[center][color=f7941d]M Y   F R E E D O M   F O R   A   S H I R T[/color][/center]

[color=Beige]Daen stared at the men before him. They were ill equipped, but without his pendant he would be helpless against a sword-wielding opponent. He'd learned basic sword forms in his youth, as well as basic disarming maneuvers, but he doubted he could pull any of them off with two other opponents standing so near. Perhaps one, but certainly not while the others had weapons as well. He'd be cut down before he could so much as swing the newly acquired weapon. All he had was the mark, and his brain. He looked tattered, trapped, they'd underestimate him for sure. He may not be the best swordsman, or the best fighter. But he was fast, and he'd have to use that if he wanted to survive.

Words were still falling out of the swordsman's mouth. Time slowed to a crawl as Daen began the strategic inspection of his opponents. [/color]

[color=Beige]The Swordsman[/color] 
[color=708090][i]Dented iron plate, rusted mail, doesn't take care of his equipment. Watch as he moves his arm..there, the joint of his pauldron catches on the hauberk underneath, restraining his motion. Can't swing well to the left. Watch out for the other more mobile arm with a torch.[/i][/color]

[color=Beige]The Archer[/color]
[color=708090][i]Keen eyes, taken away if I put that torch out. Slightly frayed bowstring and eight arrows in his quiver. Drawing one arrow now as the swordsman still speaks. Chewing..something, red lips, some sort of drug.[/i][/color]

[color=Beige]The Robed one[/color]
[color=708090][i] A mage for certain, I can see the strings spinning around him as he readies himself for battle. No sorcerer, a simple conjurer that throws lackluster sparkbombs and other paltry spells. Fidgety, ready to spread some flame, looks prone to accidents from the singed edges of his apparently flammable sleeves and hood. He's holding the other torch in his hand, presumably to draw easy fire from it for pyromancy.[/i][/color]

[color=F5F5DC]Time wound back to normal as Daen formulated his plan. First the helpless. [/color]

[color=DarkGray]"-o the ‘ell are you?”[/color][color=F5F5DC] the Swordsman demanded, shaking his blade angrily at Daen.

Daen Put his hands up at his sides, looking terrified and slightly relieved[/color]. 

[color=f9ad81]"Oh thank the gods,"[/color] [color=F5F5DC]A knot formed in his stomach. the gods. [/color][color=f9ad81]"I've been down here for days! I thought nobody would ever come."[/color][color=F5F5DC] Daen feigned a shake and tried to look more sallow than he was. He turned his face down slightly to make his cheeks look drawn in the torchlight. [/color]

[color=DarkGray]”He’s missin’ an eye. What the ‘eck?”[/color] [color=F5F5DC]The archer took a small step forward, seeming less threatened than before, but still wary. Daen supposed he would be wary as well if he'd found a strange man with a missing eye and a glowing mark on his face.[/color]

[color=DarkGray]”How much do ya’ reckon we can get for his clothes?”[/color] [color=F5F5DC]Said the mage quietly.[/color] [color=DarkGray]”Plus, we can’t have anyone knowin’ we were ‘ere, eh boys?”[/color] [color=F5F5DC]Daen could hear the anticipation in the Mage's voice, and watched his foot tap as adrenaline kicked in. These were men used to killing the unarmed and helpless to get what they wanted. [/color]

[color=F5F5DC]Daen widened his eye in fake surprise, fake fear.[/color] [color=f9ad81]"What? No, please! Take whatever you want, just get me out of here!" [/color]

[color=F5F5DC]The Swordsman in front laughed, his pity as fake as Daen's fear. Bloodlust hid behind those greedy eyes.[/color] [color=DarkGray]"oh-ho boys. Looks like we's got us a begga'."[/color][color=Beige] The other two men laughed dryly. The archer stepped forward and knocked an arrow but kept the bow down. Rookie mistake. [/color][color=DarkGray]"'Ows about you give us 'at fancy shirt o' yoh's then? Show us some compassion fo' savin' yeh."[/color] [color=F5F5DC]The archer and the mage laughed more at this, their nostrils flaring with uncontained laughter[/color]. 

[color=f9ad81]"Wh-what?" Daen stammered, "oh, yes of course.. I suppose I could-"[/color] [color=F5F5DC]Daen pulled the shirt over his head, and took his opening. He tossed the shirt onto the archer's head. Who in a panic, dropped his arrow onto the floor. The Swordsman turned back in surprise, unsure what had just happened. Daen jumped onto the surprised swordsman, knocking the torch from his left hand to the floor and hopping around the swordsman's left to avoid the sword-wielding right arm. The Swordsman grunted and swung without hesitation. Not a rookie then, just careless. 

The Swordsman's right pauldron caught on the mail hauberk, a stray piece of plate hooking through one of the mail's loops and hiking the hauberk upward, interfering with his swing. Daen used the hesitation and darted out with his right hand. He grabbed the swordsman's wrist and turned it up, forcing him to drop the sword into Daen's hand. The Archer had unraveled himself from the shirt and made another rookie mistake of going to pick the arrow up off the floor instead of pulling a new one from his quiver. He was feeling around the floor in the murky torchlight behind the now advancing mage. 

Daen Quickly smashed the swordsman over the back of the head with the pommel of his newly acquired sword and jumped forward just in time to avoid a fireball that streaked past where his head had been before. he hit the ground gracelessly just as the unconscious body of the swordsman slammed into the ground next to him. 

The archer had found his arrow and was knocking it again. Daen scrambled to his feet and broke into a sprint forward. He dived forward as an arrow streaked past where he'd be if he'd been standing. The archer cursed and began to pull another arrow from his quiver as Daen turned to face the two of them. His dive had been intentional, but not for the purpose of avoiding the arrow, which he'd not anticipated the archer could draw so quickly. The real reason had been to position the archer nearly between himself and the mage, who was readying another fireball to chuck at him. As the archer pawed for another arrow, the mage let fly the fireball. Daen widened his eye and the mark pulsed slightly as he reached out to the magic entwined in the fire streaking toward him. He found the string easily and tugged on it. 

The fireball [i]popped[/i], showering the archer in flecks of flame, one of which caught fire to his hair. The archer flinched and loosed his arrow slightly to the right. The arrow skimmed Daen's shoulder and smacked into the stone wall behind him, turing it into kindling. The archer yelped as the magefire began to engulf his hair. He dropped his bow and began furiously patting out the fire upon his head. Daen stood frantically and made a dash for the ladder at the other end of the room. He'd made it two rungs up when he turned and had to unravel another fireball, which again [i]popped[/i] into directionless flecks of flame that sputtered out into the air. He took a few more rungs and then  waited as the mage roared in anger and consumed the last of the fire from his torch for a massive fireball. It was obvious from his widened, enraged eyes, that the mage was having trouble controlling that much flame. Daen barely had to touch the string and the magic fell apart. 

The large fireball exploded in the mage's hand with a concussive [i]whoosh[/i] that drenched his robes in fire. He screamed and tumbled sideways, rolling along the stone floor with panic that seemed practiced, presumaly from lighting himself up before. Daen climbed the remaining rungs and pulled the rope ladder up after him. Pausing to duck quickly as the archer, whose head was now only smoking but with far less hair than before, loosed another arrow far to Daen's right. As the arrow whizzed out into the night, Daen pulled up the rest of the ladder and tossed it onto the stone roof beside him. Then he fell backwards onto the roof and panted momentarily before catching his breath. He could hear the moans of the swordsman as he awoke from unconsciousness, and the lessening screams from the mage as he managed to put out the flames that had consumed a good portion of his robes. 

Daen smiled up at the starless, moonlit sky. Feeling not quite as defenseless as before. The feeling of success was somewhat dampened by the fact that it was freezing cold, which wasn't helped by the fact that he was now missing his shirt.[/color] 
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