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Watching the men slowly rouse themselves, Jakob stepped back, only to be bumped into and held. For a moment, he tensed but a quick glance to the side reassured him it was only Laeris.

When the soldier mentioned leaving, Jakob gave a quick jerk of his head and did as Laeris had suggested. He really didn’t expect that he needed to be the one following suit in this particular case as they were merely attempting to vacate the area with alacrity.

However, perhaps he ought to have allowed Laeris to lead, he thought as he looked back at the hovering crowd from within which the shouting that sounded oh so much like Laeris emitted.

A shirt?

Jakob sighed heavily and smirked. It… was amazingly similar. He hoisted his pack and, seeing a group of three more men rushing through the crowd to obviously aid their companions (didn’t brigands ever come in groups of less than fifteen for heaven’s sake? There must have been a rule written down somewhere in some rule book that only highwaymen and pickpockets got to see) Jakob slipped back through the pressing onlookers.

Even the unconscious man had had time to get to his feet by the time Jakob reentered the cleared circle. His walking staff whizzed angry bees behind and around him as he stepped beside Laeris and gave the man a grin.

"You know, this isn’t the way to keep your head low," he said with a laconic drawl, the absence of interest on his face replaced by an amused but sharper gaze of a man well accustomed to dealing with trouble. "There are more coming, of course," and even though he spoke quite calmly, attempting to bring his companion back to some semblance of sanity, he also simultaneously settled with his back to Laeris while the street toughs surrounded them in a lazy circle, like hounds around a spitting cat.

.Jakob’s smile was soft, as if the reminiscing held something sweet and lost. It wasn’t painful really, to do this again, to go back to back with a hot headed fighter. Yet, Jakob would have gone longer had he the choice, before he were forced to recall his own greater losses.

"No hope for it, I guess," he stated and smiled when the other three joined, one launching himself through toward Laeris, the others taking their cue and rushing the two men in the center.

"Why.. can’t you… fellows ever… come one.. at… a time?" Jakob chuckled and not so easily fought back the sudden whirling of blades and bodies. The brigands had to be careful not to harm one another but Jakob and Laeris, being only two of them, had no such concerns. Well, unless Laeris’ love affair with his shirt turned him too blood thirsty to distinguish friend from foe. Jakob felt rather confident he could deal with the outcome if it should have come to that. Until it happened, though - he had his hands full trying to duck a broadsword and butting his staff in against another man’s knee to drop him.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

Though Laeris would never admit it, he felt comforted when he felt the press of Jakob's back. He tilted his head to glance at his apparent partner for the time being and seemed to calm slightly. "I couldn't very well let them get away with ruining my shirt. They don't seem to realize how bloody expensive these are, and how bloody short on funds a campaign not funded by monarchy is." Of course, these men may be just as poor, if not more so than their small campaign. Not that Laeris noted, or really cared for that matter. Why should he? He used to fight to defend these people. In fact, he was still fighting to defend these people. Some necessities were taken, like for basic survival. If a good shirt was so much to ask...

With a light shake of his head, Laeris quickly left those thoughts behind and viewed their current predicament. It was as Jakob had said. More were flocking towards them. Not exactly the brightest of thoughts, but Laeris was quite convinced that they could be handled.

When the first man charged, Laeris was more than ready to meet him as the scimitar flowed smoothly and quickly through the air in one handed slices, which left his other limb open for grapples or quick blows when ever it could cut under defenses. His actions were smooth, and though he guarded all open sides around him, he was wary about putting his blades too far back. Obviously a man used to fighting with comrades, the blade didn't come anywhere close to threatening Jakob.

Of course, there was only so long a man could fight while guarding another's back without having his moves studied and familiarized by their foes. It was made all the more difficult to stand his ground since he wasn't fighting to kill, despite the apparent blood lust his ruined shirt had put him in. Though he had lost no ground in his current stand off, he had gained none either, and when comparing the odds of plenty to one, the one would definitely tire first.

That meant they had to change things...

Laeris eased his shoulder back to put pressure on Jakob's, hoping that he would catch the drift and play into the motion as Laeris tried to encourage a left bound spin with his shoulder arched tightly against Jakob's own back. With the scimitar swinging on strictly offensive, he waited to spin around and hack at the other adversaries that were expecting a staff instead of a scimitar.

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I will not kill you... in all technicality time will kill you. I'm just a contributing factor ~ Damarian Vasilis Zaccheo

I do not get moody. I get murderous ~ Saigyn

[A Guest?] ~ Advanced -Arlix-
[The Five Lights] ~ Advanced -Laeris Etheral Jostish- -Valcenz-
[Dove's Bane] ~ Advanced -Alloyscious Haryiel-
[Labyrinth] ~ Advanced -Triton Ochayne Demisou-

Despite Jakob’s gardening experience and solo experience in fighting off brigands of his own, he was, in the end, more than aware of the nuances of fighting with the aid of others. It was not instinct, but care and knowledge which made him step and swivel around at the shifting of weight behind him. Not completely sure what Laeris planned, still he had his balance seated well in the center and found that with the motion of the elf he fought with that before he’d taken a second breath, there was a whole new crowd he faced. With a grimace, he left the broadswoard to the rapier (a good thing, as he’d been truly struggling with it), and instead, went up against the somewhat shocked fellows on the other side of them.

Catching sight of another man breaking through into the circle, Jakob panted, "They.. just keep coming.." and glanced back at where Laeris seemed to be doing a finer job that Jakob was in terms of fending them off. Of course, this could have been a simple act of comparison - where one never sees how well one does and Jakob hadn’t time to really examine the idea. Instead, he found himself against a larger number and no trees to leap into.

"C’mon Jakob, you take the puny one, I’ll take the tallish one with the dumb look!" a voice rang in his memory and Jakob’s eyes swept over the group, feinting and deciding that fending off may not be the answer as he took the moment of surprise their switch had offered him and quickly dislocated an elbow with a deft crack of the staff upon an arm. Hopefully just dislocated. He hadn’t any real wish to hurt the poor fellows.

"You’re too nice to them, Jakob. You really shouldn’t stop me because one of these days, that soft heart is going to get us both killed."

Jakob whirled his staff overhead , angled downward in a pretty show that wasn’t really more effective but always looked good and sometimes managed to make attackers reconsider. But then, he’d always had the much taller, broad shouldered elf behind him. Laeris was his own type, not golden and alive, but battleworn and like an old dog that would not let go. The effect wasn’t the same, Jakob was sure.

Still, it managed well enough and as two others came at him, he sidestepped, carrying blows to the right of Laeris and swept feet out from one of the men, slamming the end of his staff into the face of the other. Something gave, made a wet squelching sound; Jakob wincedin sympathy.

The men were fair enough fighters, but the fact was, they were street fighters, rough, hungry predators who needed to get something for their troubles. Hearing a crash of steel and then a groan from over his shoulder, Jakob felt certain the looks passing over various faces were related directly to the worth of anything they might have gotten off of Jakob’s and Laeris’ bodies against their already growing injury list.

Pride wasn’t the greatest choice nor was it something which led to a long life in the marauding business. Jakob went for the third man while the other two struggled up and the third fled into the crowd. Neither of the other two helped one another up, yet they both melted backwards as well.

"One of these days, you’re not going to be so lucky, my dearest of friends," the laugh sped through him as Jakob turned to face off the last of the men only to find they had taken their cue from the others and were dispersing rather hastily.

Jakob stared at the disturbed dust and cobblestone, the fallen over basket of apples which strew the roadway before Laeris and he smiled with a sadness he’d never forget. Hoisting his staff onto his shoulder, he looked about himself, caught his bearings by way of a reddish booth canvas and began to head back to where they were expected.

"My luck ran out long ago, TD," he muttered low to himself. Then, looking back at his companion, he grinned a wide grin which he found often did a fair enough cop at covering what was going on underneath, "I think I’m bound for a tankard of ale, my friend. Or at least another street, hmm?"

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis