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[Protégé]

He had gone to explore the town, and the alleys seemed to be the best place to start. Protégé knew that the best way to escape if need arises in a fight is to go through the confusing maze of alleys in a city, and he also knew a good way to tell how much crime resides in a city is by exploring its darkest corners. He was doing this now, looking down every alley, not showing fear or weakness, banging down with his spear to show he wasn't armed. It was a dangerous game he played, walking through an area where a group who knew more could gang up on you, but Protégé was feeling confident, and he felt this was neccesary.

So far, his exploring had been uneventful. He had seen what was normal, maybe a person hiding out, maybe a shady dealing, nothing that worried him. While it wasn't much to go by, it satisfied his belief that no town was free of crime. However, to someone who knew the mazes of the alleyways, there was always a way to escape. And when a man cannot stand and fight, flight is the next best thing.

[Gilsworthy]

A puff of wind blew at the back of Protégé's neck, nothing out of the ordinary, excepting the fact that a moment later a voice spoke over his shoulder, "Well who's this we have here." it said. The dark coated thief quickly backstepped a few paces out of reach of that dangerous looking spear, then slouched where he stood, hands in pockets. Maybe it was the moon, or something, but tonight Gil was feeling quite mischievous. His hands itched to be doing something, his feet forcing him to continue moving through the maze-like alleyways. Then here was this buttercup, a hard man by the looks of it, but still a prince compared to most of the scum the thief had been around. He couldn't remember if thieving was illegal in this city, the last one he'd been in had been pretty strict about that sort of thing, but that never mattered anyway. No matter the law, there would always be those who would break them.

[Protégé]

Quickly shifting around to see the man who had snuck up on him, Protégé pulled his cloak tighter to give him a small sign if anyone tried to get his back, and also to keep it out of the way. Tilting his spear until it was almost parallel to the ground, he took a step forward with his left foot while keeping his right arm with the spear bent. This allowed him to be able to step forward with his right foot while lunging out with the spearing if need arose, though he hoped it wouldn't go that for. Normally a hard crack to the head would stop any robber if they didn't turn and run at the sight of a warrior.

Keeping his tone casual, Protégé quickly looked the man up and down while saying, "Just a simple spearman who isn't afraid to walk the dark alleys and face the unknown. You may call me Protégé, but now you have the advantage of my name. What is yours, or do you keep you rname hidden in the same darkness in which you hide yourself?"

[Gilsworthy]

"You seem to have me all figured out." chuckled the thief darkly, reaching into a pocket and pulling out the first thing that came into his hands. He had to do something with them, or he would probably start twitching. Quite a strange mood he was in. Out of the pocket came a small hand sized blade, tiny enough to fit snugly concealed in the hand, sleek enough for throwing purposes. He flipped it up into the air and caught it effortlessly by the blade. Then it juggled into his other hand, a slight grin passing over him.

"I'm just a wanderer, whose name is Gilsworthy." he said, flipping it up, watching it glimmer in the moonlight, and catching it again. Not meeting the man's eyes would make just about any move he made unexpected, and any advantage would be helpful in beating his reach. If it came to a battle.

[Protégé]

Protégé listened carefully to what the man said, trying to find emotion or stress in the voice. If there was stress, the man could be planning something. However, his tone was perfectly natural, meaning the man was either confident, good at what he might do, or Protégé was assuming he was the wrong kind of person. All of these were possible, but he did not let up his guard. Speaking to the man, he said, "Or maybe I am assuming something that you are not. Whichever one it is depends on you."

Watching the knife fly up in the air, Protégé noticed Gilsworthy's skill and knew the man could throw the dagger if he wanted to. Raising his left hand to pull his cloak tighter, he pressed his hand against his chest to see if he still had his leather jerkin on under his shirt. Feeling the hard leather beneath his hand, he released his cloak and lowered his hand. He didn't know how good it would be, but he felt that it would deflect a glancing blow or stop it. "Apparently you and I are one and the same then, Gilsworthy. I wandered here on the road, seeking entertainment. What caused you to come here?" Looking at Gilsworthy's eyes, he saw them not focus on him, so he tensed his leg muscles and back muscles. If Gilsworthy went to throw the knife, he wouldn't have long to aim, so a quick movement could help him. Lots of precautions, all telling Protégé one thing: he needed to invest in a shield.

[Gilsworthy]

"No reason." replied Gil slowly. "It's just in me to drift from place to place." he said, the knife still flipping methodically through the air. It was true, no one place held worth for him, even when things had been going perfectly fine he had simply up and left. He didn't know if it was the thrill of adventure, the excitement of discovering new places for himself, or if he was just insane. Perhaps a combination of the three, or perhaps none at all. All Gil knew was that he never tried to cure himself of it, a kind of willfull disease if it was anything.

A feeling welled up inside, and without much thought to the matter, Gil asked, "Do you consider yourself a good dancer, Protégé?" Almost carelessly, yet with a precision garnered from years of practice, Gil flicked his wrist and sent the knife on a tangent straight for the warrior's chest. Not a fatal blow, if it struck, but if Gil thought he knew anything the knife would miss completely. There wasn't even any reason to fight, and when it left his hand he half made a motion to try and grab it back, his eyes widening slightly. His brain always took the worst moments to drop him back in his own shoes.

[Protégé]

Just like him to drift from place to place. Protégé knew that feeling. A feeling of longing for the road, never feeling well in one place....he stopped himself in midthought. He was getting distracted, not focusing on the opponent. Resuming his train of thought, he said, "A drifter can bring heaven or hardship, peace or peril. To them, it may be no reason to leave. But maybe it is."

It was a good thing Protégé decided to pay attention, for he might not have noticed Gilsworthy's next words if distracted. At the moment Gilsworthy finished dancer, Protégé knew he was going to hurl the dagger. Quickly twisting and sidestepping, he saw the dagger go past him. Moving back into place at the center of the alley, Protégé hardened his look and tilted the spear so it was pointed straight at Gilsworthy's chest. Speaking calmly despite the sudden attack, he said, "Perhaps it was the hardship one. Of course, you wouldn't throw a dagger at me just to rob me. So, either you are nervous, you are murderous, or you have been sent to kill me. I'll give you a few seconds to answer that, but any quick moves and I stop being calm and patient."

[Gilsworthy]

Gil stepped back slightly, hands raising only a fraction as the spear point leveled to his chest. What was he even doing? Sometimes he surprised even himself. "My apologies." said Gil, shaking his head slightly so his mane of black hair fell loosely about his face. Ever so slowly, he took one step back and moved as if to turn away. In a moment he turned back and flung his hand out, saying quite loudly, "BOO!"

The spear point pressed nearly up to his chest, but Gil could only helplessly grin, then dissolve into chuckles, then burst into a hysterical bout of laughter, going for a few seconds before putting a hand to his forehead and leaning back slightly as his laugh continued on. To Protégé it would undoubtedly seem he was speaking with a madman, but Gil found the situation to be the funniest thing he'd experienced in years. He was about a foot away from an uncomfortable amount of steel ready to stick him through, but he just couldn't stop his merriment.

It continued for about ten seconds, until it degenerated into mirthful chuckles. Gil wiped a tear from one eye with his cut-finger gloved hands and looked back to Protege. "I'm not your enemy, hah, put that thing away." he said, gesturing to the spear. "Whew! Sorry about that. Don't quite know what came over me. Call me Gil, Protégé, my friends do, and anyone who can dodge a knife that quick qualifies in my book."

Lifting a hand to give a shake and still seeing the spear there, Gil looked up and down it's length and twiddled his fingers before lowering them with a shrug.

[Protégé]

Protégé watched Gilsworthy begin to turn away, but did not raise his spear. It was always possible that Gilsworthy would just rush him and attempt to push him, but if his spear was in the way, Protégé was safe. Fortunately for Gilsworthy, he did not attempt to run to Protégé when he turned, or he would have been impaled. Quickly pulling the spear back an inch, Protégé watched in suprise as the man laughed like a lunatic. The man had escaped death, turned back and faced it again, and then just laughed at the joke of the whole situation.

Smiling, Protégé listened to the man speak after he calmed down, but didn't raise his spear at first. However, once the man did not make any quick moves to attack, Protégé slowly lifted the spear until it was back to being perpendicular with the ground. Swapping it to his left hand, Protégé stuck out his hand and said, "Don't worry. Any man who can face death that mcuh and laugh with a spear at their chest is a friend of mine. You can just call me Protégé, since there really isn't a shorter form of that."

[Gilsworthy]

A wide grin still covered Gil's face as he reached out and gave a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, chum." he said, then looked around. "Now i've only been here for a few weeks myself, but I can show you a few ways about these alleys. That is why you're out here, no?" added the thief after a moment's thought. Without waiting for an answer he turned and peeked out of the alleyway. "Good. Now follow me."

Taking off rather quickly, Gil darted across the moonlit street, silent as a shadow, then entered another alley across the way. A hand motioned from the shadows for the warrior to make his way over.

[Protégé]

Receiving the handshake, Protégé noticed Gil's grip. Not weak, so Gilsworthy wouldn't have been an easy opponent had it escalated to a fight. Good thing they were both calm people, and possibly with a touch of insanity. Nodding at Gil's offer to guide him through the alleys, Protégé tightened his grip on the spear and quickly dashed off to follow him. Another thing he had to learn: get an easier way to carry a spear while running.

Following Gil into the alley, Protégé looked around, taking in his surroundings. When not moving, observing was a good way to go. Turning to Gil, he whispered, "Apparently these alleys are not the best place to run around yelling your head off, eh?"

[Gilsworthy]

"Certainly not. Though there are times for shouting, certainly." said Gil in a rhyming kind of voice, perusing the alley with with eyes. So many facets to a place like this, and the common man would simply pass most of it by. "I don't think you need to worry about being attacked, not with that spear you carry around. You may want to watch your back, though, you can walk around the alleys all day expecting a frontal assault and never see coming the dagger that stabs you in the back. Ah, here it is."

Gil moved over to a slightly rusted pipe that ran up the side of a house that formed one wall of the alleyway. He tapped it and looked up it's length, grinned, and looked back to Protégé. "Tell me if you've seen this one before." Gil wrapped one hand around the pipe, then locked both boots around the bottom. The thief started to shimmy quickly up the pipe and in a matter of a few seconds he was levering himself quietly onto a rooftop. "There are quicker ways, but this is one of the easier ones. The trick is to do it silently, and that'll make a lot of noise since it's hollow. You'll need to do something about that spear if you want to start climbing." Then Gil watched to see if the spearman had the dexterity to climb his way up onto the rooftops with him.

[Protégé]

Protégé nodded to what Gilsworthy said, understanding that he was talking to an expert in these matters. Twisting the spear around, he let his wrist relax until the spear was back to parallel with the ground, but now the point was behind him. Any man who tried to stab him in the back was now in a worse spot.

Looking at the pipe, Protégé watched in awe as Gil quickly climbed up it without much trouble. Looking down at his spear, Protégé tried to figure out a way in which he could pull of the same feat. As he went to lay it down, and evalutate the situation, Protégé felt his cloak rustle against his back. Of course, the cloak could hold the spear. Pulling it off, Protégé had the point go through the back of it, then come out again near the top. Now the spear would be against his back, but the point wouldn't be in his way. Walking over to the pipe, Protégé mimicked how Gilsworthy had started, and did his best to keep it silent. He kept his body as still as possible to keep the pipe from rattling, and got to the top without too much trouble. Pulling himself up, he said to Gil, "Not as easy as it seems, apparently. A spear doesn't help much either."

[Gilsworthy]

The thief clapped his hands once or twice, the sound muffled by his fingerless gloves, and said, "Not bad, not bad. So now that we're on the rooftops we can get around much quicker. It's like running above the walls of the maze, you can pretty much bypass everything but you're much more visible. Follow me." With that he was off again, moving quickly up the slopes of the roofs and down the other sides, hopping quickly over the alleys onto the next and repeating the process. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the warrior was keeping up, and smiled when he saw he was. Not bad, not bad at all.

Falling back so they were side by side, Gil talked quickly as they moved, "So, now that we're up here there's the question of reaching the ground safely." He leaped another alley and continued, "Most of this stuff ends up being improvised, and that ability only comes from experience, but in a pinch you can always do this. Don't stop running, just do as I do."

Not stopping to elaborate, Gil moved to the corner of one house, dark overcoat billowing around him, and leaped out into space. Coming diagonally down against the far wall, he ground his boots into the edge and skidded smoothly down the side, slowing his momentum enough that when he landed in a crouch back down in the alleys he was completely unharmed, if a little dusty. Wondering if this would be too much for Protégé, Gil looked up and watched, ready to catch the man if he fell.

[Protégé]

Protégé kept up with Gil, looking all around when possible. From up here it seemed as if anywhere was accesible, and he could look around and see all parts of the city. Get to the tavern? Only a few rooftop leaps away. Travel to the barracks? Just go that way. So much more of the world was open to him, thanks to the pathways that Gil was showing him. Keeping up, he saw Gilsworthy look back, so Protégé nodded for him to go on. Checking behind him just to make sure they weren't being followed, a shadow of a smile crossed Protégé's face at how much distance they had covered.

Keeping beside Gilsworthy once Gil dropepd back, he nodded in response to what Gil was saying. Looking around, he looked for any way he could improvise a descent. Not seeing any obvious ones, he countinued to listen to Gil, and kept up with him as he moved along.

Once again, Protégé was in awe of Gilsworthy's skill. To be able to jump like that and slide down the wall with that much skill was something Protégé had never attempted, but he saw how it could be done. Looking at his spear, he knew that the best way to go would be for the right shoulder to be aimed at the wall, so that he could control whether or not his spear would hit the wall. Stepping forward, he pushed off with his left foot, and hit the wall with is right foot first. Throwing his shoulder forward, he leaned up against the wall to slow himself down. However, he took his lef tfoot off the wall too early, and hit the ground hard with it, sending a painful rattle up through the entire leg. Kneeling with his hands on his left knee, he grimanced at Gil and said, "I guess I've still got a little bit to learn if I want to get as skilled as you."