[color=#00B300][h3]Vent/Anne[/h3][/color]

Vent sat alone in the small tavern room he had paid for with Anne. It barely had what one would call a bed and the bed itself smelled more of piss and rot than the bathroom did. Luckily, Vent had brought a bedroll and blanket to use whenever he slept outside and could provide something to keep the both of them away from the objects in the room themselves. It was yet to be night but both Anne and Vent were tiring from their hard days. After Anne had finished her song, Vent talked to her about what it was like growing up back in Cordal. He spoke of the trees which turned a beautiful orange and whistled in the cool winds which blew down from the mountains. All Anne had to speak of was her life before Rockvale, traveling through many cities along the coast with those few merchants who were willing to tag her along.

At one point in the conversation, Vent pulled a inkwell, notebook, and quill from the small satchel he kept attached to his right hip and started taking notes of the locations Anne spoke about. [b]”What is that you are doing there Vent?[/b] Anne asked as she looked at the notebook. She had never had the time to learn how to read nor write and felt nervous now that she was around someone who could do both. Vent kept on writing in his notebook and didn’t stop to answer the question until he tore out a page and folded it over once. He slid the folded paper over to Anne and waited until she picked it up and opened. 

[b]”What you see on that paper is the alphabet of the Common tongue. Since I am here until Callie finds her people, I guess I can teach you in your spare time how to read and write. If you are willing to come with me, then we shall study the letter and words each day and you’ll practice writing. If you don’t want to come with me, then learn how to read and write on your own.”[/b] Vent said as Anne stared at the paper in obvious confusion. Rather than sitting around for her answer, Vent got up from the table of the tavern and went up to the room he had payed for to clean off the smell of sweat and blood off him. Vent’s contemplation was interrupted by the piercing screaming which came from the tavern below. In a moment of foolhardy rushing, Vent forgot to grab his sword and gloves as he ran to find the source.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Vent was granted the scene of blood pooling from the body of an old man whose stomach had obviously been pierced by a sword and the glimpse of Anne being dragged out of the Tavern, most likely unconscious. Vent rushed to meet the men dragging and was greeted by nearly fifteen men whose lust for blood was obvious and their skill in battle just as blatant as the blood which dripped from the blade of one of the bandits who was carrying Anne. Upon seeing Vent, the men readied themselves and circle around him. Many of them were wary for any trick the kid might have up his sleeve but, upon noticing his lack of weapon, dropped their guards and quickly pinned him to the ground, arms bent tightly behind his back.

[b]”Ah, so ye be the young warrior who so bested two members of my crew who were deep in their drink. Ye must be quite the warrior. That, or they twas far too drunk to even handle a wimp like you. I twouldn’t even sell ya to my most hated o’ patrons. But, I like your spunk mate. I’ll give you a choice in the matter her since I need some hands to replace the fools who you beat earlier! You kill this girl her for her trespass on my territory and join me or you die with her. What’s yer decision boy?”[/b] said a man wear clothes of much finer and less rotten quality than the others of the bandits surrounding him. It was obvious just by looking at his manner that the man was the leader of the bandits but Vent showed no fear to the man. In an act of pure hatred, Vent spit right at the man as his answer.

The man, which everybody who lived in Rockvale knew as Barrow, grew incredibly still and, in an act of derision, kicked Vent right in the ribs. An incredible spike of pain stabbed Vent as he felt the rib break from the force of the kick. [b]”I’ll give ya one more chance simply ‘cause I like your spunk, kill her or die with her!”[/b] Barrow said as he forced his boot tip right into the same area where he had kicked. Vent squirmed about but was held tightly by the rest of the bandits. The young man’s eyes teared up as the pain lasted longer and time felt as if it was slowing. 

[b]”Go… fuck… yourself!”[/b] Vent stated through clenched teeth. He knew what he had to do and hated that he had to disobey his Father’s orders but another life was on the line. In a few short seconds, Vent had taken several breaths and once again felt the time slowing to a crawl. He focused hard on his palms as his Father had taught him. A sharp whistle was issued from Vent’s clenched teeth and a red blur plunged from the sky and towards the men holding Vent. Several of the men swung an arm out to keep the bird from pecking at their face. The distraction had worked as intended and Vent could feel the energy finish gathering in his arms. In a single push upward, Vent released all the energy out of his hands creating a cone of pure, physical force up and out.

Many of the men were knocked away several feet while those who were unlucky ended up crashing against the tavern wall. Vent stood up on shaky legs and looked towards Barrow who was standing up after being thrown back as well. He couldn’t fight all of them with his fists alone but he was willing to take out as many people as he could before they got him down. His Father had taught him how to focus physical energy into his hits and through the air to make his hand-to-hand combat skills above average but it required a lot of energy to even perform the previous move. Vent would need help from whoever was willing to survive this fight.

(For reference to Barrow, look at Red Banners in my Characters section.)