. So they said among the clans of the splintered seas.

Dancer readied himself to invoke spirits that would've dragged his soul straight back to the Kaikias. Yet before suicidal summonings came welcome belligerence of the normal bastard. Reckless fools crashed into the ambushers without a moment's thought. Brave idiots, the whole lot of them.

"Scrounged the squad, sir!" Came the crisp salute.

"Fuck the squad, sergeant, get to business." ordered the Sixth with a smirk as he followed behind the man into the fray.
 
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