D A E M O N
Ash 15, 122
The rest of the matches had not been ended as quickly and decisively as the first. While none of them had truly posed much of a challenge for him, he had gone into them fully expecting that. It had been aggravatingly painful to slow himself down to that degree but it had been necessary. Even holding back, it had been glaringly obvious that he far outstripped the majority of the opponents who went into the ring with him. To their credit however, the fighters he had gone up against had put everything they had into it. A few of them he had even let land a few hits on him but in the end he had defeated every single challenger who he had gone up against, making for a total of ten defeated fighters.
After the second fight, he had started prolonging the matches, going out of his way to put on more grandiose displays of struggle. Some of the fighters he’d gone up against had appreciated the showmanship. Others had become irate as his actions had been perceived as toying with them. Both responses proved to be something the crowd wanted as the former put on an entertaining show that dazzled them with both feats of martial prowess and displays of magic. The latter had a greater undertone of brutality as his angry opponents sought not only to defeat him but to injure him with everything they had. In both cases, he came out unscathed. Through it all he remained a silent attacker. He never taunted. He never roared to the crowd. He never spoke. To those fighters who had garnered a measure of his respect in the ring for their efforts, he offered a nod of acknowledgement, defeating them but leaving them conscious and still standing.
To those fighters who resorted to dirty tactics and disrespected him in the ring, he left in an unceremonious unconscious heap on the ground. By the time he walked away from his last fight and made his way over to Aeros and Mathias, there was a dark skinned robed man two others who were clearly his guards. He was eyeing Talon quite openly. As he neared, the man smiled and offered a flourish of the hand followed by a bow. The man immediately began speaking in Vastien, a language that he did not know. He was clearly addressing him so Talon kept his focus on the man. He opened up his senses in order to bring the man’s aura into focus but found that it was wrapped tightly around his frame. It was either being concealed by him or it was being concealed by something on his person.
“Ah! I have watched your fights throughout the whole of the night, Daemon. I must say that I am immensely impressed. You clearly have a talent for both war and magic, talent that is wasted here in this rabble. I would like to invite you to a more suitable arena. One where your skill and talents can be more readily tested.” Talon understood only a few of the words that came out of the man’s mouth. When he finished speaking, he looked to Aeros. He really would need to learn Vastien. Relying on another to translate for him was dangerous and not something he was inclined to allow for much longer.
“Dominus?” He posed the word as a question. As soon as he said it, the man’s attention switched from Talon to Aeros. Recognition and then curiosity sparked in the man's face.
"Ah! Is he your property then?" Again, the man spoke in Vastien.
The rest of the matches had not been ended as quickly and decisively as the first. While none of them had truly posed much of a challenge for him, he had gone into them fully expecting that. It had been aggravatingly painful to slow himself down to that degree but it had been necessary. Even holding back, it had been glaringly obvious that he far outstripped the majority of the opponents who went into the ring with him. To their credit however, the fighters he had gone up against had put everything they had into it. A few of them he had even let land a few hits on him but in the end he had defeated every single challenger who he had gone up against, making for a total of ten defeated fighters.
After the second fight, he had started prolonging the matches, going out of his way to put on more grandiose displays of struggle. Some of the fighters he’d gone up against had appreciated the showmanship. Others had become irate as his actions had been perceived as toying with them. Both responses proved to be something the crowd wanted as the former put on an entertaining show that dazzled them with both feats of martial prowess and displays of magic. The latter had a greater undertone of brutality as his angry opponents sought not only to defeat him but to injure him with everything they had. In both cases, he came out unscathed. Through it all he remained a silent attacker. He never taunted. He never roared to the crowd. He never spoke. To those fighters who had garnered a measure of his respect in the ring for their efforts, he offered a nod of acknowledgement, defeating them but leaving them conscious and still standing.
To those fighters who resorted to dirty tactics and disrespected him in the ring, he left in an unceremonious unconscious heap on the ground. By the time he walked away from his last fight and made his way over to Aeros and Mathias, there was a dark skinned robed man two others who were clearly his guards. He was eyeing Talon quite openly. As he neared, the man smiled and offered a flourish of the hand followed by a bow. The man immediately began speaking in Vastien, a language that he did not know. He was clearly addressing him so Talon kept his focus on the man. He opened up his senses in order to bring the man’s aura into focus but found that it was wrapped tightly around his frame. It was either being concealed by him or it was being concealed by something on his person.
“Ah! I have watched your fights throughout the whole of the night, Daemon. I must say that I am immensely impressed. You clearly have a talent for both war and magic, talent that is wasted here in this rabble. I would like to invite you to a more suitable arena. One where your skill and talents can be more readily tested.” Talon understood only a few of the words that came out of the man’s mouth. When he finished speaking, he looked to Aeros. He really would need to learn Vastien. Relying on another to translate for him was dangerous and not something he was inclined to allow for much longer.
“Dominus?” He posed the word as a question. As soon as he said it, the man’s attention switched from Talon to Aeros. Recognition and then curiosity sparked in the man's face.
"Ah! Is he your property then?" Again, the man spoke in Vastien.
