A lone man limped towards the shining lake, gasping from exertion and pain. There was a gash in his left leg, which was bleeding excessively. A piece of cloth torn from the man's cloak was wrapped around the wound, but it did little to hinder the vital liquid from leaking out of his body. It wasn't life threatening, but it would time to heal. Unfortunately, time was something the man did not have.

Shouts from behind made Lyon swear loudly. Leaning against a tree, he groaned. Damn! he thought, reaching down to grab hold of his sword. Why are they still following me!? In the distance, a large group of men could be seen approaching at a rapid pace. They were coming to finish off their wounded prey...and enjoy the spoils once the hunt was finished.

Lyon had been traveling with a group of merchants, hired as guard to assist them on thier way to Lomedor. Fate had taken a foul twist, however, and a large group of bandits had struck. None of the merchants had combat skills, and despite Lyon's best efforts to protect them, they were all now feeding the crows. He alone had escaped, with an injured leg. He had broke away from the sight of the slaughter, and had headed in the direction of Lake Aelin. The brigands had given chase, and now he was about to be forced to confront them, with minimal chances of emerging victorious. He was skilled, but there were at least ten of them, and he was incapitated.

They took their time. As the men approached, Lyon drew his sword and forced himself into a straight-backed position, taking a fighting stance. He refused to be defeated by this scum without a fight. The bandits, seeing that he wasn't going to give up, took a more cautious approach, circling around him and surrounding him. As they closed in, Lyon made his move.

Leaping forward as quickly as his injured leg would allow him, he slashed forward with his weapon, catching the cutthroat in front of him by surprise. The unfortunate fellows stomach was slashed open, and he fell to the ground, bleeding to death. Lyon spun on his good leg, ducking just in time to avoid an attack that was meant to behead him. He thrust forward towards his opponent's body, but the attempted stab was deflected, and the mercenary threw himself back as the man tried to kick him.

When he landed on the ground a few feet away, he scrambled up, and brought his sword in front of him. One bold thief ran forward and slashed. Lyon jerked his sword downwards to block the attack, but the strength behind his foe's weapon sent Lyon's long sword flying out of his hand. Weaponless, Lyon reached down and drew his dagger from his belt. The bandit made a vertical strike, which Lyon sidestepped. The brown-haired mercenary then proceeded to swing his dagger-wielding arm, slashing the man's throat. He died immediately as his windpipe was split.

"Stand aside!" one of the bandits roared, and Lyon got a clear view of someone standing approxiamently thirty feet away from him. The man who had spoken was moving his fingers in an intricate set of patterns, and a fireball erupted in his hand. The flaming missile was thrown towards Lyon. He couldn't move fast enough due to his slashed leg, and the magic hit him squarely in the chest. He was sent flying, and splashed into the lake, where he immediately began to sink, struggling to stay conscious.

Jack of Blades watched from a hidden point as a man fought with valient effort and a wounded leg. He had quickly cut some bandits down but lost his sword quickly and had to switch out to a dagger. He continued to fight until a bandit who knew arcance magic cast a firebolt at the man, sending him flying into the lake to sink. Jack took a moment to think, he ultimatley decided that this man could be a useful ally and he rushed around to get a jump on the bandits. He moved swiftly and one goal sat in his mind, slay the bandits and save the man. At this point Jack of Blades needed an ally.

Once he reached the backside of the bandits he could hear them laughing as cheering on the one who threw the firebolt. Jack came out ,slowly, his sword still sheathed as he clapped and applauded the bandit. "Amazing, you managed to defeat a man using your own little team!" He shouted as he approached the spellcaster. Onew of the bandits looked at him with a strange curiosity.

Jack did not go further before the one bandit who had given him the strange looks charged at him, "Die Jack of Blades! Stay in your hell!" Th bandit seemed to know of Jack of Blades. "Oh, so you have heard of me? I suppose that saves the waste of breath of trying to explain who I am." Jack of Blades said as he puled out his blade and impaled the bandit through the heart. "So now you know what will happen to you in a matter of seconds." He said as he kicked the bandit from his blade.

The spellcaster attempted to throw a firebolt, but Jack of Blades was not injured, and he was prepared for this inevitable combat. He did not charge the spellcaster but instead finished the other melee bandits as quickly as possible. First he went after the one who had kicked the man back, than he beheaded the one who had disarmed his blade. The bandits seemed easy at the moment but one caught him off guard and smashed him in the back with a club.

Jack of Blades stumbled a bit but used the momentum to impale another bandit before turning and stacking the bandit with the club on top of the first one. The weight of his blade was heavy and the spellcaster began to cast another firebolt. It took strength but finally Jack of Blades had the firebolt hit and burn the two bandits on his blade, setting his blade aflame and searing his hands.

Surpassing the pain he dropped the burnt corpses and made short work of the spellcaster before dropping his blade and diving in at the man that was drowning. As Jack of Blades splashed into the water all he could think about was how long it took to kill the bandits, and the hope that this potential ally was still alive. either way he did not truly care, but a willing and powerful ally would truly help.

He could see the man at last, still falling to the ground, he seemed to be alive so as quickly as he could Jack snatched the man as made his way to the top. The top of the water was visible and he reached for a stone on the edge of the lake. He put the man on the edge, and despite the full weight of his wet clothing he managed to pull himself up as well. His draconic warth dryed his clothing and his mask dripped with water. But these minor annoyances were easily ignored as Jack of Blades made sure the man was alive.

(I hope that was acceptable, just PM me if you have any problems with the post.)

Lyon could hear the absolute silence that existed only underwater, felt the thick pressure pushing against his ears. He sank quickly, held down by his thick clothing. As his lungs screamed for air, darkness began to close in on him. In his dim awareness, he realized that he was going to die. He was going to pass out, drown, and stay here, at the bottom of the lake, for all of eternity, where only the fish would visit him.

Then, suddenly, he felt someone grab him and begin dragging him up, towards the surface. As the two broke the surface, he was placed on a hard surface, and immediately began coughing, forcing the water out of his lungs. As air flew back into him, his brain became active again, and he struggled to sit upright as he blinked and pushed his hair away from his eyes. There stood a masked man in a cloak, looking at him. His immediate thought was that it was another bandit. But as he looked around frantically for a weapon, he realized that if this man was indeed a bandit, he would already be dead.

As he stood up, with a few winces, he looked down at his body. His leather armor seemed to have protected him from the main force of the spell, but the area around where it had struck was blackened and charred. He felt dull pain in his chest, and knew that he would probably have a few bruises. Still, it was much better than being dead.

He considered the masked man for a few moments. Then, finally, he spoke to him. "You saved my life." he stated simply. "I don't know why, nor do I know who you are. However, whatever the reason, I am indebted to you." He spoke grudgingly, slowly, not wishing to admit it. However, it was the truth. If this man hadn't been in the area when he had, Lyon would no longer exist in this world. After all of his experience, he had ended up having to rely on someone else to save him.

Looking over, he noticed the corpses of the slain bandits. It seemed this stranger had been quite thorough. "A very good job taking care of them." he said, letting his respect show in his voice. "If I hadn't been injured, they wouldn't have been a problem...but I guess I just wasn't quick enough."

Unable to stand on his leg any longer, he kneeled down, holding a hand to the cut. All of this strenuous activity had caused the bleeding to become worse. Ignoring it, he looked up at his saviour. "So, tell me: why did you save me?" He thought that it might be a good idea to find out the answer to this before he became to friendly with the man.

Jack of Blades waited patiently as his draconic warmth slowly dried his wet clothing, his mask had already dried and the man who's life he had saved seemed impressed by what Jack had done to the bandits. Right now the only thing Jack paid attention to was the seemingly obvious fact that this man had no idea who he was. It mattered very little to him but since his last journey his name was known and feared throughout Arda. But this man's ignorance to Jack of Blade's identity may actually help him more.

He waited patiently, paying very little attention to the man up until he finally asked the one question Jack had been waiting for, "So, tell me: why did you save me?" Jack had run this question through hismind at least a dozen times by now and he was fully prepared to answer. He turned his face to the man, his piercing dark orange eyes gazing in the man's blue eyes. "All things come in due time, but know that I do not save a man's life without asking something of equal value in return, but for now you do not have to repay that debt." Jack said rather frankly before turning his whole body to the man. His clothes were mostly damp now and just had a few moments to go before being fully dry once again.

"For now I ask for you to fullfill the first favor, of the destruction of these pathetic robbers." His voice held it's 'dark charm' and echoed quietly in his mask as he gestured to the bodies that lie on the ground. "You see, I have lost something of great value to me. It is not a physical item but instead a power that was taken from me some years ago. But the wizard who took it from me left a small trace of it left, enough to grow and multiply in power until it is restored. The power you hold seems to make it grow, and along with it seems to make me more powerful as well, all I request for now is your company until I reclaim my power, after that I will contact you to claim the debt from saving your life. And if you are to heal well enough in the time it takes me to regain my power I would like to spar with you to truly test your skill as a swordsman, which I am sure is of a high level." The power of which Jack spoke of was one that helped him several hundreds of years ago. but what he asked for was just a small piece of the puzzle that made up this power.

OOC: ((So sorry for the long delay. My computer has been experiencing difficulty, and I haven't been able to get online for over a week. I also apologize for the short post, I'm in a bit of a hurry.))

"All things come in due time, but know that I do not save a man's life without asking something of equal value in return, but for now you do not have to repay that debt."

"That is entirely understandable." Lyon said. "It was what I expected. You don't seem like the type to help someone for nothing. I have nothing against that, it's a wise way of living." He listened intently as the stranger told him about this lost "power" of his. It was a curious tale, and Lyon frowned. It sounded like some kind of sorcery, which the mercenary was not in any way comfortable or familiar with. He knew practically nothing about magic. Also, the man's request for his company sounded odd. He didn't know how his presence could help him. However, the stranger had saved his life, and he owed him greatly.

"I'm not exactly sure about how I could possibly help you regain this power that you speak of." he said, his frown deepening. "However, if it is my company that you wish for, you shall have it. It would be my pleasure to help a skilled warrior such as yourself." He glanced down at his leg, where the cut was still bleeding. It hurt like the devil, but it wasn't intolerable. He could manage.

He stood up to show that he was fine. "As for my leg, I am not concerned about it. It will heal enough for me to be perfectly capable in battle, and that is all that matters. Once that happens, I would be honored to spar with you." He limped around for a few paces, trying to work off the pain. "Forgive me for asking," he continued on, as he staggered about, "but what is your name? I am Lyon Camaris, a professional mercenary."

The man's ignorance would play greatly in Jack of Blades' plans. All he needed to do was stay around this source of power until his power was regained. "My name is of no great concern, but if you truly wonder you may call me 'Jack.' And I am sure that a warrior as skilled as yourself could be ready and have his strength regained within the hour. In my time I have seen many warriors recover after a deadly battle with wounds far worse than yours." Jack of Blades did not care if he may offend this person, all he cared about was a way to regain one of his former powers. And of course, the later use of this man's fighting capabilities.

The man named Lyon limped around a bit, apparently he was desperatly trying to regain his strength. This must not have been an ordinary mortal, perhaps not mortal in the least. Perhaps Jack of Blades would regain more than one power in this man's company. The power boiled in Jack of Blades' blood and his blood flowed, it shouldn't be long before he his returned to a fraction of his former glory.

Jack looked upon the corpses of the rogues and only saw them as rotting. They had only relied on ambushing and were not going to prove to be a use in Jack's plans. "The thing with blood is that is useless. A man could have his blood replaced by certain water and still live. Blood does not nourish land and it does not kill it, it simply stains the dirt for a few weeks, and clothes it stains for as long as their use. I have found only one blood that is of any use, and it is that of one's enemies to please them after a task's completion." He spoke from past experiances, and he was specifically referring to the blood of the foolish, those who believed that good would always prevail and that evil would always fall.