----
Rhov damned near-laughed as Alexander slung rapid-fire questions his way, every inquiry laced with a persuasive plea to keep talking. Kid thinks I'm just going to waste time and monologue in front of him? He really has no idea how I operate, does he? The Chaktawe's face screwed in disappointment at seeing the defensive position Alex had taken. Time and time again, this Squire seemed intent on separating Rhov from his target. But the bounty hunter would not be denied, not while his pride was on the line.
Shaking his head silently in refusal at the offer of escape, Rhov relied on quick thinking to see success in this dire circumstance. Alex had assumed a shielded position in front of Greebe, so that seemed the route the would-be-knight assumed he would take. The room proved to narrow to provide any meaningful flanking opportunities to get around the polished metal which reflected the dim lights of the candle, and with the man's longer reach Rhov doubted he could maneuver into that position by sheer force. He was running out of time, out of options, and frankly out of patience. With what he was unable to do in mind, Rhov switched paces and simple did what he could to ensure victory.
Power crackled internally as the Chaktawe once again called on his djed, forcing the strength held in his right arm into his left. The roaring storm tore through his limb and sharpened his focus. The world seemed to slow as he tapped the Flux, sharpening his perception to a razor point. Almost moving on its own accord, Rhov's hand ghosted over the chair beside him. Hard onyx eyes never breaking from Alexander's solid stance, the bounty hunter rocketed the object at the Squire with such force that the wood would have shattered on impact if it hit. Tempest tossed strength shot into his legs as he raced to his next bit of leverage, counting on the sudden assault to hopefully allow Rhov time to move to the woman. Flux restoring his body to equilibrium, he grabbed the squirming form of the girl with both hands, ignoring her tears and cries to stop. He would have flung the women at Alexander as hard as he could, forcing the man to either drop his weapons or risk damaging the prostitute if he was still in the same place. Should that have proved successful, he would have allowed his left arm to fall slack from his side as its strength flooded his legs. With increased speed, Rhov would have rushed towards the crumpled form of Greene, grabbing the chain which linked the criminal's wrists together. In a single movement, the Chaktawe would have forced the man onto the bounty hunter's solid shoulder and bolted for the door, the clanking sounds of armor rapidly approaching their position. Flux fueling his feet, Rhov, if unimpeded, would have streaked down the narrows of Stormhold Castle's inner workings.
Rhov heard the cries of distant, discordant voices echoing throughout the alleyways of Syliras' capital city, but the Chaktawe did not feel any spikes of movement from his natural senses. He had at least thirty feet on any pursuers and gaining; intending to shake the law-enforcers in the labyrinthine burrows of Syliras. His breaths came out ragged and rough as he pushed onward, his vice-grip on Flux finally slipping free before any permanent damage could be caused. The djed had kept going in the fight, prevented him from feeling the fatigue of the day, but as that churning, burning storm sank back into the confines of his soul, the exhaustion almost knocked him to the ground. But Rhov kept pushing, because he couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop until the bounty was delivered. His muscles screamed in resistance, and it was all Rhov could do to focus past it. He had broken the one, unstated rule of Syliras to catch his prey. A sin Rhov doubted Alexander would soon forget. He had disobeyed the Knights. He had broken the law.
And, strange as it was, he enjoyed it.
Shaking his head silently in refusal at the offer of escape, Rhov relied on quick thinking to see success in this dire circumstance. Alex had assumed a shielded position in front of Greebe, so that seemed the route the would-be-knight assumed he would take. The room proved to narrow to provide any meaningful flanking opportunities to get around the polished metal which reflected the dim lights of the candle, and with the man's longer reach Rhov doubted he could maneuver into that position by sheer force. He was running out of time, out of options, and frankly out of patience. With what he was unable to do in mind, Rhov switched paces and simple did what he could to ensure victory.
Power crackled internally as the Chaktawe once again called on his djed, forcing the strength held in his right arm into his left. The roaring storm tore through his limb and sharpened his focus. The world seemed to slow as he tapped the Flux, sharpening his perception to a razor point. Almost moving on its own accord, Rhov's hand ghosted over the chair beside him. Hard onyx eyes never breaking from Alexander's solid stance, the bounty hunter rocketed the object at the Squire with such force that the wood would have shattered on impact if it hit. Tempest tossed strength shot into his legs as he raced to his next bit of leverage, counting on the sudden assault to hopefully allow Rhov time to move to the woman. Flux restoring his body to equilibrium, he grabbed the squirming form of the girl with both hands, ignoring her tears and cries to stop. He would have flung the women at Alexander as hard as he could, forcing the man to either drop his weapons or risk damaging the prostitute if he was still in the same place. Should that have proved successful, he would have allowed his left arm to fall slack from his side as its strength flooded his legs. With increased speed, Rhov would have rushed towards the crumpled form of Greene, grabbing the chain which linked the criminal's wrists together. In a single movement, the Chaktawe would have forced the man onto the bounty hunter's solid shoulder and bolted for the door, the clanking sounds of armor rapidly approaching their position. Flux fueling his feet, Rhov, if unimpeded, would have streaked down the narrows of Stormhold Castle's inner workings.
Rhov heard the cries of distant, discordant voices echoing throughout the alleyways of Syliras' capital city, but the Chaktawe did not feel any spikes of movement from his natural senses. He had at least thirty feet on any pursuers and gaining; intending to shake the law-enforcers in the labyrinthine burrows of Syliras. His breaths came out ragged and rough as he pushed onward, his vice-grip on Flux finally slipping free before any permanent damage could be caused. The djed had kept going in the fight, prevented him from feeling the fatigue of the day, but as that churning, burning storm sank back into the confines of his soul, the exhaustion almost knocked him to the ground. But Rhov kept pushing, because he couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop until the bounty was delivered. His muscles screamed in resistance, and it was all Rhov could do to focus past it. He had broken the one, unstated rule of Syliras to catch his prey. A sin Rhov doubted Alexander would soon forget. He had disobeyed the Knights. He had broken the law.
And, strange as it was, he enjoyed it.
