The Amateur Games. -[Lyrt]-

[Amur]

Solomon sighed happily as he shook his long wyvern-skin coat off after removing it from a hidden area within the hidden base-camp he was at. It had been far too long since he had donned his favourite item of clothing –and in a technical sense, armour- and while he was happy simply to look at it once more, he was equally dismayed to find that it had acquired a fine layer of dust. Not the most difficult thing to clean from the coat, but still, he disliked seeing it fall to such disarray, however, with several quick shakes he managed to clean his coat and then sat, simply gazing almost lovingly at it.

He shook his head sharply, no; he didn’t have the time for that.

Swiftly he threw his coat around his shoulders and then spent several seconds adjusting it slightly, just to make sure that it sat comfortably on his form before he raised the hood of the garment which subsequently cloaked his face in shadow.

He nodded his head gently and spent several further seconds retrieving his hunting-bow and a quiver of arrows before setting them on the ground next to his feet and retrieving a small black shock-proof case from within another hidden compartment.

He opened the case and took note of the three small vials containing the explosive compound; the mixture aged enough to be of a dark green colour. He nodded to himself and closed the case carefully, placing it in the correct pouch secured to his belt. It had taken the amateurs almost eight months, but once more they were back after him. And this time their numbers were greater, fortunately however, there were only a small group of them on his trail. And, they were terrible hunters, the lot of them.

Solomon rolled his shoulders as he stood up straight, taking an extra moment to make sure that his hidden base-camp and everything about it was still well hidden before picking his holstered hunting-bow up from the ground. He was familiar enough with the intricate buckling of his hunting-bows holster to be able to secure it over the top of his coat so that his bow was secured on his lower back within only a short span of seconds.

He spent the next several seconds making minor adjustments to his coat so that he was comfortable before he drew his hunting bow and opened it. The custom-craft bow opened silently, allowing Solomon a small satisfactory nod. Good, the mechanisms were still in good order. He pulled back on the bow-string several times and then took a dummy-shot before allowing himself another small satisfactory nod. Everything was all in working order.

He closed the bow –which was as silent an action as opening it was- and then returned it to its holster on his lower back. He was just about ready to face any threat.

He picked up the quiver of arrows and secured them in place as he strolled casually away from his hidden encampment. He allowed himself to gain some distance before stopping abruptly and turning to look at it. He nodded, yes, it was still hidden and invisible to onlookers, and he could depart without fear of anyone simply stumbling across it.

He didn’t react to the familiar sound of small wing-beats and the familiar weight on his shoulder as Aimé landed gently on his shoulder.

“What’s our distance?”
He felt Aimé shift almost uncomfortably before he answered.

“The greedy-wingless are behind by several days.”
Solomon nodded, he knew Aimé well enough to be familiar with the terms he used for various things. So, Solomon still had a several day head-start over the bounty hunters. This would prove to be quite the advantage; he had his destination in mind. And if his thoughts on the place he was heading towards were correct, a large number of these commoners would turn tail and run before following him.

“Solomon, I’m scared.”
Solomon scoffed loudly at Aimé’s comment, wondering if there was ever a time when the damned bird wasn’t scared. However, he sighed. There was a high chance that Aimé would prove to be little more than a hindrance to Solomon beyond this point; he already had all the information that he needed anyway.

“Then go back to Empire Nirvana, coward.”
Solomon commented dryly.

He barely finished the sentence before hearing Aimé chirruping lightly and then seeing him fly away rapidly. Solomon blinked.

“Fickle little bas-”
He shook his head, reminding himself mentally that he shouldn’t have expected Aimé to do anything more. The coward always chose to run away whenever things started looking even the slightest bit complicated. A trait that Solomon still blamed Alastor for, the man had clearly coddled Aimé during his younger years.

He shrugged; nothing could be done about it now. Aimé was highly unlikely to bother learning magic when he continued leaning on the reputation of other’s in order to make himself feel safe.

And with that, he continued walking in his desired direction.
---

Solomon flinched and instinctively covered his face with his arm as the tree he had been perched upon was torn from the ground as the wyvern struck it with its talons. He lowered his arm to be greeted with a sight more terrifying than any he had beheld before; the wyvern was stood simply looking at him.

Solomon backed away, shrinking slightly as he did so... But not once did he break eye-contact... No, he couldn’t break eye-contact. Its eyes had an almost hypnotic quality to them. The gleam of predatory intelligence, coupled with their natural luminescence gave the wyvern’s eyes a haunting look, one that threatened to freeze Solomon in place... But, he fought his natural instinct to stop moving, he fought his natural instinct to run, if he turned his back he was as good as dead.

He clutched his knives tightly and rose to his full height. And then, he imitated the first move that one wyvern would make toward another when they were fighting over territory. He ground the toe of his boot into the ground in a small circular motion before roughly pushing back the same foot behind him a short distance, only to bring it back and once more trace a rough circle in the ground with his foot.

The wyvern raised and then cocked its head at Solomon’s action, almost as if it knew what he was trying to do, but couldn’t believe what it was seeing. Solomon didn’t allow himself time to pause, swiftly he tore forward, keeping his knives at the ready-

“Ich werde mich nicht zu sterben, wenn diese üblen echsen!”
Solomon shouted out as he sat bolt upright, beads of cold sweat trickling down his face. Breathing heavily Solomon allowed himself to sit back slowly and ran his hands down his face, he hated sleeping. The nightmares of that night still haunted him, and each one was as vivid within his mind as it had been after he had awoken from having his head put back together.

He leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree he had been sleeping in, it was still dark, and judging by the absolute silence around him, he was still very alone. Good, the amateurs hadn’t found him yet. He adjusted his heavy-set hood just to make sure that his face was still cloaked in shadow and then simply sat in silence.

His plan here was simple; he had now taken roost around the edge of the forest known as Du Weldenvarden, somewhere nearby –but not next to- the elven city of Kirtan. His aim was to put as many of the amateurs off of chasing after him as he could before they actually got to him, and knowing the feelings of the elves towards humans Solomon had at least some confidence that he would at least thin the proverbial herd when they found out where he was.

Of course, he had, had to take the elves hatred into consideration when he had hidden here as well. He didn’t dare venture near the cities, and he kept himself as close to the edge of the forest as possible to allow for a quick escape should the need for one arise. And just to make sure that he was as out-of-sight as possible Solomon had taken his usual tact of hiding within the trees, and the trees here were...

Solomon couldn’t help but be amused by the irony that it was the territory of the elves that offered some of the best hunting ground that this land had to offer.

He shifted his position, taking the more comfortable squat-like stance that made moving from perch-to-perch that little bit easier. And in silence he scanned the ground, no sign of movement, and no tell-tale sign of makeshift encampments. Which meant that the amateurs had yet to catch up, but there was little doubt in Solomon’s mind that they were close, the time was fast drawing near for Solomon to hunt once more.

... And it was glorious!

[Lyrt]

Lyrt looked around at the mercenary headquarters her arms folded tightly to her chest as she stood about idly. The whole place was rather dingy, mold peeping out in corners and a nasty leak in the ceiling. The company was rather old, the stone fort standing for a good hundred or so years in ruin before adopted as their headquarters. Though as much as it was a mold garden the thought of what secrets would lie in such an ancient building intrigued her. Passages laying in the walls leading to secret file rooms and the like holding all sorts of hidden knowledge.

The time that it would have been built in was when there was a great deal of secrecy in what went on in places like the fort. Torture chambers, underground pools, secret staircases. If she was not so busy keeping watch over her shoulder to make sure she was not stabbed in the back she would have her ear pressed to the the wall looking around for anything out of the ordinary.

Yet this was business and she needed to stay focused on her objective. It usually was never this hard to stay focused, but her fingers were just itching to take a look around. Sighing she took a seat in one of the armchairs that sat around the large ornate desk in the center of the room and pulled her lute down from her back starting to tune it absentmindedly as she waited for the head of the company to arrive. He had some books that he would fork over for a bit of free labor.

On any day she would stay far far away from opportunities like such, they always seemed too good to be true, and they usually were. Yet books that spoke of shades in great detail were hard to come by outside of Ilirea and a chance like this was far too rare to simply pass up. If one did not take risks they would never make any progress it seemed. Fate was far too cruel a mistress at times.

Slowly she let her fingers glide over the strings letting their sweet voices call out as she bent them to her will, fingers gracefully tightening and loosening them to the correct note. There was little else to do while she waited, and there had not been any time for her to sit down and hone the strings to perfection. With every day and climate change the wood changed and so did the echos the strings produced. It was something simple to understand, and something she found not as much as a waste of her time as she had originally thought it would be.

She let herself get lost in the sound the minutes simply flying by until the door swung open and a large man stalked in a scar from his temple down to his chin his most striking feature. His cotton shirt has the sleeves torn off exposing large tanned muscular arms riddled with scars. A frightening figure to be sure, his scraggly beard giving him the look of a bear.

"I am Dolan son of none commander of this company" he said curtly looking the girl up and down a thick brow raising at the instrument perched on her hip. "I was wondering what little nightingale had flown into this-" He started on flattery a playful glint in his dark eyes. Though the look that Lyrt gave him in return would make any man flee in terror of the young lass's wrath. Her pale eyes were narrowed in response the girl placing up a cruel wall of ice to his words.

"Well..." he sat back in the chair opposite hers the desk the only thing separating them. "I suppose I should not be so formal with you, after all we have met each other in the past. Do you remember? I am sure you were not much older than eight at the time...how many years has it been...nine? No it is only seven...I am quite sure..." The older man rested a hand to his brow letting out a loud sigh. "You father, I had heard that he disappeared. Then I hear rumors of you, yet you do look different. Very different...do tell me your story. Yahn was a good friend of mine and I am sure he would not wish for you to be doing such dirty work. I can find you something better, anything better."

Lyrt stared up at the man with dull lifeless eyes stowing the instrument away on her back immediately. She took her time to answer not sure what exactly to say. Remember the man she did, after all her memory was nearly flawless. Yet she did not want to speak to him about the past, it was no longer of any concern and called the past for a reason. If she wished to think of it she would on her own time. "He is dead" she said without the slightest hesitation nor regret in her words "I am not here for a social visit, I require what is in the books you promised."

"Very well..." Dolan looked at a slight unease from the girls straightforward answer but nonetheless pulled open a drawer and placed a stack of documents put on the desk in front of her. "There is a target with a large bounty on his head, we are placing together a group to track him down. You join it and succeed then you receive the books. That is all. You will leave immediately if you do indeed agree."

Lyrt stared up at him and gave a stiff nod picking up her pack and slinging it over her shoulder ready to leave. He had offered it for free before finding out who's child she was. Yet she would not accept charity, she was not someone to be pitied.

"Good, the group is by the gates, go meet them there...and Al-" he paused looking to her with a soft sadness in his eyes. "You are Lyrt now I suppose, whatever you choose to call yourself your father was a dear friend. My doors are always open towards you."

She left without a single glance back towards him and headed off towards the gates she was directed towards pushing the man's offer from her mind. Her work was all that mattered, distractions and emotions merely got tangled up in a web to catch herself in.

---

It was already a few weeks into the journey and Lyrt was still on edge the group she was traveling with far too naive for her tastes. Groups already were far too troublesome, just one person could drag every single one of them down. It was a horrid arrangement, the thought people relied on such things was simply preposterous.

She trudged through the forest dulling her ears to the loud laugh of the largest of the group, an ex solider named Marcus. He seemed to find the word inconspicuous...well she doubted he even understood the concept of the word. Large fires every night, leaving a trail that even a child would be able to follow.

None of the others seemed to find a single problem with such ignorant actions. The marksman of the group Leoland spent all of his time dreaming of how many women he would buy at once with the reward money. He was nearly drooling at the thought whenever he started to argue with Marcus about quality or quantity.

The worse part of the group of five men that she was left traveling with was the constant annoyance they provided poking and prodding her to play for them. Obviously she refused, it would draw far too much attention to the group if she indeed did. Instead she stayed to the shadows keeping her cloak drawn tightly around her keeping her face hidden from sight.

They were in elven territory and they were by far the most clueless people that she had come across. It was surprising that they were not found, she was rather disappointed actually. She had overestimated the power of the elves, and how closely they watched over their forest. Supposedly they had tracked him off in this direction and were getting close. But who knew how accurate Leolands tracking was.

It was night and they decided to make camp, the idiots building a large fire to warm themselves by while she stowed off in the bushes comfortable resting away from them. Loud and rowdy they were passing a wineskin around as they joked about the ease this kill was. They were all stronger than an urgual, this one man would have no chance against them. Yet in her mind even a child could topple them with a single tear.

Soon this would be over, and she would get her well earned payment of books. If it was any other person she would have accepted them without a second thought. Yet the pity in his eyes made her despise herself, she would show who was really to be pitied.

[Amur]

Solomon arched an eyebrow as he watched the group from the safety of his perch... These were the bounty hunters that had been on his trail? Solomon wondered how exactly he hadn’t already put a group of morons like this out of their misery... In fact, from where Solomon was currently perched it looked as though they were all passing around –and drinking deeply from- a wineskin. It was at that point that Solomon was unsure whether these people were trying to taunt him, or if they were just unbelievably stupid.

(He personally placed a safe-bet on the latter)

He didn’t know where to start picking apart their idiocy, from the fact they were drinking when they were supposed to be hunting him, right down to the fact they were severely limiting their own vision. Anything beyond the pool of light their fire produced would be invisible to them, it was basic hunting knowledge, how did these morons intend to capture him when they were doing a much better job of presenting Solomon with easy prey?

He smirked, once more adjusting his hood just to make sure that his face was completely concealed behind the veil of shadows it produced. Already he was taking in the scene and analysing his prey with a keen predatory eye. Only one of them was using a bow –that saved Solomon the effort of having to pick out his first target- while the rest seemed little more than the average group of soldiers. Two were equipped with swords, one with a lance and the other with an axe. He paid the one he had seen wander off a short distance little mind. For clearly it was the only one among this game with any sense.

He silently lowered himself by a branch and continued to analyse the prey before him. They seemed to be somewhat better equipped than the usual commoners that Solomon had preyed upon thus far, which was unusual... But other than that –and their unusual levels of stupidity- there was very little that made them stand-out to Solomon.

Well, now that, that was out-of-the-way Solomon could begin the hunt. He already knew his first move, and how he was going to make it. As long as they stayed within that pool of light they would be blind to most everything outside of it, and considering that Solomon’s wyvern-skin coat was black, this was going to be a very entertaining hunt.

Skilfully, Solomon removed his hunting-bow from its holster and opened it. A small smirk twisted its way across his face as the bow opened to its full length in utter silence, giving no sound to betray his presence with. He moved an arrow from his quiver and fitted it to his bow, drawing back on the string and taking aim in one fluid motion.

And never once did his stance change from its crouched-squat. He had no need to move from his perch, not yet. Not until the hunt began true.

He took aim, compensating only slightly –since Solomon had superior position- he sat with his bow primed for a long while, allowing himself a moment of silence to gage the distance and strength and direction of the wind before further compensating his aim to account for every possible factor that might cause his arrow to fly stray.

He once more held his position and his stance. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to loose his arrow; the wineskin was passed to the bow-man and that was when Solomon seized his opportunity. He loosed his arrow as his prey raised the container to its lips, as it always was, Solomon’s aim was true. And first the wineskin was torn from his prey’s grip before Solomon’s arrow found its mark in the throat of his prey.

Solomon licked his lips as the bow-man slumped to the ground and cries of shock and alarm rent the air from around the fire. Now, Solomon moved, silently he leaped up to the next branch on the tree and then made his way around the tree and leaped onto a different tree completely, making barely a sound as he shifted to his new perch.

And he didn’t stop there, no, simply moving over a single tree was not going to be enough to completely conceal his position, especially if these amateurs were competent enough to trace the flight-path of Solomon’s arrow –that he highly doubted, but why take risks?- so he continued moving until he was looking at the remaining amateurs from a completely different angle. There he waited in silence as he beheld the reactions of the encampment to their first death, and then, Solomon waited. Now, he was truly going to enjoy himself, these people wouldn’t have Taured show up to save them, so Solomon was free to enjoy the thrill of the hunt and the feel of the kill.

He had every intention of dragging this hunt out for as long as he could, his aim was to crush their morale. And then make them feel as hopeless as humanly possible before killing them all... In fact, he had every intention of whittling their numbers down slowly and then playing with the survivor before he killed them, his prey needed to learn its place.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt lay still unable to fall asleep in the small shelter she had crafted for the night. It was crude, she had not much time to set it up before crawling inside and curling up like a rabbit in its den. She was warm curled up like a child, her sleeping habits had never changed no matter how many years had passed. Little meaningless always sentiments seemed to stick the most.

Her position was well hidden from prying eyes, her cloak covering a small niche under a rock. A blanket of leaves covered the shelter keeping it discreet and almost impossible to detect. She had even gone far enough to masque her scent from any skilled trackers, they were out in elven territory and she refused to take any chances. There would be as few loose ends as possible in her small hidey hole away from the rest of the ignorant dolts.

They seemed to think of themselves as above the rest of the world, the rules that governed other not applying to themselves. Elves and humans were similar to oil and water, they stayed separate with a very clear line dividing them and only mingled in rare rare occasions and separating soon after. So when water went tromping about in the oil it would soon be pushed out, by force or choice made little difference. It was inevitable either way, the factor that matter was time.

A large outcry caught her attention and she hastily covered her ears, she had no desire to see whatever the idiots were doing now. It was likely they were all drunk and wresting again, or they could be simply raging at anything. Alcohol made people do odd things, there was an explanation of course as there always one. Yet even with the long winded scholarly description of drunkenness it still was odd to her that people could act in such a way so easily. Her father always did avoid it, and she did in fact follow his example, such pleasures were useless in her mind.

The large crash of a tree falling caught her attention and she slipped to her feet brushing off the leaves and pulling her cloak back about herself. The idiots had gone and taken down a tree now, if they wanted to get caught so badly they could have just just danced nude through the forests singing. Yet, a few days before Leoland had done just that in his drunken attempt to seduce imaginary elven women. Yet a tree was still something that did not go unnoticed in Du Weldenvarden. Well at least she assumed that it would not be.

Silently she slipped back towards the clearing aglow with the warm firelight. She could see them shouting angrily at the trees as Marcus shook his fist. A tree lay hacked down brutally, Marcus's axe was the most likely culprit. As the girl drew closer a blade sliced through the
air missing her by a hair's breadth.

"You...." Howell another one of the small group stood glaring sweat glittering on his brow as he panted. "Sneak! Where were you? Someone killed Leoland! Our tracker is dead!" He howled in rage leering down at her "just because the commander trusts you does not me I do! Sneaks stick together like vermin, you were probably working with him weren't you, VERMIN!"

Marcus reached out placing a firm hand on his shoulder looking sobered up some with shock. "Calm ya knickers" he growled "she ain't got no bow, an tha arrow didn' come from thar." The mountain of a man stared down at her as well "He dun kheeled Leoland we a thinkin."

Lyrt walked past him and stared down at the fallen archer her eyes tracing the supposed trajectory of the arrow up into the trees. Whomever it was they were above them, and the light only made them better targets. "Fire...put it out...now..." she replied scanning the trees for any sign of life. All was still, the being had either fallen impossibly still, or had hidden.

Howell's mouth opened and closed like a fish as he floundered for words. "P-put out the fire? How preposterous! The fire is the only thing keeping up warm in the cold nights spurring friendship and companionship between us!"

Marcus looked around and gave a nod as he kicked dirt over the flames "tha sneak is right, we ares a target wit it. Leoland woulda said dat! Mourn once we a done!" He glared around "cahnt move aht tha moonlight, Defence Positions!"

Lyrt stared at them as they formed a small circle weapons drawn and at the ready for any movement. At least they had stopped drinking. She stepped over the dead archers body and walked off into the trees scanning the tops for any movement, who could tell where the marksman had gone in the time after he had attacked. Yet she had a suspicion that whomever it was stayed close by, with the marksman gone he could pick them off from the trees with ease.

Reaching up she grabbed onto a branch and pulled herself up with ease starting to climb carefully. If she could get up then it would be easier to the tell how difficult it was to traverse the trees. The death was irrelevant to her job, she had to capture or kill a man and that was all. If it was the fabled Solomon who had attacked them he must be confident in his skills to chase his pursuers. Him or any elf angry for the unwelcome intruders. She took a seat on a branch staring about and drawing her cloak tighter about herself making sure to not let anything escape her eyes.

[Amur]

Their reactions had been utterly delicious, their first move was to scream and shout in the direction the arrow had come from and then. Cut down a nearby tree, Solomon managed to stop himself from chuckling at that, as if he was going to hide in the tree nearest to them. He kept a close watch on their actions, the amateur with the axe was proving to be little more than a beacon of sound for the rest of its comrades, it would be one of the last to go. If only because of the fact that it talked too much, and when it DID talk it often opted to shout.

Foolish amateurs, if they knew what was good for them, they’d shut-up their beacon of sound before it ended up costing them anything else.

He kept a very close watch on his prey as finally one tried to attack the other, exclaiming what he had to say for the world around him to hear. Solomon smirked, oh, so the amateur he had already killed jad also been a tracker? Well, that was a nice little coincidence, Solomon had dealt with that one first simply because it had been using a bow. Now, they were truly out of their depth, especially if only one of them had the necessary abilities to track.

A slowly moved his next arrow from its quiver and kept watch on his prey. His smirk broadening as one of their numbers moved away from the rest, and managed to climb to one of the lower branches on a tree nearby Solomon’s first perch. Well, that was interesting, it seemed that at least one of these morons had the intelligence required to try and think like its predator, not that it would do much to help the poor little lamb.

It lacked Solomon’s agility, it would be umable to keep up with him.

He drew in a silent breath as they finally had the sense to put out the fire. Now, here’s were things got interesting. Solomon was more at home when hunting in the dark, and the fact that he had been in the dark meant that his eyes wouldn’t need to readjust, while those amateurs.

Solomon fitted an arrow and drew back on his bow. They would adjust to the darkness, but, for the time being his prey was completely blind and even facing the wrong direction. He took aim, this time picking out the amateur with the lance –it had more range on it than the other weapons- and licked his lips as he began making the necessary compensations for the distance, vantage point and wind strength and wind direction.

He held his aim for several seconds and then released the arrow.

The shot fired in its usual silence, and once more Solomon’s aim was as good as it always was. As seconds later his selected prey dropped its weapon and fell to the ground with an arrow stuck in the side of its head. As before Solomon didn’t wait around, he immediately moved from his perch to keep his prey as off balance as possible.

He moved swiftly, his usual predatory grace allowing him to keep himself as silent as humanly possible. He moved until he was far from his previous position, his gaze mow flicking between what remained of the group and the location he knew the slightly more intelligent little lamb was watching from.

He doubted that it would have seen much, if anything of him. Solomon was a Hunter, and was more than capable of keeping himself out-of-sight, even when he was on the move. He slowly moved his next arrow from its quiver, but did not yet make a move to start aiming, his attention split between the two different locations of his prey. He stayed perched in silence, waiting for them to make their next move, waiting to see if they would adapt.

[Lyrt]

The man let out a horrible gurgle falling hard to the ground his lance scattering away from him across the forest floor. His red hair blended in with the blood leaking form the wound on the side of his head. Wide grey eyes stared out into the darkness oddly confused as if he had been squinting at something out beyond his vision.

Marcus let out a loud cry of surprise at his companions silent death suddenly breaking formation to examine the body. "Tha fletching...it's tha SAME!" he looked up triumphantly tracking the flight path of the arrow. It was incorrect once again the man not thinking that if the body fell over that they arrow did not come from the direction he had fallen. Yet his mind was far too simple for such complex things such as basic physics.

Howell grimaced staring at their fallen comrade and kicking his body with his foot. His eyes were wide flickering this way and that a grin blossoming on his lips. He leaned forward shoulders shaking in maniacal laughter. "Its the wolf! The wolf is coming to kill the sheep!" He stood raising his sword above his head continuing to giggle like a child as he waved it about like a toy.

"Ay! Dun go'an keelin us all Howell! We'll git em!" Marcus roared at him angrily watching his teammate act with such odd behavior. The mountain of a man rushed forward trying to subdue the man and stop him from potentially harming anyone.

Yet Howell continued to squirm around crying out meaningless phrases as he waved his sword about like a toy madness having taken him. "I...I WILL BECOME THE WOLF! I WILL BE THE SHEEP TO RISE UP AND KILL THE OTHER SHEEP!" He stabbed backwards the blade slipping in with a sickening squirk.

Marcus's eyes widened in surprise and he fell towards the ground his hands moving to cover the large wound in his gut. He screamed on the ground drool dripping out of the corners of his mouth as passed out of consciousness the other swordsman bolting from the clearing. Howell let out a delighted howl and scrambled laughing into the forest trying to hunt Lyrt.

"Little kitty~" he sang tromping through the woods looking for the assassin who had slipped off so suddenly. "Little kitty! Sneeeeeeaky little kitty doing sneakly things come out to play!" His sword was dragging in the dirt behind him the young man's tongue hanging out like a dog's.

Lyrt stared down at him from the tree perch cautiously making sure to keep her distance from the man. Was he mad? It would be odd if he was yet pressing and stressful matters had a tendency to rip the rational mind to shreds. Howell was a waste of air anyways, it was calming to have a reason to kill him and his death would be all the sweeter.

Slipping her fingers into a pouch strapped to her upper thigh she pulled out a small vial filled with a clear liquid. Keeping her eye on the man driven mad she waited until he had reached the base of the tree that she was in before throwing it down swiftly.

The vial spun in the air before crashing on top of his head the shards scattering about as the liquid ran down through his hair and onto his face. Howell looked around after the vial hit him eyes wide like a puppy in play swinging his sword rampant. Yet soon the man changed his tune face becoming warped with pain as he clawed at the substance trying to get it off yet only succeeding in spreading it to his hands as well they too starting to sear with pain.


Lyrt watched with a mild interest from her perch watching her latest concoction in action. It was an acid of sorts, she had spent quite a nice amount of time scribbling down notes on various observations of other acids trying to find one that fit her bill perfectly. This one in particular burned slowly and painfully while its fumes seared the nostrils, throat, and eyes.

Howell clawed at the tree his speech inaudible from the pitch he was screeching in. He stumbled around blindly dropping his sword as he waved his hands trying to see where he was going.

[Amur]

Solomon watched in silent disbelief as his prey reacted to their latest death. Never before had Solomon managed to drive a man to madness, in fact, that just added one more accomplishment to his already long list. He smiled widely; this was just far too delicious. However, it did now place a limit on his fun. Since his wonderful beacon of noise was now in the process of killing one of its own comrades itself. If this amateur thought that it was going to take Solomon’s kills from him then it had another thing coming.

He caught a flicker of movement as one of the remaining amateurs attempted to flee... Well, Solomon was most definitely not going to be allowing that. They had the audacity to try and hunt him, they would all get put in their place. He moved to immediately intercept his fleeing prey –his nice beacon of noise still functioning wonderfully- fitting his drawn arrow to his bow. He took aim, making the usual necessary compensations and then the additional compensation required when aiming at moving prey...

He loosed the arrow and watched with satisfaction as his fleeing prey fell to the ground with an arrow in the back of its head. With a nod of satisfaction Solomon turned his attention back in the direction of his beacon of noise and followed it.

He stuck to the treetops, and kept his distance as he watched the scene between the beacon of noise and its final-standing comrade. His interest was piqued by what he saw... So, the one sat in the tree had some intelligence to it... Or at least more so than the usual amateurs that Solomon had preyed on over the last year.

Solomon smirked to himself and silently left his perch, returning his hunting bow to its holster and drawing his venomous short sword from its sheath as he moved. As he silently landed on the ground he span his venomous short sword by the hilt several times before catching it in reverse-grip... Silently; he stalked his way towards his prey, whom was currently too distracted with the pain it was clearly now in to bother making sure that its back was protected.

At the last second he turned to the side, placed his free hand on the pommel of the sword and then drove it through the thigh of his prey. He didn’t allow himself much time to remain where he was, no, the other amateur had already proven that it wasn’t as stupid as the usual commoners that came his way. He moved swiftly –giving no indication to the amateur that he knew it was there- returning the sword to –its currently concealed- sheath as he ran up the trunk of the tree and onto a branch.

He remained there for several seconds, acting as though he was checking to make sure he hadn’t been seen before making his way to the higher branches. Once he had the superior position he stopped, folded his arms over his chest as he turned to face the amateur and then leaned nonchalantly against the trunk of the tree.

“I have to admit, amateur. You show very slight promise when compared to the rest of the morons I’ve killed so far. And I wouldn’t worry about that one. The venom now running through its veins will take the better part of the next upcoming day to kill, it will suffer.”
Solomon stated calmly, just to see how this amateur would react. He even made a small gesture down at the amateur, which at this point was lying on the ground, twitching violently.

“So, what are we going to do now? I still see before me living prey, the rest of the little lambs now as good as dead. You can either continue this ill-conceived hunt of yours, and hope you’ll present me with at least some entertainment before I kill you, or... You can attempt to flee and hope that you’re able to escape me. I’m not fussy about how I kill my prey, amateur. So I’ll let you choose which route to take.”
He smirked –likely unseen by his prey, given that his face was still concealed by his hood- and maintained his relaxed stance. Chuckling lightly as he allowed his prey the time to think over its decision.

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere.”

[Lyrt]

Lyrt sat watching in amusement as the swords man squirmed about on the ground his screams nearly raising the dead. Yet all the while her face was a blank slate showing no signs that she was enjoying or despising the entertainment she had been given. She brimmed with silent satisfaction at her work, the substance was perfect this time, no mistakes to be seen. It was her eighth attempt after all, all the work had to pay off sometime.

Howell continued to wail out in pain a dark wet stain rapidly growing in the front of his pants. The man's fingers dug into his face trying to claw away at his searing skin the dull sightless eyes wide in horror. He knew it was coming, his death, and he was terrified. "KIIITTTY!" he screamed out as last retort.

The girl shifted on her perch catching a slight flicker of movement in the darkness. Something so small she would almost always pass off for a tick of the eye, yet this time... There was no way to be sure with the deaths and the clean precise arrows.

A blade darted out almost in an instant and she leaned out to watch as Howell doubled over convulsing on the ground his face burred into the dirt. It was final, his death was unavoidable not that she had any interest in even remotely preventing it.

Another flicker of movement caught her eye and she turned keeping her balance on the slim branch simply waiting. She took care not to stare directly at anything significant keeping close watch out of the corner of her eye watching as a form moved towards her position. Staying still as if not noticing it she glanced back down at the brainless creature below her.

“I have to admit, amateur. You show very slight promise when compared to the rest of the morons I’ve killed so far. And I wouldn’t worry about that one. The venom now running through its veins will take the better part of the next upcoming day to kill, it will suffer.”

Lyrt turned getting a good look at the man who had been killing the rest of the idiots prancing about like children. He looked far more interesting than the poster described though his face was hidden, yet from what she could tell his hair an odd shade for his age much like her own.

“So, what are we going to do now? I still see before me living prey, the rest of the little lambs now as good as dead. You can either continue this ill-conceived hunt of yours, and hope you’ll present me with at least some entertainment before I kill you, or... You can attempt to flee and hope that you’re able to escape me. I’m not fussy about how I kill my prey, amateur. So I’ll let you choose which route to take.”

She stared up at him quietly one hand resting lightly on the hilt of her knife yet not indicating any signs of drawing it. There was no intent to just yet to attack him. First she wanted to study him, his stance, his speech, his clothes. All were vital pieces of information that would be beneficial to her. His pronunciation was good, yet an accent was there if only slightly, it could very well be natural. Yet his stance, it was nearly unreadable and so remarkable to her.

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere.”

Relaxing she straightened up staring at him with a slight curiosity contemplating what to do. It was far too soon to die, she needed a little more time before she could allow herself to pass. More importantly was the man before her, his lack of hesitation was remarkable and even more so admirable. She had nearly gotten rid of it yet not completely.

Actions in her mind spoke far louder than any word, yet now there was a situation to prove her wrong. "All the time I need?" She took a seat on the branch letting her legs dangle over the edge. "If I attack you it is without a doubt my death will come. Yet running will simply make it a game for you. I seem to be at a crossroads unable to decide."

She rested her head on her hand for a moment seeming to be in silent contemplation. Yet in a split second a white cloud grew about them the girl disappearing from view as a fire began with a loud crack from where she had been sitting moments before rapidly spreading towards Solomon. It seems actions did speak louder than words afterall.

The girl was long gone by the time the cloud had cleared moving off quickly and cautiously making sure not to leave a trail even though she was in a hurry.

[Amur]

Solomon remained silent as he stood, simply looking at his prey, waiting for it to give him its response. Not that its hesitation bothered the hunter too much, no, quite the opposite. It gave him the time to make valuable observations about the last remaining little lamb he had opted to play with before he killed. Everything from its stance, to how it reacted to his taunts, and he had to admit that this one was indeed more intelligent than the usual commoners that tried hunting him... It was able to tell that attacking him was a bad idea, and better yet, it seemed to know that he wasn’t taking it seriously.

That was simply going to make his fun that much more enjoyable. There was nothing quite like crushing the spirit of prey that knew that it was just being toyed with. There was a moment of tension as his prey seemed to be deep in thought before-

Solomon immediately made his way up to some higher branches in the tree before moving himself to another tree entirely. Watching as a cloud of white smoke engulfed the area he had been in only moments ago. His caution clearly warranted on this occasion, especially since this prey in particular had no reservations about fighting dirty. For all he knew that smoke could have been toxic.

Though, judging by the fact that his prey had left a small trail of smoke from the cloud leading in the direction it had run off in suggested that it was meant as a means of solely covering its escape. Solomon chuckled, his prey clearly having made its decision. He moved his bow from its holster and readied himself to move in the direction that his prey had run in, this was going to be fun.

“Heh, oh, little lamb. You have no idea how much I wanted you to make that decision.”
Solomon muttered to himself, licking his lips as he moved onto his next perch.

“Very well, my prey... Let’s play.”
He chuckled to himself once more and continued swiftly moving in the direction that he knew his prey had run off in. He didn’t need to worry about fully losing track of it; he was a Hunter, after all. He knew how to track and stalk his prey with accuracy that only a predator of his natural skill could, his prey was lost, and Solomon was perfectly content to play a little game of cat-and-mouse with it until he tired of his prey and ultimately put it out of its misery.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt kept moving through the woods at a steady pace her heart still at a steady rate while she breathed with an odd ease for the rate she was moving at. She needed to get a good distance between herself and...Solomon if she wanted to have any chance at all. It was a given that luck would not be on her side, and there was good reason to be paranoid. She herself was skilled, yet there was a gap between their skills that she had not even ad the slightest suspicion of.

Yet it excited her, something to aspire to, something to surpass. There had never been anything like that before, never been anything she had to stride to overcome. It was a thrilling concept to consider, a goal made everything more relevant and competitive.

Slowly the sun began to rise off in the east the girl keeping her back to it as she headed west through the forest. Osilon was far off from their position so running off towards the city would not be an option to consider.

Dark clouds began to roll in suddenly covering the gradually lightening sky thunder rolling off in the distance and moving closer quickly. It began as a drizzle, and then began to pour down turning the soft ground to mud. Her pace began to slow the mud bogging her down. Yet the rain washed any tracks she may had left, it all balanced out.

Hearing a river off in the distance Lyrt moved off towards it the compiled fatigue of the last few nights catching up with her quickly. She walked along it a large tree with its roots handing over the water quickly catching her eye. Slipping down into the water she waded towards it taking refuge for a moment in the river examining it carefully. The roots clawed back into the bank creating a small ledge hidden unless anyone was looking for if specifically.

Letting out a soft sigh she climbed up onto it pulling off her cloak and tossing it out into the water to let it flow downstream masking her trail. Lyrt rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes staying alert while she took a short nap.

[Amur]

Solomon moved through the treetops with the usual predatory grace granted to him through years of intensive training and practical hunts. The silence he moved in was almost absolute; his effect on the terrain he travelled through was minimal, the thrill of the hunt still as intoxicating to him now as it had been when he had made his first ever kill. This prey was clearly more skilled than the usual sorry wretches that Solomon encountered; there was simply no way for him to deny that now, it would only make the eventual kill all the sweeter.

He noticed distantly that the sun had started rising, giving way to the dawn, painting what little of the sky he could see a fiery red. He ignored it, regardless of the hour Solomon was more than capable of making himself invisible using nothing more than the terrain he had at his disposal. His skill was unmatched, he had no equal, everything else was prey, nothing more, nor would it ever be anything more.

Every twist and turn his prey took, every effort it made to try and lose him was wasted, Solomon knew to always keep his prey in sight and knew exactly how to accomplish that. Nothing ever escaped from him, and while this one may have been more skilled and more intelligent than his last lot of little lambs had been, it was still nowhere near his level.

In his focus Solomon had missed the dark storm clouds gathering in the sky, and was only alerted to the sudden change in weather when he heard a crash of thunder off in the distance. He could only sigh quietly to himself as it then began raining, nothing to worry about, he already had the heavyset hood of his wyvern-skin coat up, however, the rain had a tendency to distort vision and make faraway objects difficult to keep track of.

He redoubled his speed, keeping himself a slight bit closer to his prey in order to prevent the rain from obscuring his vision of it too much.

The chase continued for some long moments, until eventually Solomon slowed himself and simply watched the actions of his Prey. They were close to a river –one which Solomon could see very clearly from his perch- and his prey was slowing down. Solomon licked his lips, things were coming together very nicely indeed. This hunt was almost over...

He returned his bow to its holster and moved closer to the tree that his prey had seemingly taken refuge at and looked down. He had to admit, he was impressed with its ability to think on its feet and use the terrain to its advantage, had Solomon not been the superior being here, its tactic might have very well worked and thrown Solomon from its trail. He smirked, no, this hunt was not yet over, he wanted to play with his prey some more.

He moved away from the tree and then silently made his way to the ground, leaning on a nearby tree in a position that would force his prey to leave the safety of the little hide-away it had found for itself in order to see him.

“Oh, little lamb! How foolish do you think me to be? I know where you’re hiding, but I’m not done playing with you yet my prey! And, since I’m enjoying myself I’ll even let you have a small head-start if you leave your little den now. What else have you got to lose?”
Solomon yelled out, taunting his prey as it hid, telling it just how little he thought of it without needing to insult it so directly, they were still in the forest, his prey had nowhere to escape to... Now, now Solomon was just toying with his prey outright.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt lay asleep her head resting on her knees in the small niche that she had found. Comfort was not a priority, it never had been. Comfort was unneeded, a useless luxury that waisted time and did little in return. It did not matter where, simply resting the body and mind was a priority.

She did not dream, they had never come to her since the spirit had attacked her. It had been so long that she had nearly forgotten what it was like to do so. It was an odd feeling to not remember something fully, it was there on the tip of her tongue. At the end no matter how hard she strained in an effort to remember, the thought simply flew farther from her grasp.

“Oh, little lamb! How foolish do you think me to be? I know where you’re hiding, but I’m not done playing with you yet my prey! And, since I’m enjoying myself I’ll even let you have a small head-start if you leave your little den now. What else have you got to lose?”

The voice rang out instantly rousing her from her slumber the silver eyes flying open at the noise. It had not been too long of a nap, yet it was long enough all the same. With the rest her movements would be swifter, cleaner, and far more precise. It would only take a little sleep to set her straight, she had completed jobs with less sleep than this before.

The rain was her largest problem, it caused visibility problems first and foremost. Mobility was a close second, the mud would cause problems with her feet's hold on the ground. Any of her various concoctions that were powder based would be useless with the air too damp, same with the liquids and becoming diluted.

Her heart sped up in excitement at the dilemma, she would not die. She simply could not until she completed all that was needed. Yet getting out of the situation would be a test like none other. It would be almost 'fun' from here.

Reaching out she dug her hand into the soft dirt at the back of her small hideyhole and started to lightly claw at it. It was moist, the dirt easily being shoved aside as she started to dig a small tunnel. With diligence and a few minutes of silence there was a large enough opening for her to fit through the roots down into the rushing waters. Fat globs of dirt fell down from the small opening clouding up the water.

Without a second thought she slipped through with only the slightest difficulty and slid into the water without the slightest splash. Taking a deep breath she dove under the surface swimming swiftly with the current. Once she was around the bend she swam up to take a breath before slipping back down into the depths.

[Amur]

Solomon stood in wait for longer than he would have liked, however, he was having far too much fun simply playing with this one to let something as simple as the time he spent waiting for it to make up its mind bother him. He heard the sound of splashing even over the steady beat of the rain and cautiously edged his way toward the area where his prey was hiding. He spent several seconds watching as it dug its way out of where it was hiding before managing to silently lower itself into the water soundlessly.

Solomon smiled widely and immediately made his way back into the trees. This one was definitely proving to be a more interesting hunt, for he was actually hunting it. He looked down into the water, closely following the slowly moving form of his prey –which, given the current circumstances was a slight bit more difficult to spot- allowing himself to get a short distance ahead of it, and then allowing it to retake its apparent “lead” before moving to chase it once more.

He was already running various ways to halt its advance and then multiple ways in which he could taunt it through his mind. The possibilities were endless. He paid attention as his prey briefly broke the surface of the water in order to take a breath before descending back beneath the surface of the water.

Solomon chuckled... Of course, it wouldn’t be able to swim forever, and water wasn’t exactly a human’s “element”, Solomon had this one backing itself into a corner, it was just a matter of time before it would be forced to return to the land or risk drowning itself. And regardless of the choice it made, Solomon would be there to ensure that it knew its place before it died, right now, it was just a matter of positioning and waiting.

He moved with renewed speed, pulling himself ahead of his prey and kept his pace measured, stopping every few seconds to check back on his prey. He smirked to himself once more and swiftly lowered himself to the ground and waited, it took only another several seconds before his prey broke the surface of the water once again. This was going well, the more frequently it came up for air the more it would tire itself out.

“Nice plan, o’ little lamb. But you’ve backed yourself into a corner, haven’t you!? You’ll have to leave the water eventually or you’ll eventually drown yourself! Why not cut your losses and face me!? I promise I’ll try not to make you suffer too much when I come around to killing you!”
He sneered in its direction, offering his prey a chance to come back onto the land. He raised his hands to his hood and adjusted it slightly, making sure that it continued to cast a shadow over his face. The rain continued to fall, forcing Solomon to shout to be heard over the noise it made, there was still quite a distance between him and his prey after all.

“You never know! You might actually impress me enough to earn a painless death! Anything’s possible, little lamb!”

[Lyrt]

It only took mere moments for her to realize that Solomon had realized she had taken another route to escape. She watched him carefully ducking back under the water to get a few more feet away listening to his words absentmindedly.

“Nice plan, o’ little lamb. But you’ve backed yourself into a corner, haven’t you!? You’ll have to leave the water eventually or you’ll eventually drown yourself! Why not cut your losses and face me!? I promise I’ll try not to make you suffer too much when I come around to killing you!”

He was right, a death in the water was dull. There was no point in a death without the thrill of the kill. If no blood was shed the death would be dull, the water cold and lifeless with the blood vibrant and comforting to the touch.

“You never know! You might actually impress me enough to earn a painless death! Anything’s possible, little lamb!”

She dove to the right swimming up onto the opposite bank and taking a seat almost lazily kicking her feet in the water. Lyrt stared at him taking note of his hood adjustment. His likeness was already posted in nearly every city, it was not like she would forget such unique features so there was no reason to go to the trouble of hiding it.

Setting her bag down at her side she stuck her hand in and rifled about making sure that everything inside was dry. It had taken quite a while for her to find a good enough method to do so. Luckily it seemed to work and her books were dry.

Directing her gaze back at the man she pulled out a piece of jerky chewing on it quietly as her steely gaze looked him up and down. Pausing for a moment she pulled the meat out of her mouth and tilted her head to the side in silent contemplation.

"Baaa..." she called across the water her face blank as she went back to chewing away and staring eerily her hands moving up and waving on the sides of her head to imitate a lamb's floppy ears. If this was a game she would play just as hard as he.

[Amur]

Solomon watched his prey with a keen eye as it swam to the other side of the stream it had tried to take refuge in. He smirked; indeed, this one was clearly not willing to simply give up. It even had the audacity to take a moment to itself and check to make sure that any belongings it had with it in that bag it carried around with it were still in good condition. In fact, it had the audacity to sit almost nonchalantly on the opposite side of the stream and quietly start eating what looked like a piece of dried meat.

He smirked once more; this was a brave little lamb.

It even managed to prove its bravery to Solomon once more by tilting its head to the side and imitating the bleating of a sheep. He couldn’t help it; he chuckled, his excitement building further. His prey was playing along, it was trying to taunt him back. Now this was getting good, his prey was playing along with his taunts, and then it was taunting him back... That would simply make the eventual kill just that much sweeter, he clearly had some spirit to crush and he was absolutely fine with that.

“Ja, ja! That’s it! Taunt me back, Little Lamb! This is what makes the feel of the kill all the sweeter.”
He sneered back at his prey; slowly drawing a single arrow from its quiver he held it in his hand as he removed the quiver from his lower back and set it at the base of the tree he was closest to. The branches of the trees didn’t stretch across the stream enough for him to simply jump over the obstacle, and the additional weight of the quiver of arrows would simply slow his progress, he would simply return for it later... For now, he would only need a single arrow.

He secured his selected arrow with his hunting bow before diving into the stream himself, he was in good enough shape to be able to swim the length of the stream with little difficulty. However, he did allow the current to gain him some distance from his prey. It simply wouldn’t do for Solomon to be caught in such an inferior position.

He didn’t allow himself to break the surface of the water before reaching his destination even once, he had to keep his location as discreet as possible otherwise his prey would simply move in on his position while he was vulnerable. And Solomon didn’t make mistakes quite that extreme... No, he didn’t make mistakes at all.

In a single move he broke the surface of the water and hoisted himself onto the bank that his prey was sat on. Landing himself in a low-crouched stance Solomon finally moved his hood back, now it would do nothing more than further obscure his vision after his little trip across the stream. He smirked at his prey, standing up straight after it failed to move and ran his hands through his hair, slicking back out of his face.

“Given up trying to run Little Lamb? You’re either very stupid or very brave.”
He scoffed, spreading his arms wide.

“So, I gather that you’re about ready to stand your ground and see where that gets you, Little Lamb. Since you’ve entertained me so well up to this point I’ll allow you one chance to attempt to strike me, or to start fleeing again, it’s your choice, my prey. I’ll kill you no matter which decision you make, I’m still not going anywhere.”
He sneered at his prey, keeping his stance as it was, actively daring his prey to run at him recklessly. Of course, that didn’t mean he was offering it a free hit. No, he was simply offering it the chance to make the first move, a mistake that he was going to make sure that it made.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt watched him with a stoic face her jowls moving slowly as she chewed away at the dry piece of jerky. If she really wished there was a substance she had with her that had a good possibility of killing him even with the water. It was a heavily concentrated poison and if she was lucky with her aim it could last a little while in the water before becoming too heavily dispersed in the water to be effective. Yet this was a thrilling chase....at times. Watching him move was rather dull, she was not one to think such things on a regular basis. Her occupation involved much waiting and little action at times. But with her heart still pounding from the chase, watching him swim was rather... disappointing.

She continued to watch him intently not a single movement passing her as she finished her snack and straightened up wiping her hands on her britches. It was still too hard to decide whether or not to stick a knife between his ribs or to turn tail and slip off.

“Given up trying to run Little Lamb? You’re either very stupid or very brave.”

She yawned bringing up a hand to cover her mouth, the whole affair was becoming tiresome and she wanted to get back already. The rest were dead and she might as well go back to report what had occurred to the commander. Sticking around to play was becoming far too dull quickly.

Lyrt stood her ground thinking carefully as to her next move with the current options. Fight or Flight....or both. She pulled out her knife and moved forward in a matter of seconds looking as if she was attempting to strike. Yet behind her back she held two small vials between her fingers, carefully combining them into one without loosing a drop.

The blade moved in a smooth arc as she slashed turning on her heel keeping a steady balance. With good aim she slipped closer shoving the vials forward to splash onto his forehead. The eyes were tempting but far too easy to block while the forehead was open for it to drip down in moments.

Once the deed was done she pushed off a tree with her foot and skidded through the dirt on her knees mashing an elbow up between his legs. Scrambling to her feet she took off dodging around trees and leaping over rocks trying to get some distance between them. "Baaaaaaaahahaha" she called back behind her to him in a mocking tone "This little lamb is hardly sorry Mr Wolf"

Truthfully she had no idea what was in the vials, they had just been grabbed at random. It was lucky there had been no large explosive reaction to blow off her hands. Lifting up one of the vials a little in front of her nose she let the smell waft over to her nostrils. Citric Acid in one...and saltwater in the other. Nothing dangerous but enough to blind and burn the eyes for a little.

[Amur]

Solomon allowed his prey its moment to taunt him, watching in amusement as it yawned. Well, it certainly wasn’t new to the concept of taunting, but the presentation and type of taunt it opted to use against him most definitely needed work... Solomon chuckled gently to himself, well; his prey wasn’t going to get the chance to improve, nothing survived an encounter with Solomon after all. This one would be no different.

A tense silence fell between Solomon and his prey as it seemed to be carefully considering its best method of attack. And then it moved forward with a knife in hand. Solomon’s smirk twisted maliciously, that was simply too perfect. Very few were capable of besting Solomon’s skill with a knife, and this amateur was clearly among the large number unable to match him... However, he would humour it for a moment.

He lowered his arms and assumed the appropriate stance for close-quarters-combat. Preparing to take control of the wrist of The Amateur’s knife-hand, once he had control of its arm the small “fight” was over, and The Amateur would be at Solomon’s mercy... Perhaps he would make it beg before he killed it.

He noticed a flicker of movement from his prey’s other hand as it moved closer to him. Solomon immediately moved to gain some distance from his prey and lowered his head as he did so. It was very difficult to tell, but he definitely felt something splash into his hair. He dropped to a knee and briefly looked at is prey as it span to gain some distance from him... Had it been aiming for his eyes? He couldn’t tell, whatever it had tried to flick at him was definitely liquid, but he couldn’t feel anything from it.

Though, that may have been down to the rain diluting whatever liquid his prey had flicked at him before it could be harmful to him... He didn’t have much time to plan out his next move; however, he noticed another flicker of swift movement from his prey. He had reacted too late and felt a hard impact between his legs.

His body reacted to the pain before his mind could catch up with him, his hands moved to the point of impact and he fell to his knees with his mouth agape and his eyes wide, bulging and simultaneously watering.

“... Ouch...”
Solomon whispered in a strained voice as he pitched to the side and hit the ground. His body was still reacting to the inflicted pain of its own accord and he soon found himself curling into a ball on the ground as his mind started racing to catch up with what had just happened... Clearly he had allowed his confidence to get the better of him and he had taken a hit because of that... That was embarrassing... And painful...

Solomon slowly worked himself into a kneeling position, using the nearest tree at hand to support himself... Breathing heavily Solomon very slowly pushed himself back to his feet, yet remained doubled over in pain when he managed to stand once more... Solomon growled as he waited in that position for the pain to further subside... The broken rib he had sustained at the hands of The Elf hadn’t been anywhere near this painful...

“Beh, women, evil creatures...”
Solomon grunted sourly as he finally managed to stand at his full height. He drew in a deep breath and began walking in the direction he had seen his prey retreat in, walking with a still noticeable hobble in step... His prey clearly didn’t have reservations when it came to fighting dirty, which made the hunt more thrilling... He still found the lapse in judgement humiliating, however, how had he let this prey strike him?
---

It had taken several long moments for the pain to subside to the point where Solomon was able to walk properly again, and even longer still for the pain to recede enough for him to be able to perch himself up in the trees again. Now that he was able to ignore any lingering pain he may have been in Solomon was able to run everything that had happened before his prey ran from him. He was unsure whether he should have been impressed by his prey’s insult or if he should make it suffer for comparing him to something a lowly as a wolf. Solomon was an apex predator, he was in no way comparable to a mere dog.

Nevertheless, he would make it pay for that insult later. His prey had been reckless in its escape and had left signs and trails for Solomon to follow that not even the heavy rain could hide from him. So, he had nothing to worry about, his prey was now making this easy for him... It wasn’t idiotic, no doubt it would have some kind of plan, and once Solomon had observed his prey he would disarm it of that plan and then put it in its place before he killed it... Though, he had no idea to pay it back for the strike he had sustained from it... He shook his head, he would have time for that later, but for now, he remained silently on his perch, looking down at his prey.

[Lyrt]

Stepping lightly over a gnarled tree's roots Lyrt reached up her hands deftly untying the silk cord that kept her soft silver strands up and out of her eyes. Winding the deep blue cord around her hand and keeping up her pace she leaned down picking up a sizable rock and slipping it up into her sleeve for safe keeping. He had been slowed for only a moment, and there was a need for countermeasures if he got too close again. There was far too much to be done to keep it up. The game would have to end soon enough, it was time for playtime to end. She had always wanted a wolf pelt anyways.

She blinked turning around and taking a good look about, everything seemed to be in order, no exceptional advantages visible just yet. Yet just because she couldn't see something did not mean that it necessarily was not there. Paranoia was her best friend, she had to assume that Solomon saw an advantage everywhere.

Her cloak covering her arm she wound the cord into a loop and slipped the stone down into her palm. Slipping the noose over the stone she wrapped the cord around it a few more times and knotted it securely creating a stable counterweight. If he got too close she would just strangle him with it.

Reaching a steep slope she crouched down and carefully made her way down making sure to move from rock to rock to keep her balance. The possibilities flashed across her mind as she thought of every possible situation that she could be placed into. There needed to be something universal, something that would turn the tables on the more experienced assassin. An idea slowly poked its way into her mind, the bout...it would be her victory.

[Amur]

Even after recovering from the shock and pain of the initial strike he had taken earlier it had still taken Solomon several long moments to be able to move with his usual predatory grace. And now, Solomon was angry, the strike and subsequent insult comparing him to a dog had been all his prey had needed to do in order to enrage him. Now, he was simply going to make it suffer more than he had made any of its former comrades suffer... It would need to be put in its place before Solomon killed it.

He was done playing with his prey.

He stopped and lowered himself by several branches, tearing a sizeable branch from the tree he was perched on as he lowered himself. He had several plans for getting close to his prey and there was also the chance he would require the branch as some kind of distraction. As was so often the case when prey knew that it was being hunted, prey had the irritating tendency to spot its predator when it was most on edge. If Solomon could use his prey’s own temporarily heightened senses against it then he would be able to close the distance without any difficulty.

Solomon maintained his swift pace as he moved from perch-to-perch, following every move his prey made very closely. The fact that his prey had seemingly let its hair down simply made it easier for him to stalk despite the rain.

(Though, he had to wonder where the advantage was in his prey letting its hair potentially obscure its vision... Then again, the rain would mostly render that particular disadvantage non-existent)

Solomon increased the pace he was moving it, easily keeping with the pace that his prey was setting, all he needed to do was get behind it, and this hunt would be over. He stopped briefly, taking note of the next move his prey made. A wide smile twisted its way across his lips as he saw his prey slowly starting to descend a slope. That was all the advantage he needed, he moved swiftly, moving into the higher branches of each tree he leaped into in order to make himself more difficult to spot through the thicker foliage on the higher branches.

Leaping through the tree tops Solomon was the first to reach the bottom of the slope, where he waited patiently and watched his prey as it continued to descend in his direction, as it continued to blindly walk into his waiting arms. He held the branch he had torn from an earlier tree tightly, waiting for his prey to stop moving before he made his next move. And when his prey did stop, Solomon was fast to move into position.

He moved silently to a perch almost directly above the head of his prey and then lowered himself by several branches, each move as equally silent as the last. He looked down at his still unmoving prey, and then casually dropped himself from his perch and allowed himself to fall freely toward the ground feet-first. His aim was use his prey as a “landing-pad” to break his fall which would subsequently put it at his mercy.

And if he missed... Well, that was of no consequence, he had intentionally made sure that he was low enough to the ground to avoid injuring himself. And the branch he still held in his hand was little more than a distraction, his way of giving his prey false hope. He smirked as the distance closed rapidly, this was over.

[Lyrt]

The rain started to let up, first becoming a drizzle and then just a wet mist making the slope slick with mud and leaves. Lyrt took her sweet time moving down the slope as cautiously as possible with the danger lurking somewhere over her head. She did not know if Solomon had by chance recovered from the blow she had given him, quite frankly that was not much of a concern as he would recover, and pin pointing his position first was her best plan for retaliation. She had to act before he did, had to keep just tone step ahead of him to defeat him. He was a formidable foe after all, but she would crush him into the dirt same as the others as the blow to his groin deemed him merely overconfident and underestimating the lengths she would go to for victory.

Reaching the bottom of the slope she stood her ground, carefully surveying her surroundings for any sign of the mass murderer. At this point the whole group was long dead, and good riddance to them. Five less useless beings in the world to deal with, and no reason to stick around. She just wanted the books in the end, yet after this she would head after the real ones and not the horridly translated copies that lay with the mercenaries.

Now that she thought of it there really was no reason to be doing any of this, money was no object as she rarely spent any of her earnings and her father had left quite a sum behind. Mainly it was to just pass time.

She would poison the commander with something horrible and painful for the slight annoyance he had brought on with the mission. That would be amusing to watch, the proud man on his knees begging for the antidote that she would never administer. It was only courtesy to return what had been given, which in his case was nothing.

A shadow loomed blocking out the faint light between the leaves and she knew he was there above her. An arrow? Would he shoot? It would be simple to dodge, and there had been only one in sight when she had elbowed him. Bending her knees she readied to spring away at a moments notice before she heard something falling, cutting though the air.

Immediately her gaze snapped skyward and to the falling form on top of her. There was no time to dodge nor to think, Lyrt braced herself for the impact quickly drawing a knife and pointing it skyward as the weighted cord stayed hidden wrapped around her arm.

The impact slammed her back onto the muddy ground with a large splatter, mud raining down on the two as a loud and daunting crack rang out sending goosebumps down her arms. What had broken? It took far more effort than usual to keep her face stony while her mind raced forgetting the knife that had been knocked out of her hands.

She was slightly dazed for a moment before snapping back to the matter at hand. A blue eye slowly raised to stare blankly up at the man on top of her. Leading him to a false sense of victory was her best bet to crush him.