Solo [Streets of Sunberth] It's Just Not Our Problem...

[Harman Dayis]

It's Just Not Our Problem...
8th of Summer, 516 AV

Harman kept his green eyes open and alert, as he and Champion slipped through the winding alleyways of Sunberth. Even with a mangled, thug'ish looking Deerstalker by one's side, walking the streets of the anarchic city by the nature of the act put one in peril.

The young boxer had been mugged before, stumbled upon rape, extortion, and even a murder once. His policy of anything not pertaining to him not being his business did help to keep him and Champion out of trouble, but it was impossible really to fully avoid such things in Sunberth.

Harman turned an alleyway. He checked the maps in his mind, as he did so. Besides being a cesspool of unavoidable debauchery, the city was also a maze for anyone who needed to move about in it - even a resident. Still, the young fighter knew where he was going - for the most part the paths he took were ingrained in his muscle memory.

A low whining noise from the eyeless, earless, slab of black furred muscle beside him caught his attention away from his navigation of the streets.

What's his problem? Harman asked himself, and glanced down to a disgruntled Champion.

The dog sniffed and turned towards another alley corridor.

Suspiciously, Harman turned his attention upwards from his dog. He peered into the sunlit path Champion was denoting with his distress.

One look at what was going on, and Harman knew what he had to do.

"Champion, come one," he said.

The teen began to back away and to return to his path. His dog glared up at him and begrudgingly took a step towards him.

"Good dog," Harman said, as the pair began to continue on their journey.

None of my business, he repeated silently to himself. Champion meanwhile, began to stir once more.

Harman noticed the dog acting strangely, and watched the Deerstalker grow increasingly agitated over the course of their next few strides.

The dog looked like he was about to bolt.

"No," his master scolded.

The dog's legs stiffened.

"I said, no!" he somewhat harshly scolded Champion.

Champion froze completely in his tracks and refused to move further any more.

Harman sighed an annoyed breath.

"It's not our problem," he told the dog.

It was insane, the human told himself. Champion was a smart dog, sure, Harman admitted, but the Deerstalker shouldn't have had any sense of morality, beyond an instinct to conform to human society. He was a dog!

The dog ignored his master and quickly turned and lunged. Champion backtracked to the alley he had growled at, and quickly disappeared into it.

Harman momentarily considered leaving the dog to his fate, but thought against it when a pang of guilt filled him. The dog was his problem, he told himself - friends didn't abandon friends.

The boy chased after his companion.

[Harman Dayis]

It's Just Not Our Problem...
8th of Summer, 516 AV

He walked into the alleyway slowly. His chest clenched a bit in worry, at what he saw.

Stay calm, Harman thought. He fought against the growing, pulsating of his heart. The organ threatened to increase its tempo and carry through his body a burst of thought clouding adrenaline, that Harman did not want in the current moment. The boxer did what he could to focus on the situation, while still controlling his breathing.

Champion meanwhile, barked with a furry at a knife wielding man. The man was many years Harman's senior, but was shorter - albeit he was more strongly built. Currently, the apparently furry filled dog was the only thing standing between the thug and a man, who was slumped against the rightmost wall of the alley.

The dog's owner was hardly entertained by his charge's heroic behavior, and his eyes quickly darted between the three beings in front of him.

Poor sod, Harman commented to himself, as he glanced at the man his dog was protecting. The middle aged human had the look of having his breath knocked out of him, as Harman noticed he was heaving desperately for oxygen.

"Champion, let's go," he ordered his dog.

The teenager did what he could to keep his voice steady and strong, as he gave the command. This could get bad, real fast, if I'm not careful, Harman msed.

"Damned dog, get out of my way," the knife wielding man ordered, as well.

Harman was about to say something, when his eyes widened. The thug's leg twitched and then drew back, threateningly.

"No!" he called out on instinct.

The mugger's foot cracked against Harman's dog's chin. Champion's massive girth cantered off balance, just enough for him to lose his footing and topple momentarily. The dog's loosed a piecing whine of agony, as the pain registered in his jaw and spread like fire through his skull.

Harman clenched his teeth hard enough to put painful pressure on the nerves of his gums. Stupid dog!

Champion was quick to scurry to his feet. It all happened in a flash, of which everyone involved saw clearly in the heat of the moment. The dog's bleeding maw erupted forth with a fearsome war cry of retaliation. The force of the air traveling out of the Deerstalker's mouth shot blood from his wounds, and onto whatever, and whoever was near him.

"Champion, stop!" Harman commanded in a shout of rage.

The conflict froze.

"Don't you touch him," the teenager challenged the thug, in a more measured tone.

"Is this mutt your's?" the mugger asked Harman; he was clearly annoyed.

The boxer's clenched fists twitched, as he looked at the thug. He battled back the increasing tempo of his heart, as best he could.

"Champion, come on, we're leaving," the teenager told his dog.

Champion didn't lunge at the man again, but continued to growl. The dog did not move to follow Harman's orders.

"Boy, you best get this thing away from me," the mugger said.

Harman's eyes flashed with rage, that was just barely tamed.

"I just want my dog. You can do what you want with him," the boy gestured to the man who the mugger had knocked down, who was now standing, but was still trapped between everyone in the tight passage, "but if you touch my friend, I'll take your hands."

I don't want to fight him, it could end badly, Harman reminded the anger in his heart. Or do I? No, Champion did bring the kick on himself, I just need to get us out of here.

"Maybe I take your life, before you take my hands, eh?" the thug threatened back.

Harman couldn't quite tell, but something about the man's posture and demeanor signaled that he might not be as assured as his solid tone suggested.

"Why?" Harman asked.

"What does that get you? I don't have any money, and neither of us know who's going to die. Then again," Harman gestured to his dog, as he spoke, "I've got him, and you've only got you. I just want to walk away."

[Harman Dayis]

It's Just Not Our Problem...
8th of Summer, 516 AV

"You're not going to try anything?" the mugger inquired.

I want to, but no, Harman answered the question internally.

"No," he promised. "Just let me have my dog."

The mugger looked between Harman, then Champion, then his victim. He grabbed the last of the three by the collar and moved back to the side of Champion.

"Take him, then," the vagabond offered.

"Thank you. Easier for both of us this way," Harman replied.

He approached Champion, and looked down at the dog. The black canine was still bleeding from his mouth, and was shaking as he came down from the adrenaline the almost-fight had caused his body to produce.

"Come," the dog's owner ordered.

Harman's dog was much more apt to obey, now that he could actually feel his injuries. Champion dropped his head and moved to his master's side.

Time for me to go, he told himself. Still, the boxer found his green eyes gazing at the crimson blood that dripped from between his companions gums and teeth. Meanwhile, his feet didn't move him any further away from the mugger.

Harman took a breath and looked up at Champion's assaulter. For a moment, he merely locked eyes with the man.

The thug stifled.

"Well?" the vagabond asked.

Harman's right fist collided in a flash with the mugger's own teeth. He felt the muscle and tissue of his knuckles fill with blood, in response to the forceful impact, as they began to bruise.

Blood for blood, the boxer resolved, as he felt the thug's own scarlet fluids coat his hand. I shouldn't have done that, he told himself, as he fell into his boxing stance. Oh well.

The man's knife fell from his hand, as Harman sucker punched him. He also lost his grip on the man he'd been holding onto.

"I'd leave," Harman said simply, to the man the thug had been manhandling.

Meanwhile, as the male the boxer addressed began to flee, his former captor was quickly regaining his balance. Harman pushed passed the fleeing Sunberth resident and somewhat awkwardly, but still quickly approached the thug.

The teen quickly fired off three jabs in quick succession, and landed only one. The punch that hit was much lighter than the one that Harman's advisory had felt from the teen only moments ago, and this relative break allowed him to shrug the jab off somewhat readily.

The thug threw a quick haymaker in response, and hit the teen square between the eyes. The punch caused Harman's head to snap back. He was forced to shift his weight to his outstretched back leg to keep balance, and was not able to parry the second haymaker that slammed into his left jaw.

The teen felt and heard the stiff cracking noise that always accompanied jaw punches, as his head swiveled from the force of the hit. His eyes spun, as his head rolled back to the front, and the green orbs locked onto their target. A combination of punches from Harman soon hit his enemy three times.

[Harman Dayis]

It's Just Not Our Problem...
8th of Summer, 516 AV

Harman smiled. The punches hurt, he noted at the stinging pain in his head, but they were sloppy, and thrown in an untrained style. Unless the man got in a lucky hit, he'd never hit Harman hard enough to knock him out with such shots.

Harman took a step back and launched a one, two, hook combination into the man's head, then his body, and then back to his head. The sixteen year old's hands were bleeding by this point, and he was growing tired of fighting.

This is dangerous, he mused, too many variables in a street fight - I'm a damn idiot.

The mugger reeled from the brutal assault inflicted upon him, but promptly charged Harman again. The teen failed to dodge another haymaker, but did manage to throw and rotate his body off of a hook that landed decently on his enemy. The thug was hit, and the sixteen year old was now facing the side of the mugger's body, thanks to his rotation.

Harman grabbed the stumbling vagabond and charged him into the alley wall.

The thug however, had only been knocked off balance by surprise and inexperience when it came to skilled combat. In reality the man Harman had pinned was much older, bigger, and stronger than his young attacker. The man hurtled Harman off of him and switched places with the boy, by pinning the sixteen year old against the opposite alley wall. The vagabond brought a brutal haymaker across his attacker's face.

Harman reeled and tried to slip the vagabond's grasp but failed. His heart was beating out of his chest at this point, as he felt his mind beginning to go numb.

The sixteen year old tried to bring a desperate knee up from the ground, but the assault did little, and generated only a laughable force, as he really had no idea how to throw such an attack. The thug only responded with a headbutt to Harman's nose, that caused the boy's mouth to fall open and his eyes to stream forth water.

Things started to go black, as Harman tried to launch his own headbutt, but failed as the other man just pinned him further against the wall.

Was this it? What would the thug do to him, if he passed out? In reality, he knew the only likely answer.

[Harman Dayis]

It's Just Not Our Problem...
8th of Summer, 516 AV

The thug screamed and felt back on to a black, canine face that was covered with crimson. Champion, Harman mentally addressed his dog - you loyal bastard!

Harman watched as the man was pulled down to the ground by the massive, and enraged, black Deerstalker. The sixteen year old paused as the vagabond tried to bat the vicious dog away. He was slightly sickened by what he saw, but nonetheless sprung into action. When the thug began to try and get at Champion's neck with his hands, Harman knew what he had to do.

The boxer scrambled to where the thug had dropped his knife, upon being hit by him. He unceremoniously scooped the weapon up, as Champion distracted his enemy.

Harman landed atop the thug violently, and in an inexperienced fashion. He had no idea how to sprawl, or wrestle. Still, he raised his free fist quickly and hit the individual that his dog had dragged down - so that the criminal would be distracted momentarily and not be able to get at Champion.

The sixteen year old brought the dagger he'd retrieved up and slammed it in the man's eye, in the next heartbeat that came after he launched the punch. He pushed and held the knife in the socket of his victim's skull, mitigating the mugger's struggles, and holding his head in place. Champion meanwhile tore at his throat.

The older man's body spasmed against the ground violently under Harman. The boy rolled off of the criminal, as the man became an nonliving corpse. He stared into the sky for a moment, with his back against the street.

He'd just killed a man, he noted.

He could have walked away, he mused. He hadn't planned to stab the thug, he told himself - it'd just happened. He'd hurt Champion, he reminded himself of the man's actions, and tried to rationalize his own. Of course, Harman knew the whole thing had been his fault.

Harman removed the stolen dagger from the eye of the man he'd killed, before he climbed to his feet.

The boy reached up to wipe his running eyes. He stopped, however, as he saw the blood and gore on his fingers. He dropped his free hand down to his side, and looked down to Champion.

"Come on, we're going home," he told the bleeding, and blood drenched, black Deerstalker.

The dog emanated a low whine in response.

"What? He hit you first," Harman asked of the dog.

The boy took a step and whistled for his pet. He didn't know how he felt about the current situation - he would have preferred to have not killed the man - he did feel bad for it - he realized. Still, the world wasn't a nice place, he mused. He could only protect his and his own, and that man he'd killed? That man hadn't been his problem, just his victim.

As he left the alley, Harman looked to the blood covered weapon he'd stolen from and used to kill a stranger.

[Aladari Coolwater]

Hey Harman. I already PM'd you about this, but I'm gonna need you to update your ledger with Summer expenses before I grade your threads. Let me know when you've done so and I'll finish up your grades. Thanks.