Concordia wasn't terribly far from the dueling venues. Northeast, past the city and into the country. Loxley often walked rather than take the carriage, and tonight was no exception. Not only did he like to save his money, rather than splurging to walk a few miles north, he often enjoyed the walk. Tonight's walk in particular gave him time to reflect over his day.
The early afternoon that had gone disastrously when he went shopping with Nadine and Eileen. The throwing of rotten fruit and taunting had been enough to set him off. Blows were exchanged but nothing good came of it. Only more ill feelings, not to mention the disappointment from Eileen and her father, and Nadine's taunting about it all.
The duels that soured when he dared to press his luck against the man that bested Soerl in a duel. Loxley wasn't even sure why he took that man on. Was it truly because he felt his 'mentor' slighted, or did he simply want to prove himself? Either way, he had bitten off more than he could chew. That man proved to be his superior in the ring, and not only that... He had hit on Loxley. That, and the man's strange, almost menacing attitude had set him off again.
But now, at the very least, Loxley had calmed considerably. His pace had even taken a leisurely speed as he walked, occasionally lifting his gaze to the constellations above that fascinated him so.
Soerl was merely following his nose as he often did. He had spent enough time with Loxley for the young man's scent to stand out from others. It was a tactic he often used. His heightened sense of smell was often an advantage. Once he'd stepped outside the Red Dragon, Soerl tilted his head up and sniffed at the air a few times in rapid succession. What direction did he need to go? That was the question.
The minstrel's head turned this way and that. Northeast was the answer. The trail was becoming faint. That meant he needed to hurry. At the risk of losing a little time, Soerl quickly climbed his way onto the roof of a nearby building. His claws made the feat fairly simple. Being on the rooftops offered a few advantages. A better line of sight and the ability to leap between roofs instead of having to zigzag through the streets were the two main ones. The minstrel proceeded northeast, sniffing the air as he went along.
Loxley moved along, though his tranquility was soon shattered. Footfalls against concrete caught his attention just ahead, and there he saw two men loitering near the street he walked upon. Middle aged and grizzled. They didn't at all look like the sort one would want to cross paths with so late at night with no one around to hear one scream. He didn't dare make eye contact with either male, and instead lowered his head somewhat in an unassuming manner as he tried to pass them by. Try, of course, being the key word. Loxley stopped rigidly when the men stepped out to cut him off, sneering and sizing him up.
"I do not want trouble." Loxley tried to maintain an even tone as he spoke. He figured he knew what the men were after, and wasn't about to offer resistance. Two on one, after all, and it would take far too long for him to draw his blade... "Though I do not have much money, you are welcome to what I have." Unfastening a pouch from his belt, he offered it to the two men. Much to his surprise, rather than accept? One of the men reached out and violently slapped the pouch from his hand, sending it, and coins, scattering all over the concrete. Were they truly after violence in spite of everything?
Jaw tensing, Loxley began to step backwards, though his ill fortune had him stepping into a third man he had been rather oblivious of. He was tall, bulky, but the young lad didn't have much time to take him in. Knuckles found their mark upon his face and sent him down rather hard.
Sniff, sniff. The minstrel moved along quickly and without much noise at all. Years of thievery made him rather stealthy when he wanted to be that way. He came to a pair of buildings with a rather large gap in the middle. Soerl stood on one of them. He wanted to catch up to Loxley as soon as possible. Dropping down to the road and then climbing the other building would take time. He backed up some. After getting a running start, he leapt into the air toward the other building's roof. The days where he could fly had passed, but he had learned a trick. A large rush of air propelled him further than he would have gotten on his own. He landed on the other roof with little room for error. It didn't deter him. The scent was stronger. He was gaining on Loxley. His steps became less stealthy and more quick. It wouldn't be long before he caught up to the young man. Of that Soerl was certain.
Loxley groaned quietly, brows furrowing as he tasted his own blood. He scrambled slowly in an effort to regain his bearings, but a sound caught in his throat as one of the men snatched him up by his hair.
"Looks like he'd make a good plaything to a mistress to me."
"Bet he would fetch a nice price, aye."
"Not if'n ya keep hittin' him in the face! Keep yer marks below the face and above the belt."
Loxley barely registered what the men were speaking of, but it was enough that he knew he ought to try to get out of this predicament. Even if he had to run for it. Though he couldn't draw his longsword quickly, his dagger was another matter. Gripping its hilt, he moved quickly to swipe the blade across the arm of the man that held him by the hair. That man cried out, startled, and relinquished his hold on Loxley's hair. He had begun a sprint aside, but the other two men were quicker to act. A jab to the young lad's throat was enough to send him crashing back to the ground, writhing as he gasped for air.
The early afternoon that had gone disastrously when he went shopping with Nadine and Eileen. The throwing of rotten fruit and taunting had been enough to set him off. Blows were exchanged but nothing good came of it. Only more ill feelings, not to mention the disappointment from Eileen and her father, and Nadine's taunting about it all.
The duels that soured when he dared to press his luck against the man that bested Soerl in a duel. Loxley wasn't even sure why he took that man on. Was it truly because he felt his 'mentor' slighted, or did he simply want to prove himself? Either way, he had bitten off more than he could chew. That man proved to be his superior in the ring, and not only that... He had hit on Loxley. That, and the man's strange, almost menacing attitude had set him off again.
But now, at the very least, Loxley had calmed considerably. His pace had even taken a leisurely speed as he walked, occasionally lifting his gaze to the constellations above that fascinated him so.
Soerl was merely following his nose as he often did. He had spent enough time with Loxley for the young man's scent to stand out from others. It was a tactic he often used. His heightened sense of smell was often an advantage. Once he'd stepped outside the Red Dragon, Soerl tilted his head up and sniffed at the air a few times in rapid succession. What direction did he need to go? That was the question.
The minstrel's head turned this way and that. Northeast was the answer. The trail was becoming faint. That meant he needed to hurry. At the risk of losing a little time, Soerl quickly climbed his way onto the roof of a nearby building. His claws made the feat fairly simple. Being on the rooftops offered a few advantages. A better line of sight and the ability to leap between roofs instead of having to zigzag through the streets were the two main ones. The minstrel proceeded northeast, sniffing the air as he went along.
Loxley moved along, though his tranquility was soon shattered. Footfalls against concrete caught his attention just ahead, and there he saw two men loitering near the street he walked upon. Middle aged and grizzled. They didn't at all look like the sort one would want to cross paths with so late at night with no one around to hear one scream. He didn't dare make eye contact with either male, and instead lowered his head somewhat in an unassuming manner as he tried to pass them by. Try, of course, being the key word. Loxley stopped rigidly when the men stepped out to cut him off, sneering and sizing him up.
"I do not want trouble." Loxley tried to maintain an even tone as he spoke. He figured he knew what the men were after, and wasn't about to offer resistance. Two on one, after all, and it would take far too long for him to draw his blade... "Though I do not have much money, you are welcome to what I have." Unfastening a pouch from his belt, he offered it to the two men. Much to his surprise, rather than accept? One of the men reached out and violently slapped the pouch from his hand, sending it, and coins, scattering all over the concrete. Were they truly after violence in spite of everything?
Jaw tensing, Loxley began to step backwards, though his ill fortune had him stepping into a third man he had been rather oblivious of. He was tall, bulky, but the young lad didn't have much time to take him in. Knuckles found their mark upon his face and sent him down rather hard.
Sniff, sniff. The minstrel moved along quickly and without much noise at all. Years of thievery made him rather stealthy when he wanted to be that way. He came to a pair of buildings with a rather large gap in the middle. Soerl stood on one of them. He wanted to catch up to Loxley as soon as possible. Dropping down to the road and then climbing the other building would take time. He backed up some. After getting a running start, he leapt into the air toward the other building's roof. The days where he could fly had passed, but he had learned a trick. A large rush of air propelled him further than he would have gotten on his own. He landed on the other roof with little room for error. It didn't deter him. The scent was stronger. He was gaining on Loxley. His steps became less stealthy and more quick. It wouldn't be long before he caught up to the young man. Of that Soerl was certain.
Loxley groaned quietly, brows furrowing as he tasted his own blood. He scrambled slowly in an effort to regain his bearings, but a sound caught in his throat as one of the men snatched him up by his hair.
"Looks like he'd make a good plaything to a mistress to me."
"Bet he would fetch a nice price, aye."
"Not if'n ya keep hittin' him in the face! Keep yer marks below the face and above the belt."
Loxley barely registered what the men were speaking of, but it was enough that he knew he ought to try to get out of this predicament. Even if he had to run for it. Though he couldn't draw his longsword quickly, his dagger was another matter. Gripping its hilt, he moved quickly to swipe the blade across the arm of the man that held him by the hair. That man cried out, startled, and relinquished his hold on Loxley's hair. He had begun a sprint aside, but the other two men were quicker to act. A jab to the young lad's throat was enough to send him crashing back to the ground, writhing as he gasped for air.