A battle is a life-or-death fight between two nearly matched entities, so what occurred between Carbuncle and the cloaked Hyur could only be called a slaughter. It was often said that cornered animals only fought that much harder. But Mongrels knew exactly how to deal with such dangerous desperation. He lifted his mace over his head, cocking back his first blow.
The familiar leapt at him, teeth bared to rip out his throat.
Tyonis smashed his mace into the creature’s skull, ripping it from the air and hammering it into the ground with brutal pragmatism.
His mace followed through, mercilessly. At such speeds, his arm may have broken if he made direct contact with the hard ground, but Carbuncle’s Aetheric flesh softened the impact.
A second strike silenced the creature’s piteous whines.
A third strike crushed its twitching body.
As the familiar began to disperse, Tyonis came to a full stand,his eyes following the Miqo’te as the boy shoved his way through the crowd. It was a common tactic for older street-rats to use novice thieves as bait for the authorities while the more experienced pickpockets and shoplifters took advantage of the distraction. What the Miqo’te did was much the same. The strong lived by devouring the weak; it was one of the only laws that applied to both the wealthy and the destitute.
“The weak are food for the strong,†Tyonis begins, a grim smile visible beneath his hood. “But devouring your own familiar must leave a terrible taste in your mouth, boya.†He says to the empty air between them.
Whether or not the Miqo’te heard him over the thong, Tyonis could not say, but he was sure those ears were not just for show. As the Miqo’te vanished, the Yellow Jackets finally made their appearance. After a swift questioning, Tyonis used his mace and pointed the guardsmen in the direction of the thief. Without another word, they gave chase. The swordsman stood silently as the guards rushed past him. He made no effort to pursue.
With their fascination sated, the gathering finally started to scatter, and the hooded figure disappeared into the crowded market streets once more.
The familiar leapt at him, teeth bared to rip out his throat.
Tyonis smashed his mace into the creature’s skull, ripping it from the air and hammering it into the ground with brutal pragmatism.
His mace followed through, mercilessly. At such speeds, his arm may have broken if he made direct contact with the hard ground, but Carbuncle’s Aetheric flesh softened the impact.
A second strike silenced the creature’s piteous whines.
A third strike crushed its twitching body.
As the familiar began to disperse, Tyonis came to a full stand,his eyes following the Miqo’te as the boy shoved his way through the crowd. It was a common tactic for older street-rats to use novice thieves as bait for the authorities while the more experienced pickpockets and shoplifters took advantage of the distraction. What the Miqo’te did was much the same. The strong lived by devouring the weak; it was one of the only laws that applied to both the wealthy and the destitute.
“The weak are food for the strong,†Tyonis begins, a grim smile visible beneath his hood. “But devouring your own familiar must leave a terrible taste in your mouth, boya.†He says to the empty air between them.
Whether or not the Miqo’te heard him over the thong, Tyonis could not say, but he was sure those ears were not just for show. As the Miqo’te vanished, the Yellow Jackets finally made their appearance. After a swift questioning, Tyonis used his mace and pointed the guardsmen in the direction of the thief. Without another word, they gave chase. The swordsman stood silently as the guards rushed past him. He made no effort to pursue.
With their fascination sated, the gathering finally started to scatter, and the hooded figure disappeared into the crowded market streets once more.
