Storm on the Coast (Michael and Marshall)

[Mr. Moon]

Michael #1 

After what happened on Silver Islands, Michael wanted to travel home directly, but when he was going through the different cruisers available, and their routes the lawyer changed his mind, when he noticed one, that was making stop on the Holy Renemum Empire. If he recalled correctly, that place was home of Magnus, one of his fellow M.A.R.I. members who had unique...hobby not so dissimilar to his own. It was way too any years since he had the opportunity to speak with someone who would share his opinion and way of life, and so he decided to take a small detour and lengthen his and Eve´s holidays.

Their journey was a peaceful one, without any pirate raids or dangerous weather and so they arrived just on time. Even finding Mangus proved itself easy as the fellow hunter and his dojo were somehow famous in this part of the world. And so, after short introduction, Michael and his assistant became guests of the white haired fighter. Together they spend a nice weekend. The men mainly by training, sparring and planning some possible cooperated effort, while women by...Michael didn´t know and to be honest didn´t even cared that much about it.

Their ship´s departure was scheduled after three days and so the second day, Magnus and his wife took them to a trip around the island. It was during this trip that Michael moved away from the main group, finding himself nice and quiet place on a hill above a small fishing village. Completely ignoring the movement bellow him, his eyes were focused on the heavy clouds above. The rain was slowly coming and that meant he should keep his distance from others as he didn´t find suitable victim for his hunt yet.

[Smiley]

To the clouds high above, and the skies beyond, in places none can see, do the gods rest. Not the fat, weirdly dressed slobs of Mariejois, but real gods, with powers far beyond human imagination, omniscience, omnipotence. The ones that people prayed to, for salvation from the dark beings from below. That is, if you're one to believe. No disbeliever could ever truly be blamed for losing faith in a benevolent, all-seeing, all-powerful being, not when one lives in the world that they live, riddled with cruel men, pirates in every corner, a cruel government, slavers disguised as "gods".

God it is, however, the one a lot of people call on to save their lives in their most desperate of moments, raise their voices to the skies beyond the clouds and beg for salvation.

And yet, when a demand went wrong, when the life of an innocent man was choked out of him, the gods had rejected the people's cries of fear and the skies? The skies closed up, giving the people not the salvation that they begged for, no, but a thunderstorm.

Harsh winds that rapidly picked up in intensity, thunder booming across both sea and land, a torrential downpour that washed away spat up blood of a now-corpse.

The Marauder in White.

The Tyrant.

The Antlion.

A few names, specially across the Holy Remunum Empire, had very recently begun to spread, whispered by the lips of scared peasantry, people who lived in the exact same outskirts that attacks ocurred. A man who supposedly came out of nowhere, seeking nothing other than money and riches - A Bandit, obviously, those come a dime a dozen.

Cruelty separated him from the rest, asking for everything and then taking more. At this moment, just like the last times, with an ivory-white, large mace in hand, the giant pursued people down, specially the fat and the well dressed, to shake them down to their last beri, to strip them quite literally naked of their expensive clothing, jewels, shoes.

Had he gotten himself into the organ smuggling market, he'd probably be taking those too.

As the screams continued to pick up and people continued to scatter, it seemed that none were close to help and put a stop to it. At the very least, slow him down enough for an escape to be done.

..Was there?

[Mr. Moon]

Michael #2 

It began with a few small drops. Tiny little droplets of water that hit his face. So small, that he would probably noticed if they weren´t followed by another, bigger and heavier, and than another and another. In matter of seconds thunderstorm arrived. Powerful in it´s fury, it was whipping the coast with large and heavy rain drops accompanied by thunders and lighting strikes. In such weather it was rather unwise to sit on the highest peak nearby, yet Michael looked unbothered. Watching the dark clouds above him, the lawyer was savoring the moment.

There was no need to rush. The storm won´t end anytime soon and he already found his target. Or maybe not?

As he turned his eyes down to the village he noticed large figure moving through it´s streets. At that distance it was very hard to recognize any details but it looked like marauder of sort attacked the settlement bellow, robing anyone who wasn´t fast or lucky enough to get away.

“You are lucky.”

Smirked Michael letting the unfaithful husband slide for this time as he was replaced by much bigger target.

“Hmmm, guess it´s time to go. This sort of people doesn´t stay long on one place.”

Muttering for himself the lawyer got up on his feet, quickly running down from the hill.

For someone as fast as him the few hundred meters that were between him and the thug didn´t take too long to overcome. Especially with a paved road beneath his feet. As if he was carried by the wind he arrived in matters on minutes, right in the middle of that mugger´s rampage.

Of course as a man of high standing and dignity, he didn´t run directly to him, but only to the edge of the village, from where he slowed down to a regular walk.

“Help! Save yourself! RUN!”

With his trusted cane in one hand and gentle smile on face he walked through the mayhem towards the giant of man who was swinging huge bone like mace left and right.

“Good evening sir.”

He said quietly. Yet somehow he was sure that Marshall will notice him, despite the raging storm and chaos all around them.

[Smiley]

To say that Michael had sharp instincts was quite appropriate. Indeed, as predicted, the bandit showed himself to be quite the sharp one himself, a creeping sensation crawling up his entire back the moment the man spoke, his armored head turning back to look down at him. Average height, unassuming build, respectable fashion sense - if a bit reserved. Calm face and confident speech..

"An assassin type that blends into crowds, maybe? ..Mighty stupid to come into direct combat. Which means he's underestimating me." Mutterings so quiet that only a particularly talented dog could even hope to hear came out of his lips, the monster of a man raising his mace over his shoulder while continuing to evaluate that man, clearly sizing him up, much like a predator does to one who invades their territory.

Finally, he spoke. A low, youthful yet cold tone, the cruel calmness that contrasted the blood that washed into the cracks of the stone pavements, assisted by the raging storm. "How pleasant, a polite assassin. You don't seem like the rich type, so I'll be polite enough in return by letting you live if you turn back from whence you came."
There was half a mind to give him threats or show him what happened if he didn't obey but, to be honest, what need was there to do it? Did the deafening screams not paint a good enough of a picture? Did not the victims of his sadistic rampage not show what happens when one defies those who should not be defied?

Is Michael one who defies?

[Mr. Moon]

Michael #3

The giant of man stood there silently for a moment, probably trying to judge Michael´s strength. However if he intended to do so by his height alone, he would be sorely mistaken. Finally he spoke with a voice of young man, maybe to young to commit so many crimes, but then, the killer couldn´t care less about the people lying around. Not carrying much about being described as “assassin” he asked.

“You will let me live?”
His voice, silentl, as if it was nothing more than a whispering of morning breeze.

“Did you looked around yourself my friend?”
This was a little bit louder.

“Look around you, look above! Do you see the water falling? Do you see the rain? It means that this is my time! It´s time I am seeking the wicked and corrupted. Time I am killing the sinners, and as the rain cleansing their filth from this world. And you my friend, you sinned. By killing so many people. By destroying their potential, you yourself lost the right to live.”
Passing on his judgment, Michael charged forward with a speed no mere human could hope to achieve, yet still slow enough for normal eyes to see him.

The time for words passed and so he drew his sword mid run, tossing away it´s scabbard in the form of the rest of his walking cane.

He was no fool however, he knew way too well that the difference in height will be a problem alone, not mentioning that bone like armor of him. But he also knew way too well that all armor, no matter how strong has it´s weak points. So as he got to that´s brute range, he suddenly changed the direction of his movement. Using the mud and omnipresent water to his advantage, the lawyer slid sideways, to attack Marshall from the flank with fast thrust aimed on one of the few places that no armor could protect, the armpit. From that speed and position it would be almost impossible for a lesser man to aim, not to mention hit such target, but not for Michael whose precision and accuracy with the blade was almost supernatural.

[Smiley]

The bandit's reaction to Michael's speech was, honestly, a bit jarring. With a light shake of his free left hand, Marshall raised it up to his face, covering his face for a moment, a rather long, deep sigh from the deepest corners of his bowels escaping his lips with a growl, with such raw emotions that it made everything he had ever said or thought up to that point feel fake. Indeed, an endless amount of annoyed contempt came out of him.

"Blood and gore, I already despise you more than a cesspit's filth. How many times do I have fight these "righteous" ant-sized brats until I get someone worth my time?" Marshall grumbled, even as Michael sped towards him. Faster than himself by a respectable bit, he had to give him that, but the giant's quite quick too: his eyes tracked him just fine the entire time, keeping on a defensive position while gouging out his fighting style. It was shown quite quickly when he slid to the side and captured a meaningful gap in the bandit's armor, when that slender tip slid through a gap in his armpit and stabbed straight into his flesh.

"Really. That's your best shot?" The beast of a man loomed over the rain-fetishist, his bloodlust increasing by the second, his pride wounded, his impregnable armor having such a weakness so readily exposed by someone who had never faced him! The leg closest to Michael shot out quite quickly, intending on planting itself firmly in his fragile-looking, unarmored gut, trying to abuse the staggering height difference to put him through some pain. Either way, he'd have to back away and get ready to attack the bandit again. "Try again, brat."

Marshall himself was paying much more attention to him, reminding himself of his armor's only "abusable" spots: his eyesockets, the very tip of his chin and his armpits. Even his knees were protected, as bone wrapped around everywhere it could. Clearly, it wasn't enough because, as much as he might have mocked Michael's attempts and feigned stoicism, his hidden face was grimacing quite strongly, teeth quietly grinding into each other, as to force himself to not release his voice in any manner.

[Mr. Moon]

Michael #4

It was direct hit. Michael witnessed as his blade slipped under Marshall´s guard and penetrated deep into his flesh. However, that was it.

“What kind of monster is this!”
The lawyer cursed for himself, when the armored giant not only didn´t fell, but actually had enough energy to drive him away with a kick and taunt him, by mocking his attack.

Being almost completely focused on the offensive, the killer almost missed Marshall´s counter, reacting only barely in time, by jumping backwards with his arm crossed in front of his body. Still, he wasn´t fast enough and the kick hit him, sending him dozen or so meters away into the rain.

“Brat huh...look who is talking.”

Michael´s face changed into grimace from the mix of pain and anger. It was a very long since someone actually had the nerves to call him that and even back than it was someone clearly older than himself and not some barely adult youngster in fancy armor. Yet, despite his anger, he didn´t attacked and instead bid his time, circling around the other man, like predator stalking his prey, while he waited for the dull pain that was pulsing through his arms to go away. He could afford that, because he had one more trump on his side. The murky day together with the heavy rain made his dark suit almost completely invisible from greater distance, while the white bones of his enemy were in beautiful contrast with the muddy ground. Especially when occasional lightnings flashed him out.

“Alright, let´s do it.”
After few long seconds of waiting, Michael moved again. Letting the heavy rain and thunders to hide he sound of his step, he ran towards his enemy. Doing his best to use his speed to stay behind him. He was pretty sure, that there won´t be any weak spots on his backs, but he wasn´t targeting them. Instead he focused on Marshall knee, targeting it with quick push kick to force him down so he would be able to grab him by the visor of his helmet, pulling the whole head down, to tear the giant down into the mud. Strong or not, armored or not, the weakness of human body were always the same and he was expert in exploiting them.