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    1. awkwarddingo 9 yrs ago

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Solomon slept pretty well, despite the nightmares of his past death. Upon waking up, he could still feel where Rose stabbed him not too long ago. The fact the first thing he saw were Rose's eyes halfway across the room was a bittersweet thing. He rose from his bed rather quickly with a yawn. "Morning, Rose. Already up?" He seemed to not know how long he slept as he got up and put the cloak he borrowed from Rose around himself. "I guess while we're in town, I need to buy some new clothes... Maybe a weapon to go with my staff, should the smith here be good."

He had quite the list of things to do while the three had a moment to catch their breath in this town. He needed to buy clothes, weapon, food, camping materials, and healing items. Then there was planning their next route, training from the two... Solomon wasn't letting himself have a peaceful moment. In fact, he found it in these times where there was no battle to fight was when he was at his most worried. As a courier, he was always weary of a peaceful road when bandits could be lurking, watching him, waiting until the perfect moment...

He looked over at what Rose was doing. "Inventory? If that's the case, add this to the pile." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a coin purse. "4 crowns worth of silver. I like to carry a larger number of coins." He took pride in the fact he needed incredibly little in terms of supplies when he delivered. His familiarity with many roads allowed him to discover numerous shortcuts that could save him hours, if not a day or two, meaning less food was needed. His return visits to lords like Fardsworth allowed him to become a trusted courier and request higher pay per mile. The only reason he didn't have more was because of he was something of a generous tipper to barkeeps that he became familiar with.
"I mean, I know where pressure points, the vital blood vessels, and the heart is..." Solomon shrugged. "When you say working on corpses..." he shuddered. Sure, he had killed before, but to dissect them, to turn his former and defeated opponent into some magic practice. "I don't know. Maybe I will stick with learning the myriad methods of combat. When the time comes, however, I'm sure you will be an excellent teacher." he smiled at her.

(Sorry for the small post)
Solomon wrapped the cloak around himself. "Thank you. And don't worry. The old outfit was getting a bit red for my liking." He joked. "Also, Rose, since Amalthea will most likely teach me how to use a bow, do you think it's possible for me to learn some of that healing magic you know? The more people in our little trio that know how to heal like that, the better." He suggested, hoping it would get Rose's spirits up a bit.

She seemed somber for the most part. He assumed travelling with two people you murdered or attempted to murder would end up putting ones spirits down. It would be best for everyone if he attempted to keep the spirits of the group high. He remembered Amalthea's sudden silence. She was rather talkative moments ago, telling him how much she loved heroes... and him.

This made Solomon wince. It wasn't out of disgust, but of worry. Love was something Solomon had not felt in much too long. In fact, being this close to the two of them was a foreign feeling altogether. He seemed to be stuck with them both for the moment, for better or worse. In fact, he rather enjoyed their company, despite one of them killing him and the other being the first domino that caused recent events leading up to said death to transpire.
Solomon looked at the mark, now buried under the wraps, once more finding himself deep in thought and inner conflict. They both had valid points. Of course Amalthea took the side of displaying his status as a hero. She loved the idea of him being one, and heroes in general seemed to be something Amalthea adored. Her idea might make the lesser assassins tremble and run as the previous ones did, but Rose pointed out something Solomon feared: the target on his back -or hand rather. This thing was beginning to be something of a bother to him at the moment, at least until he unlocked its, and his, full potential.

"I've made up my mind." He looked at them both. "I'll keep it hidden for now." He had been thinking on this new idea for a while after the two brought up their points, and even before then, once he had learned about the ability to learn any skill and not forget one.

"While we are on our way to the kingdom, and maybe even after, depending on how this all goes, I'll start learning. Every weapon, skill, strategy, and... maybe even some magic. After I learned enough, after I help people, after I'm worth bearing this mark, I'll start showing it. For now, however, I haven't learned all that much yet, and I have no skills that show any difference between me and someone without the mark."

After he finished his short speech, he noticed a cold breeze in the night.

"Please tell me one of you grabbed my shirt because I, for one, did not." he chuckled.
I should probably write more on how Solomon thinks instead of using just his words. I'm trying to make him the guy that, for the most part, is conflicted about the Mark because of the circumstances behind it and such.
Solomon was about to address the group until Amalthea started talking about heroes past and himself. He heard her give every praise in the book to him and then some. The sudden burst of talkative energy from Amalthea was quite a lot to take in, especially being as worried as he was just moments ago. He only half listened to Amalthea, just being happy they were all alive.

"Thank you, Amalthea, but you should be proud too. Your shots saved our skins." He smiled. "You are rather skilled with both the sword and the bow. Maybe later, you could train me."

And then he looked to Rose as she blamed herself for all that had transpired. When she spoke those words in that tone, something struck him that made him feel empathy towards her. What struck him was the familiarity of her situation.

"And let's not forget Rose. That was a bold move, jumping into the bank with Amalthea in order to give her the bow and arrows. You both were certainly much bolder than I." He sighed, sitting down on a large stone. He brushed his hair back once more and stared blankly at his Mark. The questions about it still circled in his head, but it seems these unanswered questions were just part of his cross to bear.

"It didn't feel right, doing that." He started. What he did back there was just a joke at first thought, but as it happened, it made him feel cowardly. He took a bit of loose cloth in one of his pockets and tied it around the Mark. "I would rather not use this symbol as a shield. I will use the strengths it gives me to keep us safe, but flashing it about to every assassin is something I will try to avoid. We'll have to find other ways to deal with them, in the coming times."
Solomon nodded. That worked. That actually worked. Even with everyone alive, he couldn't help but feel a lack of pride. "Agreed. I sincerely apologize for your comrades." He bowed apologetically. "Don't follow us." He started to walk backwards slowly, eying them both, and then turned around to see how Amalthea and Rose reacted to the scene. The look he gave them with his back turned to the assassins was that of I really think we should move as far away from here as possible. Despite his plan working, he wasn't sure how long it would stay this peaceful.
As Solomon ever so slowly approached, he found himself to be more terrified now than he was moments ago just fighting them. He turned back to Rose and Amalthea, trying to give them a confident look, but his eyes went from Amalthea's sword back to her eyes, trying to tell her without words to be ready for whatever happened.

When he got a few feet away, he showed the Mark to them. It will be all the more visible now. He put his staff in a defensive position, making sure it covered the arm he extended to them, as he half expected the man to grab his arm and have his compatriot lop it off.

"See? I don't care much for fighting you assassins, and I highly suggest you turn around and go back the way you came. I will not gloat, and there will be no shame in a wise retreat on your part." He said with a tone that did well to hide that he was using all the strength in his body not waver.
Believe it or not, Solomon considered grabbing the princess and running. They would just have to fight these guys another day, though. It was either a fair fight now or a backstab later. Solomon preferred the fair fight, and the first assassin didn't do any significant harm to him. He was ready for another round. As he considered striking against the assassin's, another, familiar yet insane thought floated through his mind. Something he laughed off earlier...

He shifted his stance so the back of his right hand showed towards the assassins, the moonlight shining on the mark. In his stance, even if they were to attack, he would be ready, but he still hoped for this third option to yield some result.

"So here you stand against someone bearing the Mark of a Hero." He started, his tone came off as threatening, yet calm. To the girls, he would sound almost like another man entirely. "Take one more step forward, and the princess and I will not hold back. You have this one warning."

This is such a dumb idea... He thought as he threatened the two.
As the fourth scout attacked, Solomon was forced to backpedal. The swings were too close for comfort, the blade swipes cutting the air close to his body. He got stabbed a few times in the last 24 hours, and he wasn't all too keen on being stabbed again. At that point, Solomon was given a few choices. Fight this guy with the intention of winning, fight him with the intention of distracting, or two cut his losses and run.

The only advantage he saw if he fought was the reach of his staff, which far surpassed the assassin's steel. There was also the added benefit that his staff was designed to defend against swords. This would be a wholly different battle entirely if the assassin were to use something more destructive like a mace or axe.

As Solomon backpedaled, he went from holding his staff close to himself defensively to keeping the attacker back with powerful jabs. He considered sweeping attacks, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave himself entirely open to the assassin's blade. The jabs were aimed at the center of the scout's chest. If he was wearing armor, these attacks would only push him back, if not, there rang the possibility of cracking a rib or two.

Lastly, Solomon was running out of space to retreat. He couldn't keep walking backward forever. He minded the direction he was going, towards the bank but at an angle. Soon enough, the perfect shot would be lined up for the princess, should she have any arrows left. Despite Solomon's choice to attack while retreating, that was his final goal, and he hoped Amalthea would catch up to that idea before Solomon fell back first into the bank.
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