The Guild Hall

[Kidney]

Dane's expression shifted behind the mask. His signature sneer replaced by an outward frown and a short huff that rattled the rings around his face in just the right way. The way that meant 'How...dare you.'

"Because." His first word commanded compliance, commanded the continuation of someone's upmost attention drawn to one specific point, one that revolved around death. "Some do not deserve to survive." His dark tone was contrasted now, as the figure stepped into full fruition. Maroon and Black and Brown that stood bathed in defiant and lapping tongues of orange and red. Crackling flames to burn bright, to cage the rage for a few moments longer, to force words into form and place. 

"Inside the chests of good people, thrum the beating hearts that desire blood. The vermilion drums of silent War." His eyes glinted from behind the helmet, dark brown, wettened by passion. "True Law strives to satiate the bloodlust of the populous that exists in Light. Rip darkness and corruption from the bleeding bodies of those that feed the ever-growing evil that burns in the pits below this great Rock."

He stared and stared, watching her, gauging, "Learn. To take the Dark, break it, and give Light to those who deserve it. This is The Divine Calling." 

[rosallora]

[Saoirse]

She doesn't want to take the step back, but it's instinctual. This isn't right - nothing about it is. Her sweat is cold on her skin, pupils wide from trying to take in the light around her. What the hell was he doing - what the fuck - she bares her teeth, feeling at her side for the dagger she carried. He was already armed, and her crossbow was unloaded. She could stave him off. This fucking zealot with his blood cult, darkness and light cult, whatever it was, she wasn't interested. Her fingers find the leather-wrapped hilt, and grip.

"How about you back it up!" She snarls. "Blood for blood. You want to teach me something, you earn it, I'm not givin' you anything. Never damn gave anyone anything in my life, I'm not startin' now." Fuck deserving. Who decided who deserved to live or die? No one. It wasn't about deserving it. It was about taking it.

The woman draws her feeble-feeling weapon with eyes that struggle to take in the last of the flame, trained on the bounty hunter's form. "Come n' get it."

[Kidney]

"So be it." 

Dane's next move was a confluence of speed and strength, a single move, from the hilt. Dane's blade rushed forward in a flash of revealed bright steel, the very first swish a disdainful strike that meant to halve Saoirse's right ear. His next step was a step forward like a striking cobra, a stab with his auxiliary dagger, meant to kabob the piece of severed ear before Saorise's very eyes. 

"Don't be stupid." He began, a first lesson in combat prowess. His next move was alike to the Rook, a single shift to a safe distance, moving one full pace left from her. "How far are you willing to go to best me? I can assure you, not far enough."

[rosallora]

[Saoirse]

She's only barely able to get out of his way, the dagger coming so close to her ear that she could hear the whisper of metal against flesh. A chunk of her hair falls to the ground, having been cut by the razor. There's a heat that comes from the side of her head, and she isn't sure if it's blood or not. Maybe it was. She exhales harshly, darting to the side, managing barely to dig an elbow into his gut.

She doesn't have the breath to say something smart - she's fighting for her life. She wishes she would, but her eyes are frightened animal wide, the cut on her ear trickling blood down onto her shirt.

[Kidney]

Dane's initial reaction was more than Saoirse's idea of it, a great grunt that was followed by a sharp hiss. Her elbow had dug mysteriously into a soft spot. Underneath the armor, Dane could feel the small pool of blood growing in between wet fabrics and now-undry bandages. "You little witch!" He growled, his mind immediately falling into the torrent of red, the fervent rage building in his gut, and boiling up his throat like venomous bile.

Dane did not advance this time, his breath as sacred as the words he spoke moments before. He wouldn't waste another bit of his bitter air, and as such...he began to circle her, swords brandished.

[rosallora]

[Saoirse]

"Witch!?" She takes a stumbling step back, her dagger fully at her side, held out and up and ready to slash and stab. "Who the - are you callin' me a witch because you aren't able to fell me in one blow? is that how it's done now?" She riles up her own anger, clanging her dagger against the light leather piece she wore, the dull fwap of sound unimpressive. But it feels like something, and something's better than nothing.

"Bandit! Witch! What else ya got in there, what other shiny, colorful names?" She takes the initiative, darting forward, aiming to slash at the man. If he wanted to fight, she'd let him fight. She was hardly a stranger to it.

[Kidney]

Dane's face twisted into a sick grin. He could feel the weight of the blades in his hands. The pull of their ends, their middles and their edges, he knew what to do. He would not give her that, she was undeserving. Muscles tensed as his form shifted. His chain and leather moving along his body like a second skin, feet moving one pace over, his daggered hand glancing her slash across his protected forearm, gauntlet letting off a disdainful pang at its touch. He wrenched his arm in the opposite direction, sending her blade to the side, exposing her to the first blow of a sequence. 

The first impact was the metal cranium of a helmet smashing into her nose. The second a lightning-fast flash of steel, and another slice across her other ear. Nearly identical amounts of flesh taken from both now, Dane assumed her dismemberment to be over, and thus darted backwards, and with a grunt due to the pain where the last bandit had stabbed him, kicked her square in her chest. 

His next quote was one made in the assumption of a battle's end. "You approached in a straight line, idiot." 

His blades fell to his sides, poised, but exposed.