"Whoa there!"


The guardsman held up his hands, one spread wide and the other holding a halberd as the draft horse galloped toward the gate of the outer wall of Noria. This gate admitted into the eastern side of the city, the Noble District, and not just anyone could enter. This horse was built like a war horse but bulkier, obviously accustomed to more strenuous work and thus obviously an animal belonging to a farmer. However, there was a very armored man on its back wearing two swords on his left hip and wearing a countenance of cold intent. The horse clattered to a halt, kicking up dust on the hard packed road that would take it into the city if permitted.


"What brings you to Noria in such a hurry?"


Kerr threw back his hood, squeezing his legs tightly about the horse as he was riding bareback. "I am looking for Sir Hans Gruber, has he come this way?" The smile was missing, the jovial banter he usually leveled at those who he encountered was nowhere to be seen. "He should only be an hour or so ahead of me." The stud draft horse danced side to side, it's hackles up at the urgency of its rider but he controlled the animal well as his tone remained icy. The guard rubbed the back of his neck with his gauntlet covered free hand, considering the situation he'd been presented with.


Aye, the good knight passed through 'bout an hour ago."

"Where would I find him?"

"I don't know as I ought to..."

"He murdered a boy, raped a young woman, and left their father wounded on the family farm. I have bounty for him. Tell me if you can, else stand aside and I will find him myself!"


An older guard came out of the guardhouse that stood outside the wall, taking up a halberd designed in a much older time as he stepped out into the open. "You'll likely find him at the Diamond Pony, owned by Miss Tina the Lesser. That's usually where he ends up when his darker nature gets the best of him." Kerr knuckled his brow and spurred his mount onward, causing the younger guard to yelp and jump aside as the unshod animal carried the warrior through the gate. "Was that wise Sergeant," he asked of the older guardsman. "No, boy." The older man came to stand beside the younger, looking inward after the galloping farm animal. "But it was just."

---

The tavern, the Diamond Pony, was nice. Eclectic as all hell but nice. Well made, carefully maintained, but it almost looked like it had seen at least one brawl a week since its inception. This was a rowdy place by noble rich folk standards, where noble rich folk's rowdy children went to pretend like they were tough. Five of them. It had taken five of them to defeat a broken down farmer, his teenage son, and force themselves upon the poor girl who'd just reached the age of majority. The boy was dead trying to defend his family and home, the farmer was wounded, the girl wished she was dead. The mother had been in the back fields picking blackberries and missed the whole thing, thank the gods. Kerr slid the horse to a stop on the slick stone outside the tavern's wagon-yard. A young boy came jogging out and looked perplexed at the farm animal that greeted him.

Kerr handed the boy the rains and pressed a gold coin into his hand. That really made his eyes go wide. "Quarter bucket of water, brush it down with dry straw. It belongs to a farmer to the east of the city. If I don't get it back his wife will come looking for it eventually. After you've got that handled stay in the barn." The boy gave a questioning look at Kerr as Kerr pulled his cloak off and laid it over the horse's back. The question was answered when Kerr drew his longer sword and headed for the door into the tavern, causing the young boy to lead the horse swiftly into the stables. Through the door Kerr went and it swung closed behind him. To the outside world there was a long moment where nothing at all seemed amiss... until a man came bodily through the door to thud to the ground unconscious.

Next came a man in well made, expensive armor tangled in his own cloak and struggling to get his feet under him. Kerr came third. He only got a few steps in pursuit of the man in the expensive armor before three more piled out behind him with swords drawn. He sidestepped the backstab that the first of the three aimed at his back, spinning and hooking his blade behind the man's leading knee. There was a short cry as the tendon there was severed swiftly. He was out of the fight. The other two charged him, working together... poorly. Kerr parried thrusts from each but the third such thrust was driven in front of the man that didn't launch it, forcing him to draw short his own attack and fumble his own footing. He took the crossguard on Kerr's sword to the face before the pommel of that same weapon came down on the back of the other man's head. Both down and out.

That just left Kerr and Hans.

Kerr turned to find Hans tearing his fancy cape off himself. He drew his sword and snarled at Kerr. "She was just a farm girl!" "That's right," Kerr returned as he took up a two-handed high-guard stance. "Just a farm girl. For that, and three moss, here you find yourself." Gus was stressed, his nose was bleeding, incredulous and hurt. But somebody had spent coin on making sure he knew how to use that pretty sword of his, for he didn't just charge into melee. Probably his mother, knowing he'd have died a long time ago without some modicum of skill. Distantly, almost as if remembering a dream, Kerr was aware the people in the street had stopped gasping at the spectacle. They'd withdrawn to a safe distance and were watching with rapt attention the unfolding duel. "Three... moss?"

Kerr moved instead, completely out of willingness to have a discussion on the value of Sir Gruber's life. Smartly, Gruber moved forward to meet him. Blades clashed and the dance started. Someone had spent a lot of money to make sure the knight knew how to use that fancy sword. But it was swiftly apparent to Kerr that the other man had never really had to do any major fighting. His technique was lazy, bullying, too accustomed to being 'good enough' to get the job done. Bullying farmers had that affect on a man's skill. He was good enough to dance with, Kerr let it drag out. The clanging and thudding of blade against blade and occasionally caught on armor rang out through the streets. People were watching like it was a sport but neither man was intent to entertain. Efficiency, skill, and footing...

Gruber was tripped, a wide slash had missed and Kerr had hooked his foot inside of Gruber's while shoulder checking him. Gruber went to the ground awkwardly, banging his knee on the cobblestone but keeping his sword between himself and the mercenary sent to kill him for three pennies. "If she... if she hadn't have fought..." he knew he was done as he panted out one last excuse. Kerr drew his second blade with a twist draw, his stance changing to a mid-guard with his shorter blade leading the way. He said nothing in return and, for some reason, this seemed to enrage Gruber. The knight launched himself from the ground and tried a rather fancy thrust meant to spiral through Kerr's guard.

Instead, Gruber's blade hit the ground as a two-bladed parry snapped it from his grasp. A kick to his banged up knee dropped him to the ground once more with a cry of pain. He looked up only to find the swords of his opponent poised about his neck like a pair of scissors, crossed just before his throat. "If you'd just taken no for an answer," realization almost crossed Gruber's face before a swift movement from Kerr turned it into pain. He blacked out quickly as both sides of his neck were opened and blood poured down him, one side bright and the other side dark. A few ladies made sounds of horror but men drowned them out with cheers like they'd just seen the crescendo of a wonderful play. Kerr paused only to wipe both his swords off with Gruber's embroidered cape before heading toward the stables again.