No Patience for Copycats [JOB]

The crooked paths of the Phoenix mountains baked under the intense heat of the sun, floating at its very peak as high noon approached. The barren lands were practically void of any vegetation, as well as animal life, save for the occasional lizard darting out of site as the sight of the blue haired swordsman marched by, a man on a mission. It had not been less than a week since he had joined Basilisk Fang, and already he was being sent out to handle a pest, a thorn in the guild’s side.

A small pesky group of thugs had been stalking the roads of the mountain, attacking anyone that happened to come by and robbing them blind, all while running under the guise of the Basilisk Fang. The group had started drawing a decent amount of attention, something Basilisk Fang did not want. And Basilisk Fang only knew one way to deal with situations like this; Extermination. The idea of murdering these thugs, even as a member of a dark guild, did not settle well with Quinton, but what other choice did he have at this point? Famine was given almost completely control over his actions, so if she wished it, he had to do it. He had been turned into what his father tried to escape from, the very thing his name was known for from his country. Being a soldier. There was no escaping what he was, even the name of his magic bared the name, he would always and forever be a warrior.

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Quinton had been dressed in his normal leather armor, with his dirty white cape hanging off his left shoulder. The plan was simply and straight forward for him, the band of thugs typically kept to the side routes along the mountains, not wanting to risk running into a caravan of officials or legal mages, and, according to the rumors, they would flank smaller caravans and lone travelers quite often. That’s exactly what Quinton was aiming to take advantage of. He was not some lone traveler getting lost in the mountains. He was a member of Basilisk Fang, and one of Eris’ Outer Hand, what was coming would be nothing short of a massacre.

Years of hunting experience had come in handy for Quinton, picking up on a trail off the beaten path. It had looked fresh to his eyes, and with more and more people avoiding the trails and the lack of animal life, odds were he wasn’t far from being “ambushed,” the young swordsman thought to himself as he began down the path.

It hadn’t been more than ten minutes before Quinton had gotten what he wanted. A loud voice rumbled out, prompting Quinton to look out towards the mountain side. A large, brutish looking man with a club had been waving his weapon in the air, shouting obscenities through the air, attempting to distract Quinton from the real threat, another, giant of man with a warhammer hiding behind a nearby boulder. The large man moved quickly for his size, aiming to take out Quinton in one foul swoop.

Word Count = 260

Whoever the two thugs, Randy and Wade Booklet, thought they were dealing with, they were dead wrong. The cursing coming from Randy did little to distract Quinton, already on high alert knowing an ambush was around the corner. As Wade lumbered from his position, the footsteps were quite easy to hear. His eyes quickly turned to stare down Wade, who kept trying to force the attack, the warhammer being risen over his head for a downward strike at Quinton’s head, but the weight of the weapon had made it difficult to bring down fast enough, even with how strong Wade had seemed. Quinton was out of the way of the swing, only needing to simply side step the attempt before putting some distance between them.

Randy came barreling down the mountain side, joining his brother’s side. “Hey! Ya don’t know who you’re messing with! We’re part of the Basilisk Fang!” At the mention of the guild, Quinton perked up a little, confirming he had found the frauds. “Stand down now and we might let you live!” Quinton could not help but chuckle slightly to himself, resting a hand on the handle of his blade. The two of them, despite their size, didn’t appear as much of a threat to him. Both men wielded large, heavy weapons, which would be of little to no help against a faster swinging sword. One of the men did not even appear to have a real weapon, holding up a crudely fashioned axe or some kind.

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Randy seemed to pick up on Quinton’s amused smile, growing angry before shouting at him again. “Oi! Something funny you prick?!” Quinton had already found his opening to open up on now. With a smirk on his face, he simply raised a hand, giving him a small finger wiggle to tell him to bring it. The taunt seemed to hit the mark right on the head, Randy growing quite visibly frustrated with his movements, pacing about in a small circle while cursing out Quinton. Randy seemed to have snapped as he broke out in a charge, Wade following behind him. The younger brother had his club far above his head, leaving him wide open for a quick strike from Quinton; however, Randy poised the least amount of threat to him, taking a strike on him would leave him wide open to an attack from Wade. So instead of drawing his blade, he took advantage of the blind rage of Randy, sidestepping the swing, and tripping the younger brother before quickly reacting to the sideways swing from Wade, ducking under just narrowly.

Randy had landed face first into the rough ground, stunning him for a time as Quinton turned his attention to the larger, and more threatening brother, Wade. As the hammer flew right over Quinton’s head, he took advantage of the weight being carried, knowing there was no possibility of a follow up. Springing forward, Quinton delivered a hard blow with his knee square into the larger man’s gut, causing Wade to drop his warhammer in the process.

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Randy had already begun to crawl back up onto his two feet, feeling a bit of blood run down his face from scraping himself on the rough road. A few curses could be heard under his breath as he staggered back up onto his feet; however, Quinton was not about to let the younger brother join into the fight. His hands quickly reached to the ground, grabbing the warhammer that Wade had dropped from the shot to his gut. Unlike the older brother, he went for a much quickly form of striking, swinging upwards, and right between the legs of Randy. While the swing didn’t have nearly as much force behind it as a downward strike would, the windup was quite, and it was aiming for a much more sensitive spot.

As the warhammer’s head connect on its target, a blood curdling yelp echoed out, the voice of Randy screaming out at a much higher pitch than before while yelling down at the young swordsman from the mountain side. Randy’s legs clenched together as the warhammer feel to the ground, following suit not long after as he slumped over to the ground. “That oughta shut you up for a while.” Quinton replied coldly to the annoying little brother, not feeling a bit of remorse for shutting him up in such a fashion. Cockyness would always be meet with a bit of swift justice, this time it was just a bit of an added bonus to put someone like Randy through that amount of pain.

Word count = 254