Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-19164168-20171023142236/@comment-33787399-20171130190602

&quot;You&apos;ve been awfully busy!&quot; The redguard exclaimed from the hilltop, accompanied by his goons and fellow thugs. The man had a black scruffy beard and his signature scar running from his throat to his left cheek, indicating the man was battle-hardened and no stranger to bounty hunters or men of the king&apos;s law. The sun shone high and cast long dark shadows that reached the foot of the hill.

There stood, supposably, a fair knight, alone and outnumbered one to a six, although the disadvantage in numbers did not seem to faze him. His white robes beneath the shining plate armor were stained and caked with mud and blood. The knight had not drawn his blade just yet, which dangled from his belt but remained untouched even as some of the thugs started descending the hill in a clear attempt to surround the lone knight.

Hannund did not reply. He merely crossed his arms as he waited for whatever was to come, eyeing Harrow from the horizontal slit in his helmet.

Harrow scoffed as if he was insulted, but continued. &quot;Here I was, out to work for an honest living and wondering why my eyes and ears around the region were either dead or missing. You have been on my trail for some time now, yes? I know why.&quot;

&quot;You are anything but honest,&quot; Hannund replied, his voice muffled but well-heard nonetheless. &quot;You were fleeing. The king&apos;s reign has been harsh on you and your lot, and you figured the deserts of Hammerfell would be more kind to you.&quot;

Harrow glared at the knight as he unsheathed his own blade - a crude and jagged scimitar ornamented with golden streaks on a silver hilt. As he drew the blade he poined the curved end below at the knight.

&quot;You have gone far enough. This land is nothing but fodder for me and my men, and I shall take my leave of it.&quot; He said calm but menacingly.

Hannund smirked under his helmet. He had hurt the little pride Harrow still had by insinuating he was fleeing rather than leaving of his own accord, which might just give him an extra advatage in the inevitable battle that would follow.

&quot;You left your men knowing full well they would not come with,&quot; Hannund continued, withdrawing his own ebony blade from his sheath.

&quot;I for one, am glad you did. If you had, you might have properly outnumbered me.&quot;

&quot;Cocky aren&apos;t we?&quot; Another bandit exclaimed. Seemingly the man&apos;s loyalty to Harrow had broken his silence. An Orc with an impressive jaw line filled to the brim with a set of yellow teeth spat on the ground as he prepared to engage. &quot;We&apos;ll see how that works out for you, scum!&quot; The orc roared as he charged, accompanied by two others who were the closest by.

Perhaps they did not attack all at once because he was one man. Whatever it was, it will be their undoing. It struck Hannund he had gotten into a fight sooner than he thought he would. The battle would have been the result of a weeks long search for this individual, but he had not spent an awful amount of words on the knight before he and his goons had engaged him. It was expected, of course, for he knew that he had not been the first one to look for Harrow, and if he did not act quickly he wouldn't be the last either. ____ Most of the information he had acquired, either from talkative innkeepers or rumors from his small social circle in the Breton city consisting of like-minded bounty hunters referred to the chief of the bunch as Harrow.

 ''&apos;&apos;I know him alright. Filthy redguard raided my uncle&apos;s farmstead two day&apos;s march west from here.&apos;&apos;'' Meadbur, a forgetful and distrustful patron of the rookeries&apos; standard inn of choice had told him before he departed from Daggerfall several weeks ago.

 ''&apos;&apos;Last I heard he made south. If luck is on your side, and your lust for coin allows you to press on, you can find him.&apos;&apos;''&apos;

Needless to say, the knight had obliged to do this long before he had met the patron, but Hannund could tell this was a personal matter for the man. Not even before he had opened the door and exited the inn, the innkeeper told the knight to give them fire and brimstone, in his own colourful dialect and wording. The knight responded with a single, curt nod before heading out on this bounty.

Days passed, and Hannund had asked the right questions in the wrong places. Wherever he arrived Harrow had already been. The trail of the chief&apos;s antics was never fresh enough for him to bring a swift end to the redguard. Now it seems, he had lost him once again. As was all too often. It was obvious Harrow was fleeing, perhaps because he aware of the bounty on his head and those willing to claim it. Maybe he was on his way to native Hammerfell. Which posed a problem. Once the man had made it out of the border into the desert he would lose him for sure, and he would be out of any of High Rock&apos;s kings&apos; jurisdiction... So he just had to bring  an end to this madness before his prey escaped.

____

He recalled the innkeeper, and figured he would not only forfeit his life if he failed this simple task, but risk going back on a promise he had made and lose the bounty. All three of these were unnaceptable for their own reasons.

Hannund prepared himself, focusing on the first enemy that attempted to bury his waraxe in his gut. The orc roared as he made his move, but the knight possessed far better footwork and skill with the blade than the lowly thug. He deflected the waraxe and flicked it upwards, using the Orc's momentum to his advantage to swiftly disarm him.

The orc fell face first on the ground as he stumbled over the knight's heavy boots. Before he managed to rise though, the blade entered the back of his neck. With a gurgle the orc perished as he desperately tried to stop the crimson blood pouring from his throat and staining the grass below him red, but it was far too late. Harrow watched, undeterred, but the other bandits doubted how they would fare compared to their former allie.

Hannund walked past the orc but did not retrieve his blade just yet, instead drawing a single dagger from his belt as he turned to the other bandits who circled Hannund like wolves in the night. He briefly turned to each of them before he threw the dagger at a bandit who stood a fair distance away.

The dagger made its mark deep in the eye socket of the second, who screamed in pain as he dropped his weapons and fell to the ground, making swift work of him, but the knight was not done just yet.

As if by itself, the dagger exited the bandit's skull as its blade pointed at the next. Without a warning the blade shot towards the third, this time hitting the thug right in his upper thigh, causing him to fall.

The knight's hand glowed red as he could be clearly seen manipulating the dagger. The thugs did not recall ever seeing a familiar spell used so effectively in battle with the same skill as the knight.

The two remaining, excluding Harrow who became visibly worried as his bandits fell one by one, decided to take their chances and rush the knight while he was still utilizing whatever sorcery he was using to kill their comrades.

The bandit who ran past the corpse of the orc Hannund had first slain did not think much of his impending doom as the knight turned around slowly, as if waiting to be struck. Once both bandits had passed the corpse on their way to Hannund the same ebony blade was plunged into the incoming bandit's skull, who was dead before he hit the ground. This caused the last bandit to be stopped in his tracks as he looked sidewards at his companion, exchanging a few glances of utter shock as he carefully considered his options.

<p style="font-weight:400;">His leader had been idle on the hill and the rest of his companions were either dead or crippled. This knight had killed them all effortlessly without them being able to even make a single dent into the plate armor. He lowered his sword as he clutched it tightly.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Hannund looked at the bandit as if he almost knew what he was going to do before he had actually done it. He was trembling in his boots, and bandits were a cowardly lot. Before Hannund had even finished the thought, the man ran the opposite direction, intent to flee this merciless bounty hunter.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Another dagger ended the man's life before he could do so succesfully though. He turned to the leader up above as he stood in the middle of his men, calling his blade back to him and pointing it towards Harrow up above. With his other hand he gestured to his men, who lay bloody and defeated on the soft grass.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Either you will surrender, or end up in the dirt." Hannund exclaimed, not mincing his words in the slightest. He would, and Harrow knew this, but preferred not to.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Harrow looked bewildered at the situation that was in his advantage mere moments ago before the tides had turned against him. He looked around as if for a way to escape, but there were only steppes and plains as far as the eye could see. He gauged his options as Hannund 'called' his daggers back to him, which he left dangling on his belt once again.

<p style="font-weight:400;">After a moment of silence had passed, Hannund let out a sigh as he briefly lowered his weapon, before he started walking up the hill towards the leader. From a distance the knight had not been very intimidating, but as Breton clad in plate drew closer, the leader decided to flee like the last of his men.

<p style="font-weight:400;">The knight was dissapointed at the very least, but moreso disgusted considering he was a leader only in name. Before Harrow had even fully turned around to run down the other side of the hill a dagger, seemingly out of nowhere struck him in his thigh. He screamed as he tumbled down the other side of the hill, coming to a standstill once he was at the foot of it.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Now it was not he who towered above the knight, but the other way around. Once he had recovered from the tumble he noticed the Knight was halfway there and faster than he had thought. He suddenly became very aware that he might not have another close call on this attempt on his life. Harrow somehow managed to get on both feet, leaving the dagger in its place as he hopelessly attempted to continue his escape.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Again, another dagger was buried in his shoulder as he let loose another cry of pain as he fell flat on his stomach, grunting and breathing heavily. Still he crawled further, only to see a shadow blot out the rays of the sun that shone on him. Once he looked up he screamed for a final time. The last thing he ever saw was that of a knight burying a third, black blade in him.

<p style="font-weight:400;">_____

<p style="font-weight:400;">Hannund was awfully glad to have finally reached Daggerfall yet again after he had taken his leave. He looked particularly forward to bringing the head of Harrow to whoever would relieve him of it. He had made the journey on horseback, and his steed was a black and sturdy horse. There was some equipment that dangled from the saddle such as potions, supplies, and water - a typical setup for a wanderer and traveller.

<p style="font-weight:400;">He was not an awfully common sight in the city, but he had garnered some small fame among bounty hunters and local villages that benefited from his exploits. He had hoped he could have been of some use to the army after he had build up a name for himself privately before joining the ranks of the army, but he had postponed it up until now because of his recent business with Harrow.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Even though he was no nobility, he could not help but look like one. His armor gave him a certain imposing presence as he looked down at passersby from his helmet. He wandered the city for a while before he headed for the palace, careful not to trespass and get arrested. He had heard often that the guards took security very seriously, so he headed for the closest one he could find in order to ask for directions.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Directions to the guard captain, or whoever else I can claim a bounty from." He asked a guard, giving him a curt nod in greeting first.