DrowsyPangolin

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Soah grabbed the blade of the weapon and yanked it. Crom reached forward, grabbing the weapon around it's guard with his free hand. The pul was strong, and for a moment the mercenary feared his arm might be torn from it's socket. The werewolf jolted the weapon back towards it's user. Crom's tight grip held, but he felt the decorative handguard dig into his palm. He gritted his teeth as the weapon came back towards him, but his strength kept it from knocking him down, even as the golden pommel bounced against his armored chest. With a strength impressive even for someone of his size, Crom ripped the blade away from the werewolf's clutches, nearly falling backwards as he did so. He reversed his momentum and threw his weight into an attack, moving from his heels to the balls of his feet, and brought the blade down in a quick, hard swing, towards his opponents face.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom quickly sidestepped the weapon that had been haphazardly flung towards his face. The weapon whizzed by towards a nearby tree. The werewolf was now charging him. A well-placed stab might bring the monster down, but it also risked getting the weapon lodged inside the beast, and if he missed a vital spot he'd be torn to shreds. The werewolf made a diving tackle towards his lower body. The soldier lept sideways again to avoid the attack, knowing wrestling with a werwolf seemed like a horrible decision. The found his footing and turned towards Soah's now exposed side. He made a quick thrust towards his opponent's ribcage. The attack was quick, but still fierce, and the heavily sharpened tip of the weapon would likely pierce even the werewolf's leathery hide.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom locked eyes with the werewolf. Clearly the knife was going to be of very little use against the monstrosity that now stood before him. He had grown quite a bit, and it was obvious he was quite strong. The tall man yanked the knife from his leathery flesh before he could try to take it from him. In the next moment, the werewolf lunged forward in an attempt to headbutt him. Crom brought his arm up in front of him, knife in hand, and braced for collision. He felt Soah's skull crack into his forearm. His boots slid back in the snow as the lycan struck him. The werewolf struck with more force than even the strongest man. Crom couldn't afford to make any mistakes in this fight, if he did he was almost certainly dead. The strike from Soah's skull bruised his off hand. The soldier backstepped from his opponent, sheathing his knife and grabbing the hilt of his sword simultaneously. The polished steel flashed as Crom drew his blade. The weapon was well made, and appeared almost delicate with it's long, slender blade, but the steel was incredibly hard, and had stood the test of countless battles. The Esterlian flourished the weapon, the afternoon light shimmering against the blade. A faint confidence filled Crom's eyes. He never felt more comfortable than he did with a sword in his hand. "Come on then," He said, his voice as gruff as ever, but now filled with a fervency that it had previously lacked. He motioned for the lycan to come closer, flourishing the blade again while backing away from the rest of the party.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom watched the werewolf before him. Soah affirmed his suspicions sarcastically and taunted the soldier. Crom didn't budge, his cold blue eyes locking with the werewolf's. "Well, show me what you've got then." he said, his voice gruff. "Johnathon, I'd suggest you move lad, this could get serious." His hand tightened around his weapon, his free hand was hidden beneath his cloak. The creature leaped forward with inhuman speed. One of the beast's claws struck out to grab his sword arm, the other stabbed towards his chest. Without a moment's hesitation, the grizzled veteran twirled around the strike with surprising grace for a man of his stature. The grab missed entirely, but the stab clipped his cloak as he turned, tearing a bit of the stained grey fabric. Not having time or room to draw his sword, the former knight acted as quickly as he could, his free hand pulling his knife from it's sheath. He flipped the knife upside down and swung a quick downward stab towards the werewolf's arm. The knife was a simple tool, likely made of iron, but it was sharp, and could do some damage. The Esterlian's mind raced. He'd have to gain a moment to draw his sword, otherwise he was at a serious disadvantage.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom cursed to himself. It was clear Adrian's dagger had done some major damage. He eyed the injured man closely. Johnathon suggested he lie down. Crom was about to agree, when the young man began changing. Even the old soldier had never seen anything like it. The man's eyes had changed colors, his muscles had grown, and his face and body were shifting into something inhuman. For a brief moment Crom remembered the old legends he had heard as a child. He watched Soah carefully, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword ever tighter. "So, you were the one who caused all that shit in town." It was clear the monster they had saw earlier was the same as the young man that stood before them now. Before turning, he had threatened Adrian. Crom realized he stood between the youth, who seemed to be in no shape to fight, and the growing monster. He had no idea how to fight a werewolf, if it came to that, but he certainly had no intention of letting the creature kill them all. The mercenary's eyes narrowed, and a look of seriousness overtook him as he watched the transformation occur.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom watched as Johnathon pulled a rough map from his bag. He hadn't quite considered that they had no set destination. It didn't bother him much either way. He was used to the traveling life by now, and was all to willing to go as far as necessary with the party, assuming they all intended to head for the same place. The soldier began trying to remember where specific cities were on the map, but his concentration was shattered by a flash of silver in what had previously been a fist fight. He realized only moments to late that Adrian had pulled a knife. Without hesitation, the tall man bounded forward. He saw Adrian take a heavy uppercut and fall to the ground. He saw the glimmer of silver fall to the snow, but couldn't tell if it'd hit Soah in the commotion. He reached the combatants and threw himself in between them, placing his heavy boot down on the dagger that Adrian had just dropped. His hand gripped the hilt of his weapon as he looked back and forth between the two. He honestly hadn't expected the fight to escalate as quickly as it had. With a gruff and commanding voice, the mercenary snarled out something that sounded more like a command than a suggestion. "That's enough you two. There's no way in hell we'll make it to the other side of these mountains if we kill each other before we get there." He glanced back and forth. Adrian seemed to be practically incapacitated. He looked over the newcomer to see if the dagger had struck it's target. "Are you hurt?"

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom watched as Adrian and Soah brawled it out in the snow. Adrian seemed to be losing, that much was apparent, but his drive to continue even after taking a hard hit was impressive. Johnathon seemed very concerned about the altercation. Crom had seen far too many fights to get worked up over a simple exchanging of blows. Griff seemed to have the same viewpoint. "Aye, let them blow off some steam." The Esterlian watched closely. He knew Soah had a sword on him, and he thought he had noticed Adrian having a knife. That was where he'd draw the line. "If it gets too serious we can intervene, but stopping them now would just fan the flames." He took a swig from his flask before holding it out towards Johnathon. "Would you like some, mate? You need to relax a bit, there's nothing to worry about." Crom;s voice was warm and encouraging, completely masking the fact that he was ready, at a moments notice, for everything to go wrong. He knew anything could happen in the wilds. A fist fight was the least of their worries.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom shook his head as the boy rushed towards Soah. "Bloody fucking hell..." he mumbled, pulling his flask from his belt as Adrian went charging by. The mercenary turned towards the soon-to-be fight and took a long drink from his flask. He had learned long ago that if you fought every man with a smart mouth you'd be fighting half the population. However, he hadn't been particularly fond of Soah's response. Still, he doubted the young man had nearly as much skill as he thought he did, and there was no point in enforcing this point unless he became more violent. Crom watched the commotion with a sigh. He walked over to Johnathon. "Well, it seems our journey here didn't get very far without a bit of violence." He took another drink.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom continued walking with the group. Griff added in his opinion on the matter. Crom couldn't really disagree with his position. In such times, violence often was the only answer if one wanted to stay alive. Johnathon seemed uneasy about the conversation, confirming Crom's suspicion that he wasn't much for fighting. He seemed hopeful they'd make it through their journey without getting into a fight. "I certainly hope so, it'd be a damn shame to have to spill blood out here and mar the scenery." He looked around at the trees again. Tranquility. It was something he'd missed for most of his life. Adrian began to talk about his older brother. Crom listened closely to the boys story, guessing the ending as soon as the boy mentioned the bandits. Cutthroats weren't the type for civility. He frowned when he was right. It was something he'd seen all too often in the world; good people killed for doing the right thing. The boy finished his story, visibly bothered by recounting it. The warrior strode on a few feet before looking towards the boy. "Your brother sounds like he was a good man, lad. As for what your father said... he wasn't wrong. But you have to know when to spare a life as well. Killing is easy, but get lost in it and you'll destroy what makes you human. You have to know when to show mercy." The soldier continued walking. Despite his fall from grace, he still carried the honor of a knight within him.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Crom stared off into the distance for a moment as the boy asked the question. His pale blue eyes scanned the mountaintops aimlessly. There was no point in hiding it. He had been a knight, and had fought in two wars, he had certainly seen his share of death, and had been the cause for a fair amount of it. He looked down at the weapon on his hip. It had been his closest friend through many conflicts, and had saved his life more times than he could count. He wasn't particularly proud of all the killing he had done, but it didn't weigh too heavily on his conscience. He had simply done what he had to do. After a moment he replied. "Aye, lad. I've done my share of killing. It's a soldier's profession, after all." The soldiers voice was as solid as ever, but without the warmth that had emanated from it in the tavern earlier. Killing was serious business, far more so than drinking, and he had no intent of glorifying it. The soldier continued walking, keeping in stride with the other members of the party. He looked around, pondering Adrian's question. Clearly the boy had never killed anyone. It seemed doubtful that Johnathon had either. Griff seemed as though he had seen the darker side of the world, Crom expected that he had likely taken a few lives, and the newcomer, Soah, had a certain air about him. Crom had very little doubt that he was familiar with killing.