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Their main aim in coming to Taengea again was clear and easy - to assist in whatever the young and nubile King needed in his rule, and make the heck off to return to Colchis. In Nike's opinion, they had left their home kingdom far too often of late anyway, and not spent nearly enough time culling the outskirts of their rocky kingdom in Vangelis's efforts to play political warfare, the exact kind Nike had no patience in. If it wasn't because of her loyalty to her general and crown prince, Nike wouldn't have bothered.
But to send Vangelis off alone in a kingdom who had just had their own king unceremoniously murdered was inconceivable in her mind, so she had agreed to come along. With her tasks done for the day, and Vangelis off to meet Stephanos, the woman had assigned two of the men who had came to guard Vangelis, but instead chose to take the afternoon to hie off to the Circus - where the last attack had taken place, and where she vividly remembered fighting off the attackers.
Under instruction, Nike wanted to investigate, if only to make sure they had covered all their bases. A king was the most highly guarded of all people in a kingdom - to have both a king and a crown prince slained in one fell swoop smelled of foulplay in Nike's mind, and she wanted to find out why.
It would seem however, that most of Taengea had recovered from the horrifying attack, for the last they had left the marketplace had been deserted, but now as she made her way across, it seemed lively and jubilant again. But the effects of the attack was clear - as she neared the Circus, the crowds thinned out, and barely anyone lingered as she finally drew to a stop to stare at the closed doors of the Circus, a venue which has not been used in the last few months, for good reason.
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Their main aim in coming to Taengea again was clear and easy - to assist in whatever the young and nubile King needed in his rule, and make the heck off to return to Colchis. In Nike's opinion, they had left their home kingdom far too often of late anyway, and not spent nearly enough time culling the outskirts of their rocky kingdom in Vangelis's efforts to play political warfare, the exact kind Nike had no patience in. If it wasn't because of her loyalty to her general and crown prince, Nike wouldn't have bothered.
But to send Vangelis off alone in a kingdom who had just had their own king unceremoniously murdered was inconceivable in her mind, so she had agreed to come along. With her tasks done for the day, and Vangelis off to meet Stephanos, the woman had assigned two of the men who had came to guard Vangelis, but instead chose to take the afternoon to hie off to the Circus - where the last attack had taken place, and where she vividly remembered fighting off the attackers.
Under instruction, Nike wanted to investigate, if only to make sure they had covered all their bases. A king was the most highly guarded of all people in a kingdom - to have both a king and a crown prince slained in one fell swoop smelled of foulplay in Nike's mind, and she wanted to find out why.
It would seem however, that most of Taengea had recovered from the horrifying attack, for the last they had left the marketplace had been deserted, but now as she made her way across, it seemed lively and jubilant again. But the effects of the attack was clear - as she neared the Circus, the crowds thinned out, and barely anyone lingered as she finally drew to a stop to stare at the closed doors of the Circus, a venue which has not been used in the last few months, for good reason.
Their main aim in coming to Taengea again was clear and easy - to assist in whatever the young and nubile King needed in his rule, and make the heck off to return to Colchis. In Nike's opinion, they had left their home kingdom far too often of late anyway, and not spent nearly enough time culling the outskirts of their rocky kingdom in Vangelis's efforts to play political warfare, the exact kind Nike had no patience in. If it wasn't because of her loyalty to her general and crown prince, Nike wouldn't have bothered.
But to send Vangelis off alone in a kingdom who had just had their own king unceremoniously murdered was inconceivable in her mind, so she had agreed to come along. With her tasks done for the day, and Vangelis off to meet Stephanos, the woman had assigned two of the men who had came to guard Vangelis, but instead chose to take the afternoon to hie off to the Circus - where the last attack had taken place, and where she vividly remembered fighting off the attackers.
Under instruction, Nike wanted to investigate, if only to make sure they had covered all their bases. A king was the most highly guarded of all people in a kingdom - to have both a king and a crown prince slained in one fell swoop smelled of foulplay in Nike's mind, and she wanted to find out why.
It would seem however, that most of Taengea had recovered from the horrifying attack, for the last they had left the marketplace had been deserted, but now as she made her way across, it seemed lively and jubilant again. But the effects of the attack was clear - as she neared the Circus, the crowds thinned out, and barely anyone lingered as she finally drew to a stop to stare at the closed doors of the Circus, a venue which has not been used in the last few months, for good reason.
Kyros, dressed in a very plain chiton so as not to stand out, meandered his way through the marketplace. His wounds hand healed nicely by now, even very little soreness in his honed muscles. As he walked, his feet inevitably led him toward the deserted arena where he'd been injured in the first place. This wasn't the first time, though he'd certainly kept a distance and only viewed the place from the edge of the marketplace. The scene was always the same. Empty, quiet, deserted. The great doors closed to the public. Today, however, looked to have changed that view.
Kyros cocked his head to the side, his grey eyes narrowing as his gaze followed a figure that had wondered closer to those closed doors. The man glanced around, checking to make sure that none in the crowd behind him was watching him too closely. Then he turned his attention back to the one that looked familiar. He wanted - needed - to get a closer look. He slipped to the side, out of direct line of sight and made his way swiftly towards the circus arena.
As he drew closer, his eyes narrowed once more. He definitely recognized that uniform. His hand dropped to one of two daggers hidden in the folds of his chiton. His fingers wrapping comfortably around the hilt of the weapon. He felt his muscles tighten, coiling for an anticipated attack. He'd been itching for action for weeks. And now he had his chance. This soldier belonged to the same militia as the one that had caught him by surprise the day the Creed had attacked the circus, had injured him so badly that he'd been on the brink of death when he'd been found and nursed back to health by an unsuspecting young couple. A wicked smile graced his lips. The hunter had found his prey.
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Kyros, dressed in a very plain chiton so as not to stand out, meandered his way through the marketplace. His wounds hand healed nicely by now, even very little soreness in his honed muscles. As he walked, his feet inevitably led him toward the deserted arena where he'd been injured in the first place. This wasn't the first time, though he'd certainly kept a distance and only viewed the place from the edge of the marketplace. The scene was always the same. Empty, quiet, deserted. The great doors closed to the public. Today, however, looked to have changed that view.
Kyros cocked his head to the side, his grey eyes narrowing as his gaze followed a figure that had wondered closer to those closed doors. The man glanced around, checking to make sure that none in the crowd behind him was watching him too closely. Then he turned his attention back to the one that looked familiar. He wanted - needed - to get a closer look. He slipped to the side, out of direct line of sight and made his way swiftly towards the circus arena.
As he drew closer, his eyes narrowed once more. He definitely recognized that uniform. His hand dropped to one of two daggers hidden in the folds of his chiton. His fingers wrapping comfortably around the hilt of the weapon. He felt his muscles tighten, coiling for an anticipated attack. He'd been itching for action for weeks. And now he had his chance. This soldier belonged to the same militia as the one that had caught him by surprise the day the Creed had attacked the circus, had injured him so badly that he'd been on the brink of death when he'd been found and nursed back to health by an unsuspecting young couple. A wicked smile graced his lips. The hunter had found his prey.
Kyros, dressed in a very plain chiton so as not to stand out, meandered his way through the marketplace. His wounds hand healed nicely by now, even very little soreness in his honed muscles. As he walked, his feet inevitably led him toward the deserted arena where he'd been injured in the first place. This wasn't the first time, though he'd certainly kept a distance and only viewed the place from the edge of the marketplace. The scene was always the same. Empty, quiet, deserted. The great doors closed to the public. Today, however, looked to have changed that view.
Kyros cocked his head to the side, his grey eyes narrowing as his gaze followed a figure that had wondered closer to those closed doors. The man glanced around, checking to make sure that none in the crowd behind him was watching him too closely. Then he turned his attention back to the one that looked familiar. He wanted - needed - to get a closer look. He slipped to the side, out of direct line of sight and made his way swiftly towards the circus arena.
As he drew closer, his eyes narrowed once more. He definitely recognized that uniform. His hand dropped to one of two daggers hidden in the folds of his chiton. His fingers wrapping comfortably around the hilt of the weapon. He felt his muscles tighten, coiling for an anticipated attack. He'd been itching for action for weeks. And now he had his chance. This soldier belonged to the same militia as the one that had caught him by surprise the day the Creed had attacked the circus, had injured him so badly that he'd been on the brink of death when he'd been found and nursed back to health by an unsuspecting young couple. A wicked smile graced his lips. The hunter had found his prey.
Nike's first order of business was to inspect the exterior of the Circus - how did someone manage to hang the head of the current King up there with no one in the stands witnessing it? Almost all of Vasiliadon had been in attendance that day, and yet no one noticed until the King's head flew like a flag in the afternoon sun, and the chaos that ensued almost all but ensured no one could see even if anyone was fleeing. That impossibly coincidental happenings which went one after the other smelled of foul play to Nike, and the Commander could not shake it the moment they returned to Taengea and saw Stephanos faced a possible death sentence.
As much as she did not view the young playboy king favorably, it didn't mean she wanted to see someone innocent get thrashed for something they didn't know, and after a few interactions with him, Nike doubted he was capable of murder. He had a streak of righteousness in him at least, and the anger at the death of his father could not be faked in the least.
With knitted brows, the Commander treaded lightly as she walked the circumference of the Circus, occasionally pausing when she saw something that caught her attention. A gouge in the woods, a nick here and there, all was inspected by her to minute attention. While they were small clues here and there though, there was nothing conclusive that could tell her who would be a likely Creed - nothing too telling.
Heaving a deep, frustrated sigh when nothing came to fruition, the Commander headed for the entrance, flashing her militia uniform and informing them of who she assisted was enough to grant her permission from the guards that stood there. While the Circus wasn't closed per say, people were still being wary, and the guards did not stop entries, merely checked on who it was. Still, they weren't vigilant, and Nike watched them wander away, before entering the Great Circus itself.
Absent of the loud crowds and excitement of a chariot race, it felt oddly hollow when Nike walked in, an obvious difference from the last time she was here where the atmosphere was electric from excitement, and then fraught with fear when the attack had started. Pausing at the edges of the track, the Commander paused as she surveyed the arena, wondering h ow long exactly it would take her alone to comb the area. Maybe she should've asked for help?
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Nike's first order of business was to inspect the exterior of the Circus - how did someone manage to hang the head of the current King up there with no one in the stands witnessing it? Almost all of Vasiliadon had been in attendance that day, and yet no one noticed until the King's head flew like a flag in the afternoon sun, and the chaos that ensued almost all but ensured no one could see even if anyone was fleeing. That impossibly coincidental happenings which went one after the other smelled of foul play to Nike, and the Commander could not shake it the moment they returned to Taengea and saw Stephanos faced a possible death sentence.
As much as she did not view the young playboy king favorably, it didn't mean she wanted to see someone innocent get thrashed for something they didn't know, and after a few interactions with him, Nike doubted he was capable of murder. He had a streak of righteousness in him at least, and the anger at the death of his father could not be faked in the least.
With knitted brows, the Commander treaded lightly as she walked the circumference of the Circus, occasionally pausing when she saw something that caught her attention. A gouge in the woods, a nick here and there, all was inspected by her to minute attention. While they were small clues here and there though, there was nothing conclusive that could tell her who would be a likely Creed - nothing too telling.
Heaving a deep, frustrated sigh when nothing came to fruition, the Commander headed for the entrance, flashing her militia uniform and informing them of who she assisted was enough to grant her permission from the guards that stood there. While the Circus wasn't closed per say, people were still being wary, and the guards did not stop entries, merely checked on who it was. Still, they weren't vigilant, and Nike watched them wander away, before entering the Great Circus itself.
Absent of the loud crowds and excitement of a chariot race, it felt oddly hollow when Nike walked in, an obvious difference from the last time she was here where the atmosphere was electric from excitement, and then fraught with fear when the attack had started. Pausing at the edges of the track, the Commander paused as she surveyed the arena, wondering h ow long exactly it would take her alone to comb the area. Maybe she should've asked for help?
Nike's first order of business was to inspect the exterior of the Circus - how did someone manage to hang the head of the current King up there with no one in the stands witnessing it? Almost all of Vasiliadon had been in attendance that day, and yet no one noticed until the King's head flew like a flag in the afternoon sun, and the chaos that ensued almost all but ensured no one could see even if anyone was fleeing. That impossibly coincidental happenings which went one after the other smelled of foul play to Nike, and the Commander could not shake it the moment they returned to Taengea and saw Stephanos faced a possible death sentence.
As much as she did not view the young playboy king favorably, it didn't mean she wanted to see someone innocent get thrashed for something they didn't know, and after a few interactions with him, Nike doubted he was capable of murder. He had a streak of righteousness in him at least, and the anger at the death of his father could not be faked in the least.
With knitted brows, the Commander treaded lightly as she walked the circumference of the Circus, occasionally pausing when she saw something that caught her attention. A gouge in the woods, a nick here and there, all was inspected by her to minute attention. While they were small clues here and there though, there was nothing conclusive that could tell her who would be a likely Creed - nothing too telling.
Heaving a deep, frustrated sigh when nothing came to fruition, the Commander headed for the entrance, flashing her militia uniform and informing them of who she assisted was enough to grant her permission from the guards that stood there. While the Circus wasn't closed per say, people were still being wary, and the guards did not stop entries, merely checked on who it was. Still, they weren't vigilant, and Nike watched them wander away, before entering the Great Circus itself.
Absent of the loud crowds and excitement of a chariot race, it felt oddly hollow when Nike walked in, an obvious difference from the last time she was here where the atmosphere was electric from excitement, and then fraught with fear when the attack had started. Pausing at the edges of the track, the Commander paused as she surveyed the arena, wondering h ow long exactly it would take her alone to comb the area. Maybe she should've asked for help?
Kyros kept to the shadows as much as he could. He was used to being dressed in his black wrappings that allowed him to further blend with his surroundings. But he didn't have those anymore. They'd been too badly soiled with blood and muck and they had been tossed while he'd been unconscious from his head injury. He hadn't been happy about that development when he'd woken up, but it couldn't be helped. And the only way to get more would be to go home...
Kyros shook his head, forcing his thoughts back to the present. To the soldier he was tailing. He watched as the soldier made his way past the guard. Watched as the guard actually wandered off, presumably to make the rounds of the perimeter. Meaning Kyros would only have a limited amount of time to slip through the gate and into the arena. With this in mind, he stealthily slipped closer and casually entered the circus arena. The key was to act like he belonged, right?
His hand still on the hidden dagger, he slipped off to the side after determining which direction his quarry had gone. He stayed back a bit, though slowly gaining ground on the soldier. Kyros felt his patience waning with every step. His anger about being downed by one of this militia, possibly this very soldier, mounting inside him and making him crave the impending encounter.
He forced himself to wait, to watch. To wait for that most opportune time to take this one down. But even though he was waiting, he wasn't keeping himself as well hidden. The guards were outside, and no one else was in here. And Kyros was interested in what this man was doing. SO he watched, while casually moving in, closing the distance, making it seem like he was just another visitor.
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Kyros kept to the shadows as much as he could. He was used to being dressed in his black wrappings that allowed him to further blend with his surroundings. But he didn't have those anymore. They'd been too badly soiled with blood and muck and they had been tossed while he'd been unconscious from his head injury. He hadn't been happy about that development when he'd woken up, but it couldn't be helped. And the only way to get more would be to go home...
Kyros shook his head, forcing his thoughts back to the present. To the soldier he was tailing. He watched as the soldier made his way past the guard. Watched as the guard actually wandered off, presumably to make the rounds of the perimeter. Meaning Kyros would only have a limited amount of time to slip through the gate and into the arena. With this in mind, he stealthily slipped closer and casually entered the circus arena. The key was to act like he belonged, right?
His hand still on the hidden dagger, he slipped off to the side after determining which direction his quarry had gone. He stayed back a bit, though slowly gaining ground on the soldier. Kyros felt his patience waning with every step. His anger about being downed by one of this militia, possibly this very soldier, mounting inside him and making him crave the impending encounter.
He forced himself to wait, to watch. To wait for that most opportune time to take this one down. But even though he was waiting, he wasn't keeping himself as well hidden. The guards were outside, and no one else was in here. And Kyros was interested in what this man was doing. SO he watched, while casually moving in, closing the distance, making it seem like he was just another visitor.
Kyros kept to the shadows as much as he could. He was used to being dressed in his black wrappings that allowed him to further blend with his surroundings. But he didn't have those anymore. They'd been too badly soiled with blood and muck and they had been tossed while he'd been unconscious from his head injury. He hadn't been happy about that development when he'd woken up, but it couldn't be helped. And the only way to get more would be to go home...
Kyros shook his head, forcing his thoughts back to the present. To the soldier he was tailing. He watched as the soldier made his way past the guard. Watched as the guard actually wandered off, presumably to make the rounds of the perimeter. Meaning Kyros would only have a limited amount of time to slip through the gate and into the arena. With this in mind, he stealthily slipped closer and casually entered the circus arena. The key was to act like he belonged, right?
His hand still on the hidden dagger, he slipped off to the side after determining which direction his quarry had gone. He stayed back a bit, though slowly gaining ground on the soldier. Kyros felt his patience waning with every step. His anger about being downed by one of this militia, possibly this very soldier, mounting inside him and making him crave the impending encounter.
He forced himself to wait, to watch. To wait for that most opportune time to take this one down. But even though he was waiting, he wasn't keeping himself as well hidden. The guards were outside, and no one else was in here. And Kyros was interested in what this man was doing. SO he watched, while casually moving in, closing the distance, making it seem like he was just another visitor.
No sense in thinking of what if she had asked for help though. Now she was a tad too far, and afterall she had left most of her men back with Vangelis to ensure her crown prince was well guarded. She was out on her own time, not at all under Vangelis's instructions, but she was also curious. Part of why Nike functioned so well as a Commander was her own innate sense of righteousness and her want to find out the truth, and she couldn't stand it when she couldn't figure out something. It may not have kept her awake at night when she was in Colchis, but now that Nike was back in Taengea and was given a chance to check it out, she couldn't let it slide.
Readjusting the longsword strapped to her back, the woman vaulted over the barriers to head up to the stands where the late King's head had been piked up, curious on how it had happened without anyone in the stands noticing. To be able to hitch up a long pole with an obviously bleeding and decapitated head on it wasn't exactly something inconspicuous. Had it been done by someone in the stands, or for some people outside? And why had the Creed resorted to such flashy methods anyway?
Taking the steps up, the stands were not very high up, perhaps the height of one and a half of a regular person, but just at a height good enough to watch the chariot races had it been going on. Still, it was a distance which would make the job of anyone trying to heave a head up difficult.
Heading directly to the back, Nike crouched down, her boots crunching the dust of the long-unused stands as she looked at the specks of blood that had not been cleaned. It was obvious that people had been in a hurry to clear out the place, and even the cleaners had felt creeped out when they had been tasked to pack up after all the fuss had been over. Nike frowned when her eyes spied the scrapes on the wooden flooring. So the pike had been leaned against the stands? So that means the Creed had been holding the pike up from the outside. Did any of the commoners see any figures? Had they been too scared to approach them? There would be a market, and a flurry of activity going on during the day of the races. Everyone had been excited to see the young princes race. Surely someone would've seen something?
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No sense in thinking of what if she had asked for help though. Now she was a tad too far, and afterall she had left most of her men back with Vangelis to ensure her crown prince was well guarded. She was out on her own time, not at all under Vangelis's instructions, but she was also curious. Part of why Nike functioned so well as a Commander was her own innate sense of righteousness and her want to find out the truth, and she couldn't stand it when she couldn't figure out something. It may not have kept her awake at night when she was in Colchis, but now that Nike was back in Taengea and was given a chance to check it out, she couldn't let it slide.
Readjusting the longsword strapped to her back, the woman vaulted over the barriers to head up to the stands where the late King's head had been piked up, curious on how it had happened without anyone in the stands noticing. To be able to hitch up a long pole with an obviously bleeding and decapitated head on it wasn't exactly something inconspicuous. Had it been done by someone in the stands, or for some people outside? And why had the Creed resorted to such flashy methods anyway?
Taking the steps up, the stands were not very high up, perhaps the height of one and a half of a regular person, but just at a height good enough to watch the chariot races had it been going on. Still, it was a distance which would make the job of anyone trying to heave a head up difficult.
Heading directly to the back, Nike crouched down, her boots crunching the dust of the long-unused stands as she looked at the specks of blood that had not been cleaned. It was obvious that people had been in a hurry to clear out the place, and even the cleaners had felt creeped out when they had been tasked to pack up after all the fuss had been over. Nike frowned when her eyes spied the scrapes on the wooden flooring. So the pike had been leaned against the stands? So that means the Creed had been holding the pike up from the outside. Did any of the commoners see any figures? Had they been too scared to approach them? There would be a market, and a flurry of activity going on during the day of the races. Everyone had been excited to see the young princes race. Surely someone would've seen something?
No sense in thinking of what if she had asked for help though. Now she was a tad too far, and afterall she had left most of her men back with Vangelis to ensure her crown prince was well guarded. She was out on her own time, not at all under Vangelis's instructions, but she was also curious. Part of why Nike functioned so well as a Commander was her own innate sense of righteousness and her want to find out the truth, and she couldn't stand it when she couldn't figure out something. It may not have kept her awake at night when she was in Colchis, but now that Nike was back in Taengea and was given a chance to check it out, she couldn't let it slide.
Readjusting the longsword strapped to her back, the woman vaulted over the barriers to head up to the stands where the late King's head had been piked up, curious on how it had happened without anyone in the stands noticing. To be able to hitch up a long pole with an obviously bleeding and decapitated head on it wasn't exactly something inconspicuous. Had it been done by someone in the stands, or for some people outside? And why had the Creed resorted to such flashy methods anyway?
Taking the steps up, the stands were not very high up, perhaps the height of one and a half of a regular person, but just at a height good enough to watch the chariot races had it been going on. Still, it was a distance which would make the job of anyone trying to heave a head up difficult.
Heading directly to the back, Nike crouched down, her boots crunching the dust of the long-unused stands as she looked at the specks of blood that had not been cleaned. It was obvious that people had been in a hurry to clear out the place, and even the cleaners had felt creeped out when they had been tasked to pack up after all the fuss had been over. Nike frowned when her eyes spied the scrapes on the wooden flooring. So the pike had been leaned against the stands? So that means the Creed had been holding the pike up from the outside. Did any of the commoners see any figures? Had they been too scared to approach them? There would be a market, and a flurry of activity going on during the day of the races. Everyone had been excited to see the young princes race. Surely someone would've seen something?
Kyros eyed the soldier climb the steps up the stands. He narrowed his eyes. WIth them on the high ground, it would be harder for him to take them down. But not impossible. But if he was up there with the his target, then he could drive the person down to a lower level. Maybe even manage to toss them to the ground below. It wasn't a very long drop, but had a minor possibility of injuring his soon to be opponent. With this thought in mind, Kyros took to the stands. He was in plain view now. "Were you at the races that day?" He asked as he neared. He spoke casually. Curiously. Most in the area were aware of what happened at this arena, about the deaths, and the Creed's hand in it. He was not dressed as a Drowned One now, so there would be no reason to think he'd had a hand in those events. He hoped. His fingers twitched near his hidden dagger. "Tragic, wasn't it?" He hoped his voice sounded convincing. He didn't really think it had been a tragic incident. He'd reveled in the plans, the same as his Brothers. The ruling family deserved what they got. "What are you looking for?" he asked, stopping a few feet away from the soldier.
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Kyros eyed the soldier climb the steps up the stands. He narrowed his eyes. WIth them on the high ground, it would be harder for him to take them down. But not impossible. But if he was up there with the his target, then he could drive the person down to a lower level. Maybe even manage to toss them to the ground below. It wasn't a very long drop, but had a minor possibility of injuring his soon to be opponent. With this thought in mind, Kyros took to the stands. He was in plain view now. "Were you at the races that day?" He asked as he neared. He spoke casually. Curiously. Most in the area were aware of what happened at this arena, about the deaths, and the Creed's hand in it. He was not dressed as a Drowned One now, so there would be no reason to think he'd had a hand in those events. He hoped. His fingers twitched near his hidden dagger. "Tragic, wasn't it?" He hoped his voice sounded convincing. He didn't really think it had been a tragic incident. He'd reveled in the plans, the same as his Brothers. The ruling family deserved what they got. "What are you looking for?" he asked, stopping a few feet away from the soldier.
Kyros eyed the soldier climb the steps up the stands. He narrowed his eyes. WIth them on the high ground, it would be harder for him to take them down. But not impossible. But if he was up there with the his target, then he could drive the person down to a lower level. Maybe even manage to toss them to the ground below. It wasn't a very long drop, but had a minor possibility of injuring his soon to be opponent. With this thought in mind, Kyros took to the stands. He was in plain view now. "Were you at the races that day?" He asked as he neared. He spoke casually. Curiously. Most in the area were aware of what happened at this arena, about the deaths, and the Creed's hand in it. He was not dressed as a Drowned One now, so there would be no reason to think he'd had a hand in those events. He hoped. His fingers twitched near his hidden dagger. "Tragic, wasn't it?" He hoped his voice sounded convincing. He didn't really think it had been a tragic incident. He'd reveled in the plans, the same as his Brothers. The ruling family deserved what they got. "What are you looking for?" he asked, stopping a few feet away from the soldier.
Considering the arena was closed to the generaly public, Nike had truly not expected anyone around as she was. Afterall, had she not had to pass by guard as she entered? She was certain those guards weren't going to allow anyone else in easily. As such, when a voice addressed her (because who else could it be addressing in a vast, empty circus?), Nike turned around in surprised, her hand already reaching for her longsword as her eyes fell upon her companion.
Dark haired, unimposing... her hands dropped away from the hilt of her weapon, but it didn't mean Nike wasn't still wound up as she watched the other's every move. Was he a Taengean soldier from one of their units too? He had the look of a militant, or at least someone who fought often. "I was, yes." the woman answered cautiously, still never letting her eyes leave the man. She had lived long enough to be wary of every person, especially in a place fraught with tension as Taengea currently was.
"Quite, yes." What else could you call the one fell death of both the ruling King and crown prince? The current King lost half his family and his two male figures in his life, and while Nike was neutral to the young and new King, it didn't mean she didn't feel compassion for him. "Nothing in particular." she murmured evasively, not at all wanting to give an answer to someone when she wasn't all certain where his origins were.
"And you?" she asked back in return. It was a question loaded with meaning as the woman took a step back, eyes occasionally darting to the stands to see if she could catch anything else, but always keeping one eye out on the man who had just made his presence known to her. "The place is off-limits, so did you have a reason for being here?"
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Considering the arena was closed to the generaly public, Nike had truly not expected anyone around as she was. Afterall, had she not had to pass by guard as she entered? She was certain those guards weren't going to allow anyone else in easily. As such, when a voice addressed her (because who else could it be addressing in a vast, empty circus?), Nike turned around in surprised, her hand already reaching for her longsword as her eyes fell upon her companion.
Dark haired, unimposing... her hands dropped away from the hilt of her weapon, but it didn't mean Nike wasn't still wound up as she watched the other's every move. Was he a Taengean soldier from one of their units too? He had the look of a militant, or at least someone who fought often. "I was, yes." the woman answered cautiously, still never letting her eyes leave the man. She had lived long enough to be wary of every person, especially in a place fraught with tension as Taengea currently was.
"Quite, yes." What else could you call the one fell death of both the ruling King and crown prince? The current King lost half his family and his two male figures in his life, and while Nike was neutral to the young and new King, it didn't mean she didn't feel compassion for him. "Nothing in particular." she murmured evasively, not at all wanting to give an answer to someone when she wasn't all certain where his origins were.
"And you?" she asked back in return. It was a question loaded with meaning as the woman took a step back, eyes occasionally darting to the stands to see if she could catch anything else, but always keeping one eye out on the man who had just made his presence known to her. "The place is off-limits, so did you have a reason for being here?"
Considering the arena was closed to the generaly public, Nike had truly not expected anyone around as she was. Afterall, had she not had to pass by guard as she entered? She was certain those guards weren't going to allow anyone else in easily. As such, when a voice addressed her (because who else could it be addressing in a vast, empty circus?), Nike turned around in surprised, her hand already reaching for her longsword as her eyes fell upon her companion.
Dark haired, unimposing... her hands dropped away from the hilt of her weapon, but it didn't mean Nike wasn't still wound up as she watched the other's every move. Was he a Taengean soldier from one of their units too? He had the look of a militant, or at least someone who fought often. "I was, yes." the woman answered cautiously, still never letting her eyes leave the man. She had lived long enough to be wary of every person, especially in a place fraught with tension as Taengea currently was.
"Quite, yes." What else could you call the one fell death of both the ruling King and crown prince? The current King lost half his family and his two male figures in his life, and while Nike was neutral to the young and new King, it didn't mean she didn't feel compassion for him. "Nothing in particular." she murmured evasively, not at all wanting to give an answer to someone when she wasn't all certain where his origins were.
"And you?" she asked back in return. It was a question loaded with meaning as the woman took a step back, eyes occasionally darting to the stands to see if she could catch anything else, but always keeping one eye out on the man who had just made his presence known to her. "The place is off-limits, so did you have a reason for being here?"
'The place is off-limits, so did you have a reason for being here?'
Kyros let his gaze drift around the immediate terrain, though his features remained outwardly impassive as he breached another step closer. He was nearly on even ground with the soldier now. "Same reasons as yourself, I would imagine. Looking for clues as to what happened here." Confidence. Survival was about confidence. Acting like you belonged, even if you didn't. Appearance was everything. He took another step up. Level with the Colchian soldier now and just a few long strides away. He paused, taking measure of the one before him now that he was so close. "Have you found anything?" he asked, truely curious though doubting that the men he'd once called brothers had left much if any trace behind that would lead anyone to them. Or to what remained of them after the routing at the gorge.
It still pained Kyros that he had not been there to aid his fellow Shadow Walkers. That he had not been there to defend his master. But he'd been injured, had dearly died, at the hands of a soldier much like the one he faced now. Kyros felt his anger rising within him. One hand subtly gripped the hidden dagger hilt. He planned to take that anger out one this one...
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'The place is off-limits, so did you have a reason for being here?'
Kyros let his gaze drift around the immediate terrain, though his features remained outwardly impassive as he breached another step closer. He was nearly on even ground with the soldier now. "Same reasons as yourself, I would imagine. Looking for clues as to what happened here." Confidence. Survival was about confidence. Acting like you belonged, even if you didn't. Appearance was everything. He took another step up. Level with the Colchian soldier now and just a few long strides away. He paused, taking measure of the one before him now that he was so close. "Have you found anything?" he asked, truely curious though doubting that the men he'd once called brothers had left much if any trace behind that would lead anyone to them. Or to what remained of them after the routing at the gorge.
It still pained Kyros that he had not been there to aid his fellow Shadow Walkers. That he had not been there to defend his master. But he'd been injured, had dearly died, at the hands of a soldier much like the one he faced now. Kyros felt his anger rising within him. One hand subtly gripped the hidden dagger hilt. He planned to take that anger out one this one...
'The place is off-limits, so did you have a reason for being here?'
Kyros let his gaze drift around the immediate terrain, though his features remained outwardly impassive as he breached another step closer. He was nearly on even ground with the soldier now. "Same reasons as yourself, I would imagine. Looking for clues as to what happened here." Confidence. Survival was about confidence. Acting like you belonged, even if you didn't. Appearance was everything. He took another step up. Level with the Colchian soldier now and just a few long strides away. He paused, taking measure of the one before him now that he was so close. "Have you found anything?" he asked, truely curious though doubting that the men he'd once called brothers had left much if any trace behind that would lead anyone to them. Or to what remained of them after the routing at the gorge.
It still pained Kyros that he had not been there to aid his fellow Shadow Walkers. That he had not been there to defend his master. But he'd been injured, had dearly died, at the hands of a soldier much like the one he faced now. Kyros felt his anger rising within him. One hand subtly gripped the hidden dagger hilt. He planned to take that anger out one this one...
While she may be a militant, Nike had not gotten to the level she was today with being all brawn and no brain. She has had to hone her skills of observation or she would've perished on a random battlefield a long time ago, because Nike fought more with brains then brawn, to outwit men naturally stronger and with more musculature then her. She instead, made use of her small stature to duck and avoid, but it also meant she's had to learn how and when to duck and avoid, and all of that meant she's had to learn to be very watchful.
It proved to be a useful skill as she became Commander, because in her position, Nike realized she's had to do far more watching and guiding her men then just pure training and honing her fighting skills. Smarts and brain came into play, and it was the two things Nike had in spades.
She frowned at his reasons, shaky at best. What reason did he have to try and find clues, unless he was someone sent by the royals of Taengea themselves? Yet as far as Nike knew, the royals had not sent anyone, and even she was here of her own accord, more curious then anything, and determined to get to the bottom of it.
"Were you there on the day?" she finally asked, although she wanted to ask far more. Did someone send him to find clues? Did he have his own personal motive to look for reasons as to what happened? For a random person to come after she had just happened to be there as well was far too odd, and with the life she's head, Nike didn't even trust people she's known for awhile, much less someone who had just waltzed in a place which had just hosted a massacre and an attack.
Watching carefully as he took another step up to be on the same level as she was, Nike was acutely aware of the daggers she had tucked in her boots as she shook her head, not keen at all to share any of her information to this stranger. If she was at all going to share any discovery, it would be to Vangelis and she would allow her General to decide if such information was worth passing on to anyone else. "None at all." she murmured, eyes briefly flickering to the benches, and then back to the man.
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While she may be a militant, Nike had not gotten to the level she was today with being all brawn and no brain. She has had to hone her skills of observation or she would've perished on a random battlefield a long time ago, because Nike fought more with brains then brawn, to outwit men naturally stronger and with more musculature then her. She instead, made use of her small stature to duck and avoid, but it also meant she's had to learn how and when to duck and avoid, and all of that meant she's had to learn to be very watchful.
It proved to be a useful skill as she became Commander, because in her position, Nike realized she's had to do far more watching and guiding her men then just pure training and honing her fighting skills. Smarts and brain came into play, and it was the two things Nike had in spades.
She frowned at his reasons, shaky at best. What reason did he have to try and find clues, unless he was someone sent by the royals of Taengea themselves? Yet as far as Nike knew, the royals had not sent anyone, and even she was here of her own accord, more curious then anything, and determined to get to the bottom of it.
"Were you there on the day?" she finally asked, although she wanted to ask far more. Did someone send him to find clues? Did he have his own personal motive to look for reasons as to what happened? For a random person to come after she had just happened to be there as well was far too odd, and with the life she's head, Nike didn't even trust people she's known for awhile, much less someone who had just waltzed in a place which had just hosted a massacre and an attack.
Watching carefully as he took another step up to be on the same level as she was, Nike was acutely aware of the daggers she had tucked in her boots as she shook her head, not keen at all to share any of her information to this stranger. If she was at all going to share any discovery, it would be to Vangelis and she would allow her General to decide if such information was worth passing on to anyone else. "None at all." she murmured, eyes briefly flickering to the benches, and then back to the man.
While she may be a militant, Nike had not gotten to the level she was today with being all brawn and no brain. She has had to hone her skills of observation or she would've perished on a random battlefield a long time ago, because Nike fought more with brains then brawn, to outwit men naturally stronger and with more musculature then her. She instead, made use of her small stature to duck and avoid, but it also meant she's had to learn how and when to duck and avoid, and all of that meant she's had to learn to be very watchful.
It proved to be a useful skill as she became Commander, because in her position, Nike realized she's had to do far more watching and guiding her men then just pure training and honing her fighting skills. Smarts and brain came into play, and it was the two things Nike had in spades.
She frowned at his reasons, shaky at best. What reason did he have to try and find clues, unless he was someone sent by the royals of Taengea themselves? Yet as far as Nike knew, the royals had not sent anyone, and even she was here of her own accord, more curious then anything, and determined to get to the bottom of it.
"Were you there on the day?" she finally asked, although she wanted to ask far more. Did someone send him to find clues? Did he have his own personal motive to look for reasons as to what happened? For a random person to come after she had just happened to be there as well was far too odd, and with the life she's head, Nike didn't even trust people she's known for awhile, much less someone who had just waltzed in a place which had just hosted a massacre and an attack.
Watching carefully as he took another step up to be on the same level as she was, Nike was acutely aware of the daggers she had tucked in her boots as she shook her head, not keen at all to share any of her information to this stranger. If she was at all going to share any discovery, it would be to Vangelis and she would allow her General to decide if such information was worth passing on to anyone else. "None at all." she murmured, eyes briefly flickering to the benches, and then back to the man.
'Were you there on the day?'
Kyros breathed deeply, licking his lips, and focing a pensive look on his face - as if he was replaying the day as a tragedy in his mind. "I was. It all happened so suddenly." He looked to the ground as he spoke, an air of shame he gave off, like he was disappointed in his actions that day. In fact he was, he regretted running off from the task that day, even though if he'd stayed he would have most assuredly died. He'd been too injured to continue much longer. That thought brought his grey eyes back up to look hard at the soldier before him.
The Colchian claimed they had not found anything. That voice... Kyros narrowed his eyes. The soldier's voice did not sound masculine in the least. And he did not believe that she was not finding anything pertaining to that day. Although he trusted that the Creed would not have left any obvious traces, the way the soldier looked away as they denied their success indicated they at least had a theory. Kyros boldly moved forward. "If you share your thoughts, perhaps we can work together?" Remembering how injured he'd been that day, renewed Kyros' anger and he was growing tired of this little game. The Colchian was clearly on guard, but he did not care. This could have been the one that attacked him! And if not, then perhaps they'd be able to tell him who it was... with some creative convincing of course.
This thought in mind, Kyros made his move. One impossibly fast running stride brought him within reach! As he'd come at the soldier, the man pulled both his daggers out of their hidden places and launched a fluid and blurring attack, clear hatred burning in his grey eyes.
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'Were you there on the day?'
Kyros breathed deeply, licking his lips, and focing a pensive look on his face - as if he was replaying the day as a tragedy in his mind. "I was. It all happened so suddenly." He looked to the ground as he spoke, an air of shame he gave off, like he was disappointed in his actions that day. In fact he was, he regretted running off from the task that day, even though if he'd stayed he would have most assuredly died. He'd been too injured to continue much longer. That thought brought his grey eyes back up to look hard at the soldier before him.
The Colchian claimed they had not found anything. That voice... Kyros narrowed his eyes. The soldier's voice did not sound masculine in the least. And he did not believe that she was not finding anything pertaining to that day. Although he trusted that the Creed would not have left any obvious traces, the way the soldier looked away as they denied their success indicated they at least had a theory. Kyros boldly moved forward. "If you share your thoughts, perhaps we can work together?" Remembering how injured he'd been that day, renewed Kyros' anger and he was growing tired of this little game. The Colchian was clearly on guard, but he did not care. This could have been the one that attacked him! And if not, then perhaps they'd be able to tell him who it was... with some creative convincing of course.
This thought in mind, Kyros made his move. One impossibly fast running stride brought him within reach! As he'd come at the soldier, the man pulled both his daggers out of their hidden places and launched a fluid and blurring attack, clear hatred burning in his grey eyes.
'Were you there on the day?'
Kyros breathed deeply, licking his lips, and focing a pensive look on his face - as if he was replaying the day as a tragedy in his mind. "I was. It all happened so suddenly." He looked to the ground as he spoke, an air of shame he gave off, like he was disappointed in his actions that day. In fact he was, he regretted running off from the task that day, even though if he'd stayed he would have most assuredly died. He'd been too injured to continue much longer. That thought brought his grey eyes back up to look hard at the soldier before him.
The Colchian claimed they had not found anything. That voice... Kyros narrowed his eyes. The soldier's voice did not sound masculine in the least. And he did not believe that she was not finding anything pertaining to that day. Although he trusted that the Creed would not have left any obvious traces, the way the soldier looked away as they denied their success indicated they at least had a theory. Kyros boldly moved forward. "If you share your thoughts, perhaps we can work together?" Remembering how injured he'd been that day, renewed Kyros' anger and he was growing tired of this little game. The Colchian was clearly on guard, but he did not care. This could have been the one that attacked him! And if not, then perhaps they'd be able to tell him who it was... with some creative convincing of course.
This thought in mind, Kyros made his move. One impossibly fast running stride brought him within reach! As he'd come at the soldier, the man pulled both his daggers out of their hidden places and launched a fluid and blurring attack, clear hatred burning in his grey eyes.
The moment the other said he was, Nike's senses grew keener, even more so. Many of the people she had spoken to in passing had mentioned a fear of going back to the Circus, a deep memory imprinted upon them when the Creed descended unannounced and surprising the general populace who had all gathered for what had supposed to be a joyous occasion, but had ended in absolute disaster. The day's events still had lingering affects on Taengea as a whole, and to date, none of the events had been joyous. So why would this young man be here?
Curious now, her eyes lingered on the male's even as she used the other to observe the stands as she had said she would. "Perhaps." she replied vaguely on his suggestion, but Nike was unwilling and would unlikely 'share her thoughts' as he suggested. Anything she found would only be shared to the young King and her general, her values forbidding her to just spill information from anyone else.
Before the woman could press further however, she was taken by surprise when a flash of movement had this mysterious male moving in a blur towards her. Nike caught the glint of a pair of daggers being drawn, and had only enough time to jump out of the way. But even then, due to the surprise factor the other had in his advantage, the edges of one of his daggers grazed her upper arm, earning a sharp hiss of pain as Nike twisted on the balls of her feet, and then swiftly reached back to draw her longsword.
The smooth sound of steel against steel had her longsword drawn and held in defense in front of her, but even then Nike did not attack - merely held to defend as she asked loudly. "What in God's name is your problem?" she stated, her voice clearly showing her irritation even as she eyed the man carefully. She wouldn't attack to cause harm, but she had no qualms about defending her ownself.
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The moment the other said he was, Nike's senses grew keener, even more so. Many of the people she had spoken to in passing had mentioned a fear of going back to the Circus, a deep memory imprinted upon them when the Creed descended unannounced and surprising the general populace who had all gathered for what had supposed to be a joyous occasion, but had ended in absolute disaster. The day's events still had lingering affects on Taengea as a whole, and to date, none of the events had been joyous. So why would this young man be here?
Curious now, her eyes lingered on the male's even as she used the other to observe the stands as she had said she would. "Perhaps." she replied vaguely on his suggestion, but Nike was unwilling and would unlikely 'share her thoughts' as he suggested. Anything she found would only be shared to the young King and her general, her values forbidding her to just spill information from anyone else.
Before the woman could press further however, she was taken by surprise when a flash of movement had this mysterious male moving in a blur towards her. Nike caught the glint of a pair of daggers being drawn, and had only enough time to jump out of the way. But even then, due to the surprise factor the other had in his advantage, the edges of one of his daggers grazed her upper arm, earning a sharp hiss of pain as Nike twisted on the balls of her feet, and then swiftly reached back to draw her longsword.
The smooth sound of steel against steel had her longsword drawn and held in defense in front of her, but even then Nike did not attack - merely held to defend as she asked loudly. "What in God's name is your problem?" she stated, her voice clearly showing her irritation even as she eyed the man carefully. She wouldn't attack to cause harm, but she had no qualms about defending her ownself.
The moment the other said he was, Nike's senses grew keener, even more so. Many of the people she had spoken to in passing had mentioned a fear of going back to the Circus, a deep memory imprinted upon them when the Creed descended unannounced and surprising the general populace who had all gathered for what had supposed to be a joyous occasion, but had ended in absolute disaster. The day's events still had lingering affects on Taengea as a whole, and to date, none of the events had been joyous. So why would this young man be here?
Curious now, her eyes lingered on the male's even as she used the other to observe the stands as she had said she would. "Perhaps." she replied vaguely on his suggestion, but Nike was unwilling and would unlikely 'share her thoughts' as he suggested. Anything she found would only be shared to the young King and her general, her values forbidding her to just spill information from anyone else.
Before the woman could press further however, she was taken by surprise when a flash of movement had this mysterious male moving in a blur towards her. Nike caught the glint of a pair of daggers being drawn, and had only enough time to jump out of the way. But even then, due to the surprise factor the other had in his advantage, the edges of one of his daggers grazed her upper arm, earning a sharp hiss of pain as Nike twisted on the balls of her feet, and then swiftly reached back to draw her longsword.
The smooth sound of steel against steel had her longsword drawn and held in defense in front of her, but even then Nike did not attack - merely held to defend as she asked loudly. "What in God's name is your problem?" she stated, her voice clearly showing her irritation even as she eyed the man carefully. She wouldn't attack to cause harm, but she had no qualms about defending her ownself.
Kyros felt his blade cut her flesh. It wasn't deep however, and he growled at that. This was was skilled it seemed. No matter. He was confident in his training. Confident he would get the better of this soldier. He was close enough now that he could clearly see the details of her face. The higher cheekbones, the feminine cut of her features. She was a woman! Of course. That explained the softer timbre of her voice. But there was something else in that face. He recognized this Colchian soldier. "You." he growled between clenched teeth. Gone was the precept of friendly curiosity, and in it's place was controlled hatred and the promise of death. "You are my problem." He didn't elaborate further, for he wanted no connotation that would link him to the attack those months ago. No one besides Fotios knew his history, knew where he came from. Kyros meant to keep it that way. But the temptation of paying this one back for nearly killing him, for costing him his family, his place in the world because of those injuries she's inflicted on him... the temptation for revenge was too great.
He ran at her again, one hand coming in low below the blade of her weapon, the other blade swinging wide to the side of her that she held the pommel of her sword on - both daggers aiming for her hips. She couldn't block both, surely. He knew the move was reckless, but he didn't care. He didn't value his own life, not really. He had been raised to die for the cause. Survival instinct had cost him everything. This Colchian had cost him everything.
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Kyros felt his blade cut her flesh. It wasn't deep however, and he growled at that. This was was skilled it seemed. No matter. He was confident in his training. Confident he would get the better of this soldier. He was close enough now that he could clearly see the details of her face. The higher cheekbones, the feminine cut of her features. She was a woman! Of course. That explained the softer timbre of her voice. But there was something else in that face. He recognized this Colchian soldier. "You." he growled between clenched teeth. Gone was the precept of friendly curiosity, and in it's place was controlled hatred and the promise of death. "You are my problem." He didn't elaborate further, for he wanted no connotation that would link him to the attack those months ago. No one besides Fotios knew his history, knew where he came from. Kyros meant to keep it that way. But the temptation of paying this one back for nearly killing him, for costing him his family, his place in the world because of those injuries she's inflicted on him... the temptation for revenge was too great.
He ran at her again, one hand coming in low below the blade of her weapon, the other blade swinging wide to the side of her that she held the pommel of her sword on - both daggers aiming for her hips. She couldn't block both, surely. He knew the move was reckless, but he didn't care. He didn't value his own life, not really. He had been raised to die for the cause. Survival instinct had cost him everything. This Colchian had cost him everything.
Kyros felt his blade cut her flesh. It wasn't deep however, and he growled at that. This was was skilled it seemed. No matter. He was confident in his training. Confident he would get the better of this soldier. He was close enough now that he could clearly see the details of her face. The higher cheekbones, the feminine cut of her features. She was a woman! Of course. That explained the softer timbre of her voice. But there was something else in that face. He recognized this Colchian soldier. "You." he growled between clenched teeth. Gone was the precept of friendly curiosity, and in it's place was controlled hatred and the promise of death. "You are my problem." He didn't elaborate further, for he wanted no connotation that would link him to the attack those months ago. No one besides Fotios knew his history, knew where he came from. Kyros meant to keep it that way. But the temptation of paying this one back for nearly killing him, for costing him his family, his place in the world because of those injuries she's inflicted on him... the temptation for revenge was too great.
He ran at her again, one hand coming in low below the blade of her weapon, the other blade swinging wide to the side of her that she held the pommel of her sword on - both daggers aiming for her hips. She couldn't block both, surely. He knew the move was reckless, but he didn't care. He didn't value his own life, not really. He had been raised to die for the cause. Survival instinct had cost him everything. This Colchian had cost him everything.
Honestly, Nike couldn't say she was entirely surprised, was she? The man had been dodgy since he had first turned up here. Nike already knew access to the Circus was highly limited ever since the attack, which meant the man had to have entered through less then savory ways... ways in which Nike did not wish to further find out. But her wariness due to the other's appearance meant that despite being caught by surprise, she still reacted quickly enough with her eyes trained on the other male.
With adrenaline in her, the pain in her flesh was barely felt as she focused on the sudden attack of the other, frowning at his growl. "How? I barely-" her sentence was cut off halfway as he ran at her. Knowning better then to just run, for she may as well try and outrun an angry bull, instead Nike waited until the last possible second before ducking low and rolling her body on the ground to trip the other male.
Using the momentum of her roll, the woman rolled back on her feet and pivoted on the balls of her feet to face him again, her sword still held in a defensive position as she yelled at him angrily. "I don't know who in Tartarus's name you are!" Her frustration could clearly be heard as she took a few steps backwards, her eyes still squinting with a frown as she tried to place face to a name or an occasion, but failed. "Maybe try telling me what are you trying to kill me for?"
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Honestly, Nike couldn't say she was entirely surprised, was she? The man had been dodgy since he had first turned up here. Nike already knew access to the Circus was highly limited ever since the attack, which meant the man had to have entered through less then savory ways... ways in which Nike did not wish to further find out. But her wariness due to the other's appearance meant that despite being caught by surprise, she still reacted quickly enough with her eyes trained on the other male.
With adrenaline in her, the pain in her flesh was barely felt as she focused on the sudden attack of the other, frowning at his growl. "How? I barely-" her sentence was cut off halfway as he ran at her. Knowning better then to just run, for she may as well try and outrun an angry bull, instead Nike waited until the last possible second before ducking low and rolling her body on the ground to trip the other male.
Using the momentum of her roll, the woman rolled back on her feet and pivoted on the balls of her feet to face him again, her sword still held in a defensive position as she yelled at him angrily. "I don't know who in Tartarus's name you are!" Her frustration could clearly be heard as she took a few steps backwards, her eyes still squinting with a frown as she tried to place face to a name or an occasion, but failed. "Maybe try telling me what are you trying to kill me for?"
Honestly, Nike couldn't say she was entirely surprised, was she? The man had been dodgy since he had first turned up here. Nike already knew access to the Circus was highly limited ever since the attack, which meant the man had to have entered through less then savory ways... ways in which Nike did not wish to further find out. But her wariness due to the other's appearance meant that despite being caught by surprise, she still reacted quickly enough with her eyes trained on the other male.
With adrenaline in her, the pain in her flesh was barely felt as she focused on the sudden attack of the other, frowning at his growl. "How? I barely-" her sentence was cut off halfway as he ran at her. Knowning better then to just run, for she may as well try and outrun an angry bull, instead Nike waited until the last possible second before ducking low and rolling her body on the ground to trip the other male.
Using the momentum of her roll, the woman rolled back on her feet and pivoted on the balls of her feet to face him again, her sword still held in a defensive position as she yelled at him angrily. "I don't know who in Tartarus's name you are!" Her frustration could clearly be heard as she took a few steps backwards, her eyes still squinting with a frown as she tried to place face to a name or an occasion, but failed. "Maybe try telling me what are you trying to kill me for?"
The Colchian’s rolling maneuver might have worked on a normal man. But Kyros had been trained by the best, and he was faster than a normal man. Just as Nike’s feet swept out to trip him, the mercenary lept into the air and the soldier’s feet caught nothing but air. Kyros used his momentum to twist and throw himself to the side of his opponent.
’I don’t know who in Tarterus’ name you are! Maybe try telling me what are you trying to kill me for?’
Once again, they were face to face, weapons bared between them. ”You cost me everything,” he growled through clenched teeth. He didn’t bother to explain further. Bursting into motion again, moving faster than any man should be able to move, Kyros threw himself at the soldier, shining dagger blades leading the way. The Colchian’s defenses were good, but Kyros was certain that she would tire and slow long before he would.
The ring of battle must have alerted the guards outside, for the voices of alarm rang out from across the arena. Daggers locked on sword, Kyros growled in frustration before retreating. As much as he wanted to make this one pay for what she’d done to him, the mercenary could ill afford to be apprehended by the authorities. His ‘master’ would not be pleased and would likely arrange for his death. Before the guards could get close enough to see his face, Kyros dogged any attempts the woman made to keep him from escaping, and ran along the stands, ducking behind a supporting pole to break the line of sight. Melting into the shadows as he was trained from a young age, and virtually disappearing.
Kyros didn’t leave the arena quite yet, though. He needed to know if these soldiers were going to be searching for him. So, he lurked just far enough away to not be detected, but close enough that his keen ears would be able to hear the conversation as the Colchian spoke to the Taengean guards. Quietly seething at being denied his vengeance.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The Colchian’s rolling maneuver might have worked on a normal man. But Kyros had been trained by the best, and he was faster than a normal man. Just as Nike’s feet swept out to trip him, the mercenary lept into the air and the soldier’s feet caught nothing but air. Kyros used his momentum to twist and throw himself to the side of his opponent.
’I don’t know who in Tarterus’ name you are! Maybe try telling me what are you trying to kill me for?’
Once again, they were face to face, weapons bared between them. ”You cost me everything,” he growled through clenched teeth. He didn’t bother to explain further. Bursting into motion again, moving faster than any man should be able to move, Kyros threw himself at the soldier, shining dagger blades leading the way. The Colchian’s defenses were good, but Kyros was certain that she would tire and slow long before he would.
The ring of battle must have alerted the guards outside, for the voices of alarm rang out from across the arena. Daggers locked on sword, Kyros growled in frustration before retreating. As much as he wanted to make this one pay for what she’d done to him, the mercenary could ill afford to be apprehended by the authorities. His ‘master’ would not be pleased and would likely arrange for his death. Before the guards could get close enough to see his face, Kyros dogged any attempts the woman made to keep him from escaping, and ran along the stands, ducking behind a supporting pole to break the line of sight. Melting into the shadows as he was trained from a young age, and virtually disappearing.
Kyros didn’t leave the arena quite yet, though. He needed to know if these soldiers were going to be searching for him. So, he lurked just far enough away to not be detected, but close enough that his keen ears would be able to hear the conversation as the Colchian spoke to the Taengean guards. Quietly seething at being denied his vengeance.
The Colchian’s rolling maneuver might have worked on a normal man. But Kyros had been trained by the best, and he was faster than a normal man. Just as Nike’s feet swept out to trip him, the mercenary lept into the air and the soldier’s feet caught nothing but air. Kyros used his momentum to twist and throw himself to the side of his opponent.
’I don’t know who in Tarterus’ name you are! Maybe try telling me what are you trying to kill me for?’
Once again, they were face to face, weapons bared between them. ”You cost me everything,” he growled through clenched teeth. He didn’t bother to explain further. Bursting into motion again, moving faster than any man should be able to move, Kyros threw himself at the soldier, shining dagger blades leading the way. The Colchian’s defenses were good, but Kyros was certain that she would tire and slow long before he would.
The ring of battle must have alerted the guards outside, for the voices of alarm rang out from across the arena. Daggers locked on sword, Kyros growled in frustration before retreating. As much as he wanted to make this one pay for what she’d done to him, the mercenary could ill afford to be apprehended by the authorities. His ‘master’ would not be pleased and would likely arrange for his death. Before the guards could get close enough to see his face, Kyros dogged any attempts the woman made to keep him from escaping, and ran along the stands, ducking behind a supporting pole to break the line of sight. Melting into the shadows as he was trained from a young age, and virtually disappearing.
Kyros didn’t leave the arena quite yet, though. He needed to know if these soldiers were going to be searching for him. So, he lurked just far enough away to not be detected, but close enough that his keen ears would be able to hear the conversation as the Colchian spoke to the Taengean guards. Quietly seething at being denied his vengeance.
Nike honestly wasn't a stranger to sudden, surprise attacks. Years of training both as military and as the personal guard to the crown prince of Colchis meant the female militant had to pretty much be prepared for anything, which also meant very little could catch her off guard these days. So what she really felt, was perplexity.
With the man being assumingly Taengean, Nike couldn't imagine having ever seen this guy in her life. She had left Taengea far too young to have any sort of long lasting enemy left in this kingdom. Was it her father's enemy? But she didn't remember ever being likened much at all to her father. Everyone always said she was the spitting image of her mother. So who in God's name was this?
Completely at a loss as to what exactly had she 'cost him', Nike parried the shining blades with her own, using gravity to allow herself to roll out of the way by absorbing some of the impact the man had came at her with.
Blowing her cropped brunette locks out of her eyes, Nike had rolled to a squatted position, fully poised to continue on the defense, but it would seem they had attracted attention. Much to the woman's surprise, the man had tried to run, and despite Nike's best attempts to give chase, he disappeared along the stands before her winded self could catch up, and eventually as the newly entered guards caught up to her, she could only frown in the direction he had disappeared.
"Dark hair. Male." she murmured when asked for a description, but eventually decided to leave it to the Taengean guards. This wasn't her land afteral.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Nike honestly wasn't a stranger to sudden, surprise attacks. Years of training both as military and as the personal guard to the crown prince of Colchis meant the female militant had to pretty much be prepared for anything, which also meant very little could catch her off guard these days. So what she really felt, was perplexity.
With the man being assumingly Taengean, Nike couldn't imagine having ever seen this guy in her life. She had left Taengea far too young to have any sort of long lasting enemy left in this kingdom. Was it her father's enemy? But she didn't remember ever being likened much at all to her father. Everyone always said she was the spitting image of her mother. So who in God's name was this?
Completely at a loss as to what exactly had she 'cost him', Nike parried the shining blades with her own, using gravity to allow herself to roll out of the way by absorbing some of the impact the man had came at her with.
Blowing her cropped brunette locks out of her eyes, Nike had rolled to a squatted position, fully poised to continue on the defense, but it would seem they had attracted attention. Much to the woman's surprise, the man had tried to run, and despite Nike's best attempts to give chase, he disappeared along the stands before her winded self could catch up, and eventually as the newly entered guards caught up to her, she could only frown in the direction he had disappeared.
"Dark hair. Male." she murmured when asked for a description, but eventually decided to leave it to the Taengean guards. This wasn't her land afteral.
Nike honestly wasn't a stranger to sudden, surprise attacks. Years of training both as military and as the personal guard to the crown prince of Colchis meant the female militant had to pretty much be prepared for anything, which also meant very little could catch her off guard these days. So what she really felt, was perplexity.
With the man being assumingly Taengean, Nike couldn't imagine having ever seen this guy in her life. She had left Taengea far too young to have any sort of long lasting enemy left in this kingdom. Was it her father's enemy? But she didn't remember ever being likened much at all to her father. Everyone always said she was the spitting image of her mother. So who in God's name was this?
Completely at a loss as to what exactly had she 'cost him', Nike parried the shining blades with her own, using gravity to allow herself to roll out of the way by absorbing some of the impact the man had came at her with.
Blowing her cropped brunette locks out of her eyes, Nike had rolled to a squatted position, fully poised to continue on the defense, but it would seem they had attracted attention. Much to the woman's surprise, the man had tried to run, and despite Nike's best attempts to give chase, he disappeared along the stands before her winded self could catch up, and eventually as the newly entered guards caught up to her, she could only frown in the direction he had disappeared.
"Dark hair. Male." she murmured when asked for a description, but eventually decided to leave it to the Taengean guards. This wasn't her land afteral.