Blink, and you'll miss it. A sly move to be wagered against a much larger opponent. While Eden was primarily a marksman, he did have some training in martial combat, and more important, hand-to-hand combat to shrug off a opponent who managed to get within distance to him after being riddled by bullets or flames. Garooda was just that, a big brute of a man, maybe due to his dragon blood which was easily detectable by his appearance. Large, heavy muscles over a scaled frame, a bruiser with claws and a smoking temper to match. If Eden had a short fuse, this man had no fuse at all, given his bull's snorting and now that bull was charging. 

It was hard to take Eden seriously, between his charismatic persona and almost childish nature, he was grossly underestimated by his peers. Yet that was fine, it made him a lover not a fighter, even with a few impossible marks under his belt, he preferred focusing on his conquests below the belt. Rumor was after all, he achieved his rank and position by some nepotism, but he did go through the training required, and also some more specialized instruction from the Royal Guards. This meant that even though he introduced himself as just Eden Niscent-Hanoxx, he could claim the title Captain and most definitely defend it. Now as he stood in the arena, his combat stance was evidence to those keen to look past the playboy. His powerful hips and core, gleaned through a regiment of training and kept through bedroom activities. His palms were open with curled back claws, neither a committed fist, nor a flat hand capable of deflecting or striking with a curl or uncurl. His smug smile, jeering at the opponent as he waited for the first move from the aggressor. The bait was taken.

There it was, in response to the incoming fist, thrown in from the right, aimed at his face. Did the guard think this was the first bar fight Eden took part in? And did he think he was the biggest foe he had to contend with? If it was one thing that was clear, Eden was more agile, quicker on his feet to react as he stepped into his opponent's space and drew his right elbow into the dragon-breed's chest. But this was not the main goal of the defense, but rather to close up the distance between them as Eden's trunk twisted around focusing on manipulating Garooda's extend arm into stopping the attack. His left hand deflected the strike down at the wrist, checking the attack as his the edge of Eden's right hand pulled it self across the forearm to prevent further extension as the pressure on the cubital joint barred the upper arm. Locked in position, and having both successfully blocked the attack and giving a wink at Eve and Astrea, whipped himself back around his center but not before gripping the dragon-spawns wrist and elbow joint.

His hips provided the power, the quick snapping motion of the power-stroke movement. Force applied at the lever arm, controlling the wrist and elbow, to take the forearm, forearm to take upper arm, and upper arm to the shoulder, and finally shoulder to take the body. Pushing against the shoulder joint, by means of forced inward rotation, spiraling clockwise  towards the floor. The body must follow limb, and limb must follow Eden's will. A hip check bumped Garooda now as he was taken by Eden's artful grapple. More pressure pushed into his shoulder to force his upper body to drop beneath Eden as he stood hip to hip against his opponent and their apparent difference in height abated with the arm-lock control applying more anatomical discomfort to force Garooda into dropping towards the floor on his knees. Could he resist it? Or was it proper that Eden caused him to kneel?

A sickening crunch of bone was heard. Perhaps stopping the show for the crowd. But Eve knew exactly how Eden planned to fight. He was bold and rash, but not stupid enough to think he could take the obviously stronger Guardsmen directly. Eve sighed a moment of relief, when Astrea confirmed she could heal the fighters, more concerned about Eden than his opponent, even if her friend had just taken the advantage and pressed the attack. "My lady?" She inquired at the angelic being, [b][color=ec008c]"Oh I'm not... Well I mean to say Eden's... Just call me Eve, please, you don't need to be so formal to me, although I can see why you thought I was someone important because of Eden but... If I could get your name Miss?"[/color][/b] A tiny dragon standing atop a bar counter, talking with a Seraphim. A bar brawl afforded some strangers who were feeling up the stairs, and some strangers who sat in the back to watch it all.

[b][color=f26522]"You really should watch your mouth."[/color][/b] Eden's eyes betrayed his grinning face, the humor almost drained and replaced with pure sadism. Letting go of the arm, was the easy part, now that it was broken. The elbow joint was destroyed, precise knee strike at the elbow to cause an unwanted force reversing the joint before his barefoot was set back down.[b][color=f26522] "I'll break your other arm if you don't apologize to her when she wakes."[/color][/b] A rather escalated response, but certainly a romantic notion to defend a lady's honor, even if she did sleep with Eden who had slept with more women than his cousin's slain dragons probably. Of course women were easier to come by usually, giving credit to King Hanoxx for all his kills.

With that Eden stepped back, as if giving Garooda time to reconsider the entire fight, and picked up his glass of wine before taking another sip to work the crowd. Were they not entertained? The sheer brutality of breaking a man's arm, disappeared into the gallantry of defending a lady's honor, to now self-indulgent hedonism. The wine helped soften the image, reminding the watchers what was at stake here was both just wagered drink, and more than just a wagered drink. The interplays of power, dominance, and that warrior culture, mixed in with sovereignty, authority, and free will. Was it an abuse of Eden's power to do what he did? To openly call out the soldiers? But was it not for the greater good with his intentions of having them restore the bar in proper order? To apologize to the harassed? The lines of right and wrong were blurred, perhaps there was no moral rectitude to be had at a bar all.

[b][color=f26522]"My cousin kills dragons you know. Runs a whole guild of dragonslayers, when he's not too busy running a Kingdom."[/color][/b] He taunted the injured guard, [b][color=f26522]"And well you're no Dragon, but I wonder if I can drag your sorry ass to the guild and they'll let me in? So... How about that drink?" [/color][/b]Salt on the wound, as Eden set the glass back down and prepared for another attack as he continued to stoke the flames of burning rage. All for the entertainment of his current company, and much to Eve's disapproval. Though they really should stop become someone gets seriously injured. But then again this seemed like a Tyro affair, and technically since it was an army member disregarding a direct order from both a superior and one of their royal families, who had the right to intervene with what could be considered Kingdom affairs?

---

[color=440eb2]"He shall bring us to him..."[/color]
[color=440e82]"We find your proposal intriguing..."[/color]
[color=440e62]"Meet us at the crossroads..."[/color]
[color=440e42]"He is our student..."[/color]
[color=440e22]"Now leave his thoughts..."[/color]
[color=440e02]"We are the masters..."[/color]

Six against one, the voices within and without. A single pawn caught between forces beyond him. A shudder at the touch across his face, gentle but cold. He saw nothing, but darkness, or whatever it was he saw trapped in a sightless world. A void of vision only temporarily relieved by the use of magic, and even then sight was an illusion. The question unanswered, but perhaps it seems like his dark masters had the answers they sought. For in his hands now were both book and an apple. Symbolic of the fork now offered, a new stranger, a powerful force certain with a presence felt by not only R'lyeh but also perhaps concerned his masters as they were silenced by the appearance of another entity. The poor Lassan was lost, bringing the apple to his lips to feel what he could not see through the more sensitive touch. 

[b][color=0054a6]"What are you?"[/color][/b] the blind man asked, the question which also peaked in the minds of this master. Or at least they knew what it was, but not which it was. The cosmic entities which roamed the multiverse was plentiful, and the cosmology was too bastardized to consider even attempting to explain with beings who could not understand conceptions beyond the first 6 dimensions, let alone the idea of forces beyond their control.

[color=440eb2]"What do you propose?..."[/color]
[color=440e82]"An offering to meet our ends?..."[/color]
[color=440e62]"But what are you goals?..."[/color]
[color=440e42]"The Grey One seeks perfection..."[/color]
[color=440e22]"Tell no secrets between us..."[/color]
[color=440e02]"We are the masters..."[/color]