Post by Mr. Moshypocrite McSlowbro on Jul 5, 2012 23:44:41 GMT -5
Braggar's bellow seemed to ignite a murderous fire among his crew, and they leapt forward to carry out their captain's will. The congenial smile which the mediating musician had maintained through these short proceedings fell away. He could not help but have hoped that matters would work themselves out in a less barbaric manner. "Ah, well then. I suppose the time for civility truly has passed." With that, he stashed the aforementioned treasure-related documents back into his pack.
Jude was not surprised to see the already-bloodied swordsman charge towards him, at least not in concept. That was what he had been ordered to do, after all. What did concern him, however, was the speed at which he crossed the distance between them. Now, this particular artisan had an usual amount of experience in quitting the company of others with spectacular haste, but he was well acquainted which his own capabilities. And in a straight race, he would not be able to out run this man. That particular fact, to some degree, unsettled him.
Just as their mutual collision seemed imminent, Jude's hand secured tightly around the odd sheath that hung awkwardly off his pack, his would-be-attacker slowed to a halt. He cracked open his mouth and spouted a jumble of words with such swiftness that they were nearly incomprehensible. However, the fact he was not being forced to defend himself against someone who was in all likelihood a far superior melee combatant, seemed to speak for itself.
“Look... I’m not a pirate; I’m a... well sort of a bounty hunter. You though, if you can hit half as well as you can hoot, then maybe we won’t all die horribly.”
"Oh! How delightful. To be perfectly frank, I was under the impression I was going to have to club you over the head. And given your apparent brutishness, I do believe that it would have taken a good number of blows." The last sentence was spoken more at the fellow's back than anything else, as he had chosen to only spend moments in Jude's company. It was fortunate that his voice was far too tenacious to be drowned out by something as mortal men locked in combat.
However, after a brief moment of self-examination, he found his words did not carry quite the message he had originally intended to convey to his new ally (Or more accurately, one of the few relevant figures on the battlefield who were not intent on perforating his internal organs). "Er. That did not come out quite as complimentary as I had originally intended. I assure you, I did not- Oh no wait, he's seems to have engaged himself in other matters." The quieter member of the conversation had taken upon himself to strike out at that Braggat.
"That's right! I was in the midst of something myself. See, now I just feel foolish." The roars of brigands as they clamored down from the docks towards the town finally pierced Jude's inner monologue, and he brought himself back to the task at hand. Good that he had, as well. One of the pirates, a rather ragged looking fellow who seemed to be missing an eye, came upon the bony man with the full intent to see him done harm. Running full tilt, there really was little the attacker could do when his target withdrew a small red ball from his sleeve.
In an almost casual motion, Jude launched the small ball at the ground, where its rubber nature would cause it to bounce back up again, and slam quite squarely into the center of the older seafarer's forehead. While causing no significant damage, it was enough to distract the man from his balance. A quick sidestep, and sweeping the man's legs out from underneath him became simple work. Sending the minion rolling off into a wall. "Pardon."
A second, younger assailant ran in behind the first, taking a similar approach to combat as his predecessor. The successor was met with a similar fate, as another small bouncy ball found its way underneath his foot just a moment before he threw all his weight down onto that side. The act sent him head over heels at the most troublesome of moments, and all it took was two deft hands to keep the spinning motion going on past him. "Pardon, my mistake."
The third and fourth came simultaneously, and they seemed wise enough not to fall in the others footsteps. They held back a few feet cautiously, their blades held high as to keep the musician at bay. Jude still advanced calmly, unperturbed. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting.
Bringing to bear his sizable voice yet again, he let loose a loud message. "Excuse me! You lot wanted this map did you not? Be that the case, I would suggest someone of merit to come claim it. Else I fear I might just... slip away, in the confusion." While his request seemed vague, his eyes never left Zane.
Feeling slighted by their quarry's apparent lack of concern for the very present danger they believed they posed to his livelihood, the pair raised their swords to strike him. It was at precisely that moment that Jude drove the base of his palms into their respective noses. They stumbled backwards, suddenly occupied with trying to stem the fountains of lifeblood that now poured from the center of their face, despite the rather inconsequential nature of their injury.
Life, in his experience, very much imitated music. All that matters is knowing which notes to hit.
Jude was not surprised to see the already-bloodied swordsman charge towards him, at least not in concept. That was what he had been ordered to do, after all. What did concern him, however, was the speed at which he crossed the distance between them. Now, this particular artisan had an usual amount of experience in quitting the company of others with spectacular haste, but he was well acquainted which his own capabilities. And in a straight race, he would not be able to out run this man. That particular fact, to some degree, unsettled him.
Just as their mutual collision seemed imminent, Jude's hand secured tightly around the odd sheath that hung awkwardly off his pack, his would-be-attacker slowed to a halt. He cracked open his mouth and spouted a jumble of words with such swiftness that they were nearly incomprehensible. However, the fact he was not being forced to defend himself against someone who was in all likelihood a far superior melee combatant, seemed to speak for itself.
“Look... I’m not a pirate; I’m a... well sort of a bounty hunter. You though, if you can hit half as well as you can hoot, then maybe we won’t all die horribly.”
"Oh! How delightful. To be perfectly frank, I was under the impression I was going to have to club you over the head. And given your apparent brutishness, I do believe that it would have taken a good number of blows." The last sentence was spoken more at the fellow's back than anything else, as he had chosen to only spend moments in Jude's company. It was fortunate that his voice was far too tenacious to be drowned out by something as mortal men locked in combat.
However, after a brief moment of self-examination, he found his words did not carry quite the message he had originally intended to convey to his new ally (Or more accurately, one of the few relevant figures on the battlefield who were not intent on perforating his internal organs). "Er. That did not come out quite as complimentary as I had originally intended. I assure you, I did not- Oh no wait, he's seems to have engaged himself in other matters." The quieter member of the conversation had taken upon himself to strike out at that Braggat.
"That's right! I was in the midst of something myself. See, now I just feel foolish." The roars of brigands as they clamored down from the docks towards the town finally pierced Jude's inner monologue, and he brought himself back to the task at hand. Good that he had, as well. One of the pirates, a rather ragged looking fellow who seemed to be missing an eye, came upon the bony man with the full intent to see him done harm. Running full tilt, there really was little the attacker could do when his target withdrew a small red ball from his sleeve.
In an almost casual motion, Jude launched the small ball at the ground, where its rubber nature would cause it to bounce back up again, and slam quite squarely into the center of the older seafarer's forehead. While causing no significant damage, it was enough to distract the man from his balance. A quick sidestep, and sweeping the man's legs out from underneath him became simple work. Sending the minion rolling off into a wall. "Pardon."
A second, younger assailant ran in behind the first, taking a similar approach to combat as his predecessor. The successor was met with a similar fate, as another small bouncy ball found its way underneath his foot just a moment before he threw all his weight down onto that side. The act sent him head over heels at the most troublesome of moments, and all it took was two deft hands to keep the spinning motion going on past him. "Pardon, my mistake."
The third and fourth came simultaneously, and they seemed wise enough not to fall in the others footsteps. They held back a few feet cautiously, their blades held high as to keep the musician at bay. Jude still advanced calmly, unperturbed. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting.
Bringing to bear his sizable voice yet again, he let loose a loud message. "Excuse me! You lot wanted this map did you not? Be that the case, I would suggest someone of merit to come claim it. Else I fear I might just... slip away, in the confusion." While his request seemed vague, his eyes never left Zane.
Feeling slighted by their quarry's apparent lack of concern for the very present danger they believed they posed to his livelihood, the pair raised their swords to strike him. It was at precisely that moment that Jude drove the base of his palms into their respective noses. They stumbled backwards, suddenly occupied with trying to stem the fountains of lifeblood that now poured from the center of their face, despite the rather inconsequential nature of their injury.
Life, in his experience, very much imitated music. All that matters is knowing which notes to hit.