After another moment of circling, Tobias opened his mouth to try and reason with his opponent. "Hey, look, neither of us want to do this. How about you just -"

The man cut him off with a swing of his blade. Tobias just barely jerked out of the way of the attack and answered with one of his own, shifting to a reverse grip and attempting to strike diagonally - the other rogue, unfortunately, stepped back before the blow landed. This became their new equilibrium: a cautious strike and a hurried dodge, a stab and a block, and it continued for a few moments or a thousand years, give or take.

Tobias brought the knife high to fake a cut then retracted, changed his grip again, thrust it forward under the man's hurried guard. Blade met body with a strange, sickening noise, and the other man grunted in pain and surprise as the stab connected on his abdomen. Pain and fury played across his face and he lunged forward with a cry advancing on Tobias and slashing with every step. Tobias matched his pace hurriedly, stepping back from the first cut, the second - 

The third, though, came with two steps instead of one. The knife came diagonally down and across Tobias's chest, leaving a line of white-hot pain as it passed. Clutching his wound, Tobias staggered back, hunched over and still trying to hold the knife out threateningly. 

His opponent advanced again, confident, looking to finish the conflict quickly. He aimed an overhead stab down at Tobias, whose arm barely shot up to make contact with his in time to prevent it. The two men struggled with each other for a moment, every second bringing the red-stained blade perilously closer to Tobias's face.

Tobias lunged forward in a headbutt, cracking the two rogue's skulls together hard. The world went white, and the men staggered apart, cradling their heads. Tobias was just shaking clarity back into his vision when the other man's tackle hit him.

They crashed to the ground in a heap, sending the knives clattering away. Bloody, wounded, they struggled with each other. Tobias brought his fist up and punched the other man in the face. The first hit snapped his head back. The second broke his nose. The third crashed into his teeth, mingling blood from the other man's mouth and Tobias's split knuckles all across the scene. 

His opponent lashed out an elbow, made Tobias's head bounce off the ground painfully. Before he could react, he'd been rolled to his back and his foe was on top of him, crushing him. The smell of blood and sweat and fear was inescapable as the other rogue wrapped his hands around Tobias's throat and began to squeeze.

Tobias fumbled for the dagger in his belt, but his arm was pinned under the man's weight. He clawed at the man's back with his free hand, he thrashed and spit, he tried to bite at his opponent's arms, anything to relieve the crushing pressure closing around his neck. Tobias gasped for air and found none. Everything was beginning to fade, and the last thing Tobias would see would be the sneering, bloody, broken, triumphant face of the man who'd just choked his life out.

Fumbling, Tobias brought his hand up, jerking it ever higher up the other man's body. To him, it must have seemed like the dumb animal flailing of the nearly deceased, a plea for mercy in some curious language without words.

Just as the world was going black, Tobias jammed his thumb as far as it would go into the man's eye.

The other rogue screamed and fell back clutching his face. The terrible pressure was removed, and Tobias gasped for breath as he bucked with his body, sending his foe spilling off and to the floor. Tobias was on him in another moment, the knife from his belt in hand. He stabbed downward - once, twice, four times, seven. He lost count after that.

When the body of the other rogue was finally still, Tobias rolled off him and leaned against the wall of the alley. The knife slipped from his grasp as the terrible pain from the gash in his chest made him grit his teeth. Clutching his wound, Tobias shook and struggled, attempting to work his way back to his feet. He was barely squatting when he slipped in a pool of blood and was sent spilling back down again.

Trying to hold his wound shut, coated in the blood of two men, sucking for oxygen with every frantic breath, Tobias rested his head against the wall at his back.