losthellhound

(Disclaimer: this is a very short story, with no real background and such, and is fantasy. I have more of these but I dont really see thier value in writing, and such (yeah poor me) and Im looking for critique of the writing. If you guys like it, and want to see more with these two characters, let me know and I can post more)

Night's Encounter

As the sun set over the city, a warm southern breeze carried the sounds of summer, the scents of taverns, and a lone merchant crying out the last wares of the day. A solitary figure rode slowly down the street, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before dismounting outside a two story building. His body and features were well hidden under a heavy black robe and cowl, even though the summer heat still lingered. He tied the large horse to a post and whispered into its ear, smoothing its flanks with a gloved hand. With one look up and down the empty street, he drew a mace and stepped quietly into the building.

Inside the building was dark, and a lone torch on a far wall only served to make shadows dance across the room. Along every wall was glass cases filled with weapons, trophies, and statues. More of the odd cases dottted the floor, creating a maze of reflected light and shadows. The figure walked silently past them all, his gaze panning from one side to the other as if looking for hidden enemies.

Reaching the end of the room he stopped. He raised his mace to eye level it flared until the head was basked in blue eldritch flames, illuminating the wall and an iron statue of a clentched fist. He pulled off the cowl of the robe, and the flames lit up his face, sharp featuers, and pale white skin. His hair hung down in two braids tied off with black leather, and under his robe he wore heavy plate. With a soft whisper he raised his hand and let it rest softly on the fist.

He felt a rush of air, as if he was falling, the sound of metal against stone, and the smell of burning powders, then, as quickly as the sensation started, it faded away. The figure found he was in a defensive crouch, his mace held in front of him, the fire dripping off the head of the weapon. With a quick look around he stood, and sheathed the mace in a holster at his side.

He never saw the shadow leap for him, or if he did he could not react fast enough to draw his weapon or jump out of the way. Instead he was caught off balance and his assailant slammed into him, letting the momentum carry the smaller, sprier attacker into a roll.

"Too slow Orpheus." The shadow mocked him, her voice sweet and lilted.

Orpheus only growled, and regaining his footing, once again drew the weapon at his side. He let the head of the mace touch the ground, and sparks lept off of it, making the shadow move back slightly. This was his cue. With a powerful jump he covered the distance between him and the attacker and swung the mace high, just missing the shadow's head. The swing left an arc of flames, which illuminated his attacker, clad in leather armor and a similar black cloak. In her hands she wielded two small blades, and the smile that danced across her beautifull features was filled with laughter.

"What was that?" She exclaimed, watching Orpheus complete his swing.

"Just making sure your feet are were I want them to be." Orpheus replied.

With that he kicked his leg out and pulled, hooking hers and sending her flailing backwards into a chair near the wall.

"Now that was satisfying Tallanvor. You should watch moves like that." Orpheus smirked, as he measured and corrected his balance.

It was Tallanvor's turn to growl, an animal sound matched by a sudden glint in her eyes. She jumped so she was crouched on the chair and crossed the blades in front of her menacingly.

"You ready old man?" She asked, her tone serious.

Orpheus unslung a crystal shield from his back, lashed it to his off hand and nodded silently. Tallanvor didnt wait for anything more, but lept at him, swinging one blade then the other, never letting her gaze fall from his. For each attack she dealt he met with shield and mace, sending sparks and small shards of crystal flying as he slowly retreated across the hall. He didnt have to look behind him to know where the long oak table was, or where the chairs were, and stepped around them as Tallanvor attacked, obviously becoming impatient.

"You going to fight? Or just back yourself into a wall?" She asked, her breath ragged.

Orpheus chuckled but didnt answer, and her attacks increased in ferocity. Orpheus deflected a blow with his mace and was left unbalanced, and a dagger caught him across the cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. Orpheus stepped back and shook his head to clear the fog, then pushed forward, bashing Tallanvor back with his bulk and the weight of the shield. She crouched on the ground, laughed softly and stood to her full height, stretching languishly for a moment and tilting her head.

"Awwwhh. Im sowey." She mocked, spinning a blade in her hand.

Orpheus threw the shield onto the table and hefted the mace in one hand, making the flames from it's head leap higher before taking an advancing step towards her. Before he could see her move she had taken a pouch from her robe and threw it into the fire, bathing the room in a bright blinding light. As the stars cleared in Orpheus' vision he raised his mace again, looking around but Tallanvor had hidden again. He closed his eyes and waited.

"One, two, three." He counted softly under his breath.

In a fluid motion he reached behind him, over his shoulder. A smile crossed his now bloody face as he caught Tallanvor's arm mid-stab and leaning forward flipped her over his shoulder onto the table. She rolled but he was already there, holding the mace across her throat.

"Yield." He demanded.

"Never." She growled back, struggling against his hold a monment, then leaning forward to lick a drop of blood from his chin.

He pushed down harder on the mace, and her grin disapeared, the glint in her eyes turning dark once again. With a sudden burst of strength she pushed and rolled away from him, stepping deftly from a chair and onto the table, then returned to a crouch.

"Lets finish this." She growled. He noticed her posture had changed to be more aggresive, and her frame shuddered under ragged breath, though she seemed to not be tiring any. He quietly stepped onto the table-top and turning to face her he nodded again, rubbing an arm against his face to clear the blood from his eyes.

An unseen, unheard aknowledgement started the fight again. Tallanvor stepped forward with a strong thrust, and Orpheus met it with his mace, following through with a swing of his own. Again they fought, back and forth across the table, blow for blow. A wicked hit to Tallanvor's arm jarred a dagger from her grasp and it flew across the room, and a cut to match the one on Orpheus' cheek crossed his off-arm.

Tallanvor wrapped her tattered cloak around her and crouched, a split second she was in the air, a flurry of blows that forced Orpheus' weapon off to the side and ended with Tallanvor's dagger against his throat.

"Yield." She demanded. Her hair hung over her face in wet strands and her breath was heavy and ragged. She pressed the dagger harder and a bead of blood appeared, and Orpheus twitch involuntarily.

"Never." He responded.
With a low throaty growl she stepped forward, but instead of sliding the dagger across his throat, so easy as that would be, she grabbed his neck with the other hand and pulled him down until thier lips met.

As the dagger and mace fell to the ground, the sparks flashed and the flame sputtered, until the room was once again left in darkness.

__________________
"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
-- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death