Boro launched himself up onto his feet, his sword whipping around to catch two of the bandits' throats. They fell to the ground, one letting out a choaking sound, the other grabbing his sliced throat as if trying to hold it together with just his hands. They would both be dead in seconds.
A quick assessment told Boro that there were still five men surrounding him with drawn swords. They began to react now, each moving in to try and kill him. They were many, but they were uncoordinated, and Boro was able to slip past two of their guards and get out of their ring of death. Boro spun himself around their backs using Wind Kisses The Valley, and sliced two of their ankles cutting through flesh and bone. One fell to the ground at once, clutching his wound and howling in pain and terror. The other tried to turn and found his injured leg unable to hold his weight up, he followed his wounded ally to the ground, hi
It took Boro a few hours, and he lost his way once, but when he finally got back to where he had left his horse he noticed that the bodies of the men he had slain earlier were still lying abandoned on the forest floor. With a sigh he began gathering stones to make a large cairn for the fall bandits. He muttered angrily to himself about his stupid honor not allowing him to leave more bodies behind for the forest creatures to eat, but he did not stop gathering the stones. It was nearly night time again by the time he had finished laying the last stone on the pile of bodies and he was completely exhausted. Still, he did not lay down to sleep. It was not out of fear for himself that he lit a lantern and walked his horse back to the road and began his long trek again. He was worried that stupidity would bring the rest of those men back here
Boro looked up at the parapets to the tall stone wall that encircled the city of Helfa. The wall itself was about 70 hands tall. Guards patrolled the top of those fortifications, their colorful plumed helmets and halberds peeking over the merlons of the wall. Boro rode through the open gates of the bustling city. The city of Helfa has a long history, existing as a relatively large town for nearly one hundred and fifty years before falling into the capable hands of Jetir Triem. Lord Triem was gifted the town about fifty years ago after helping the current King unify and stabilize Galaos. He turned the town into a sprawling metropolis of trade and entertainment. The city itself was grand, with most buildings standing with at least two floors. The roofs of the buildings were a rainbow of colors that added to the majesty of the city. Upon entering Hel
Without waiting for his friend's hand to fully drop, Littume lunged forward intending to end the duel quickly as he always did. They traded just a few quick blows, in those exchanges Boro learned everything he needed to win. Boro took a step and half spun to his left, avoiding a stab and followed it up with a quick slash using Plowing The Wheat to his exposed body. The young lord dropped his rapier and fell to the cobbled stone road. Boro's strike had left a shallow gash across Littume's finely embroidered shirt and chest. Blood slowly began to soak into the silk of the shirt, spreading over it, ruining it forever. It was the quickest duel Boro had ever been in.So much for this Blade Master, Thought Boro, as he smiled internally.Littume held his bleeding chest, wailing like an infant. His friends ran to him, one lifting him from the ground and carryi
A few hours later Boro found himself waiting in a large room of his own in the Lords mansion. His things, and Dingir too, had been brought over to the mansion. Boro had been bathed and bandaged after being brought up from the dungeon. A doctor had inspected all of Boro's injuries and chided him for his impetuous actions. Luckily the doctor only felt a single broken rib, and two re-fractured ribs, the ones that he had gotten from his duel with Mika the previous week had mostly fully recovered before this event, and said that Boro would just need several weeks, to a whole months time for it to heal fully. If not for the excruciating pain he felt every time his chest expanded he would have laughed heartily at that. The last week, and more then likely the weeks to come as well, would leave him very little room for proper rest and relaxation. Boro needed to move quickly or else he risked Tutijas' trail running cold.
Boro sat in front of the Lord of Helfa, his mind reeling. This minor lord dared to plot rebellion against the King of Galaos. He had even go so far as to ask this young blade master, who's father had died fighting under the banner of the man Jetir was plotting against. He dared to have the audacity to ask him, HIM, the son of Bora The Bold. For a moment rage filled him, but as soon as he felt it, he snuffed it out. "I know this is no easy thing to ask, so I will let you think on it." Lord Jetir said in a solemn tone, and called in for one of the guards outside his door. "Sir Donall, please escort Master Boro back to his rooms" Turning back to Boro, he added, "I shall call on you tomorrow" And with that dismissed Boro. The meeting had not taken long, as such Boro had the entire day free to him. Although Lord Jetir
The next day Boro spent the morning sleeping off the drink from the night. When he woke, mid-morning, he readied himself for his second meeting with Lord Jetir. His time at the Golden Goose last night had kept him from thinking too hard about the Lords offer but now he thought it through. He held much animosity to the King for what he had done to Boro's family. He had often day dreamed of confronting the King when he was a child, challenging him to a duel for the throne and killing him and restoring his families name. But as he grew older those dreams he recognized for what they were, the foolish dreams of a young, angry boy. Now this man had offered him a path to making that dream a reality. Would he really pass it up? Boro spent his time waiting for the summons thinking this through, viewing the issue from every angle. In the end, when the knock at his door came and the guard entered announcing the summ
Hearing Lord Jetir's words struck a huge mental blow to Boro. He had resented his father, but only for his role in the fall of his family. In truth, Boro still loved and idolized his father for his legendary skill and strength. His goal to be the greatest blade master was to restore his family name and honor; a large part of that goal was so that people no longer said Bora the Bold's name with spite. How could he not want to be like the man he so admired, the father that he loved and hated too? Boro's mother spent much of his childhood, after Bora's disgrace, telling Boro that his father was a great man and that if he could have done things differently, then he would have. She was convinced that he did the best he could to protect Galaos and bring about peace. But no amount of well speaking could fill the hole left in her when he had died and they had become destitute. That angered Boro even more, becaus
Although he was yet to be acknowledged as a blade master, Boro was a few steps away from that title officially. There were a few ways to obtain the title of blade master. The most common way was to defeat a titled master in a duel, whether that be a duel to the death or not, beating someone who holds that title, usually witnessed by others to authenticate the claim, would allow one to become a blade master. Furthermore, being tutored by an acknowledged master, and in turn being acknowledged by that master, was another way for one to finally obtain that title. Boro had yet to have either of those occur yet, so Littume's request was highly unusual. As Boro could not acknowledge Littume's sword skill as a master, then his tutelage would only be good for further Littume's skill. Training under someone not yet a master, was something not often done. A perspective master would only seek out those that could ack