The left hand of the silver-haired man flexed to and from a fist a few times, the armoured gauntlet that protected the blind man's forearm rattled against itself as he did so. He frowned and appeared to 'look' at his hand as he continued to flex it open and closed repeatedly. He had lost complete interest in the bandit who brandished his club much the same way as a young boy would play solider. He had no talent, no skill, no experience. If he had though, it had all been washed away from the display that the shaven-headed 'monk' put on only a couple minutes ago. A gurgle came from the bandit with the broken nose as he came to and rolled over onto his side, both his hands covering his nose and mouth as he groaned in pain.
[color=teal]”Hm, he had a harder head then I thought.”[/color]
The blind man quipped as his frown faded and a smirk reappeared across his lips. As he looked back up though, one of the other three men of the second group had taken advantage of the blind man peering at his hand, but the singing of an arrow and the piercing of flesh quickly halted his approach.

Before the bandit fell to the floor, Nomi reached up and took hold of the arrow, allowing the bandit's own body weight to free himself off the piece of ammunition. Bringing the arrow to his face, the silver-haired man sniffed the arrow head a couple of times and then shook the thin wooden  object beside his ear. This was expertly made, but made from materials a normal fletcher wouldn't usually use. The only answer to this was that the 'monk' crafted these himself. Come to think about it, the 'older version' of the shaven-headed man used a sword and a sword alone. Did this 'change' regarding Ornestoro aid him in picking up a new weapon, or had he always been a capable archer? Nomi glanced over his shoulder and stared towards the man calling himself 'Jintaru', standing as still and as solid as the hill that the bandits had walked over. He smirked as he heard the jibe come from the 'monk' and Nomi stood upright, turning his attention back onto the club-wielding bandit and the seventh member standing beside him. The eighth who clung to the kitchen hand was still standing alone atop the hill.
[color=teal]”Have you forgotten, old friend? I told you back at the tavern that I've not fought since the last war. As capable a fighter you may think I am, I'd rather not kill a Gurtha Orc and have the rest of his clan hunt me across Mor Sgiathatch. Only a fool would pick a fight with an entire orc clan, especially those who live on the Black Mountain.”[/color]

The two bandits that stood a short distance from the blind man shuffled towards each other and started to whisper together. It was unclear what exactly they were saying to one another, but the looks on their faces spoke of worry and fear. Four of their fellow bandits lay dead, a fifth had a bloodied face but was still breathing. Two of the remaining three had weapons, the man with a club, about forty years old and a taller, larger man who had a two-handed great sword in his grip, the blade blunt and dirty. As they continued to whisper, Nomi grinned and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for them to finish. The pair of bandits shuffled over towards their bleeding comrade and knelt down to whisper with him too. Only various words could be heard, including; 'retreat', 'surrender', 'kitchen boy', 'Mor Sgaithatch' and 'treasure'. The silver-haired man tilted his head and he chuckled, looking back over his shoulder to the 'monk', where he shrugged his shoulders at him before looking back towards the bandits. The bloodied nose one had gotten back up to his feet and seemed to have stopped his eyes from watering enough to be able to pick up his own weapon again, an ordinary looking soldier's longsword.

The group seemed to have finished their little chat of tactics and strategy and started to spread out around the blind man. The club-wielding bandit stood at the front with the bloodied nose taking Nomi's left and great sword went right.
[color=teal]”You should have ran away...”[/color]
Nomi muttered as the bandits all rushed in at the same time to attack. 

Due to their choice of weapons, even though they all attacked at the same time, their swing speeds differed. Bloodied nose went high, aiming his longsword for the blind man's neck. Great sword went low, trying to slice Nomi's legs off at the knees. Club bandit when for a good old fashioned overhead smash. Their plan was sound, but the man in the middle of this little situation was the unpredictable one. Suddenly he turned to his left, raising his left arm and using his armoured gauntlet to block the longsword. At the same time he twisted his hips and brought up his right knee, swinging his armoured boot around in a fast arc, smashing the top of his foot into bloodied noses nose once more, causing him to shriek and tumble to the ground, grasping his face. Flexing his left knee, Nomi hopped up into the air and stamped down on the flat edge of the great sword, ripping the weapon from the bandit's grip and causing him to stumble forwards. Lifting himself up onto his toes, the blind man twisted around as gracefully as a dancer, back the in the direction of the club-wielding bandit and with his right knee tucked into his side, Nomi threw out a hard front kick, sending the heel of his right boot into the nose of great sword, causing him to scream out and fall backwards onto his butt, before he collapsed onto his side and grabbed at his now flattened face.

With the club still in descent, Nomi switched legs, putting his weight onto his right and bringing his left leg up, knee tucked into his chest, cocked like the hammer of a flintlock rifle. With a smirk still spread from ear to ear across Nomi's face, he looked like he was having fun.
[color=teal]”TAH!!”[/color]
He suddenly yelled as he let his left kick fly, sending a side kick into the middle of the club, shattering it into splinters and causing the last bandit to stumble back in surprise. Nomi pounced and smashed both his open palms into the temples and ears of the poor bandit, causing him to screech and grasp at his ears to try and make the high-pitched ringing go away. A firm right punch sunk deep into the bandit's stomach followed by a hard left knee to the chin as he lurched forwards. The blow had enough power to lift the bandit off his feet, causing Nomi to snicker as he watched the now unconscious fool collapse in a heap in the grass before him. From the 'monk's perspective though, the whole scene would have been over in seconds. Dusting off his hands, Nomi glanced over his shoulder and gave the 'monk' a thumbs up, before a petrified wail was heard quickly disappearing down the back of the hill, the kitchen hand picking himself up off the floor from where the final bandit had thrown him.