(For the sake of being closer to Level 3, I'm just going to say we're starting out at Level 2) Mal quickly reached into his quiver, drawing out an arrow and nocking it onto his bow. Based on muscle memory, Mal hardly took the time to aim properly, looking in the general direction of his target and releasing the bow. The arrow flew true, and struck a small little green creature in the lower back. It wasn't enough to kill it, but the blow was painful and stunned the vicious thing, allowing Baile to strike it down with his sword. Baile was a young male adventurer that both Mal and Kessler just happened to come across who was in need of some assistance. Mal was sure that Kessler was helping Baile because he was extremely altruistic and didn't want to let down his goddess. Mal knew why he was helping Baile though--it was also out of altruism, but he was never going to admit that to anyone else. He'd merely say something along the lines of how he thought Baile was going to take a few hits for him while he sat back and picked or he needed the extra coin so he decided to team up with the two. Either way, after that last round of enemies, Baile decided that he was done for the day. The adventurer--who didn't look a day over 14 or 15--thanked both Mal and Kessler for helping him increase his skills in the dungeon. Mal really didn't have a problem helping the kid--he seemed pretty capable on his own. Plus Kessler was an absolute beast in the dungeon. He must be coming down here nonstop the way he was knocking creatures off their feet--even the larger ones. Mal mainly played support with his bow and fiddle, but even with that, he didn't have to do much--just a little crowd control here and there. Baile eagerly shook both Mal's and Kessler's hands allowing both adventurers to offer a goodbye before leaving the dungeon. Mal grabbed the teen's forearm and shook, smiling and nodding. "Hey, don't act like we helped you that much. You're not half bad yourself. I'm no expert with the sword, but you've got a natural talent there. Just keep yourself alive and try not to be stupid...grab a few friends next time, yeah? Now get out of here." Mal would give the kid a playful slap on his leather-bound bottom before turning to Kessler and latching his bow to his back. As he looked the hybrid up and down, he knew that Kessler was a pretty sweet kid, but...man, could he tear up some @$$ down here in the dungeon. Running both hands over his face to pull back a few strands of hair, Mal leaned on the nearby wall and crossed his arms. "Nice kid. Seemed pretty eager to be down here all the time...hope he doesn't die." The last part of Mal's sentence, about hoping that Baile didn't die, sounded like sarcasm, but it was a true statement. If there were two types of people that Mal wanted to see do well, it was kids and the elderly. He had a soft spot for both, but he wouldn't come right out and say that. Mal looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see how the sun was setting in the sky. But he knew that it was probably going to be nightfall in an hour or two. He looked back over to Kessler as he spoke. "Getting a little late. You done for the day? I'm probably going to head up...not sure I want to get caught anywhere near this place when the sun goes down." @Kessler Cole
It was while Mal was helping Baile that Kessler had focused on making sure nobody else interfered with their little training session. With small goblins pouring in from the front, Kessler kept his gaze focused on the herd; His pupils had already narrowed into slits, his War Tiger marks at his cheeks had come into view from their normally faded and invisible state, even his ears had risen fromt he top of his head occasionally twitching from the 'Thwap' of arrows being fired that let him know Mal was still okay. Kessler knew his job was to thin the heard though. "I can take five-- Twelve means two for Baile-- Cripple first, kill second--" His mind raced as the small green goblins charged forward. With a heavy sigh, he stepped forward as the goblins charged with their tools, his first instinct was clear as he lifted one hand to swat the blade from one of their hands. With the momentum of his arm, he thrust his leg out into a second one to push him back into the group before rotating into the first with his knee to finish it quickly. As the others began pushing their way through he swung his leg back around using the force of his knee for rotation power to thrust his leg back out into the third goblin. His expression was indifferent as his grieve stabbed into the goblin's face, his foot crashing down bringing a palm forward into the fourth before grabbing it by the arm to throw it back towards Baile making it stumble as it fell towards it's new opponent. Keeping his focus on the goblins, he finished the first three off before continuing through to the fifth with another swat to break a goblin's guard while stepping on the sixth's foot to halt his advance. The swatting hand swing back in a closed fist through the Sixth's teeth with a haymaker before his elbow bent into the face of the fifth sending it back once more pushing against the wave to halt it's advance before whirling around to thrust the sixth through that tunnel as well burying them under each other. It was like this that Kessler bought time for Baile to finish goblins off while Mal supported them, whenever he ran out of monsters, Kessler would thrust another dazed monster towards him before burying himself back into the wave. It was only when he saw Mal congratulating Baile that Kessler tried to speed things up and finish them off. "You did pretty well-- but you have to be careful and remain vigilant. Your forehand might be the one controlling your sword, but the reserve hand adds to the power of your swings. You should also be sure your footing is always stable, with your weight constantly shifting as you exchange blows--" Kessler started a small lecture as they began seeing the young lad off. Kessler's training wasn't what he would call complete, but few knew live combat with the level of intimacy he did as a junior. Kessler wouldn't hesitate to offer the boy a handshake on the way out as well, but he flashed a bitter smile looking down at his hands that were stained and still dripping reds up to his elbows. It was for this reason that Kessler wore his jacket, getting stained with this stuff wasn't any fun, but he couldn't find a better alternative then having a black jacket that the blood would fade into eventually. With a sigh, seeing the boy running off, Kessler gave a proud nod of understanding in response to Mal's concerns. "He should be fine... The hardest part for adventurers is always that first kill and near death experience. He should be fine from now on I think." He admitted with a bright and kind smile that didn't quite fit his blood splattered frame. Hearing Mal's concern for the dungeon at nightfall though, Kessler blinked briefly before chuckling back with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's not so different at night, there's more unsavory people maybe but you can't see the sun down here anyway you know? I should probably spend some time at the garrison making a patrol though." He said thinking back to his occasional moonlighting as a watchman, it wouldn't be a bad thing for him to put a bit of time in there rather then the dungeon where his goddess would worry.
Mal smiled as he listened to Kessler give Baile pointers in combat. Probably no better adventurer to listen to in terms of combat prowess because from what Mal could see, Kessler got into his rhythm and just pounded anything in his path. He didn't know if the hybrid was leaning more on technique or just sheer force of will. But it was cute to watch him give Baile a quick summary of what he needed to work on--no way that Mal had gone into that much detail. He doesn't see the battlefield the same as Kessler--he's more of a generalist, attempting to control the crowd overall as opposed to how to dispatch them one by one. Those were just the abilities gifted to him through nature and nurture. Kess was obviously gifted the lion's share of the physical attributes. But it worked out well--Mal could hang back and support, and Kess could carve a path in the crowd. And the contrast between Kessler's cheery smile and his blood-stained...everything...was not lost on Mal. It was one of those moments where you smile and nod, hoping that the person doesn't snap and add you to the blood that was starting to dry. He knew Kess was a good guy, but it might throw off some other adventurers. Reaching behind his back, Mal drew out a towel that he used to polish his fiddle, but it was relatively clean. He threw the towel in Kessler's direction, smiling as he spoke. "Okay killer, you should probably wipe that blood off before we do anything. Looks like you just bathed in your enemies in the most literal sense, and I gotta say...it's a little scary." Mal looked past Kessler to a group of adventurers leaving the third level of the dungeon, heading over this way. Kessler's comment about the garrison patrol drew his attention from the group though. "Wait, you patrol the garrison too? Where do you find the time to be a ladies man, then?" Obviously just poking fun at the hybrid, his attention was drawn back over to the group who were passing them by. He only caught bits and pieces of the conversation, but they were chuckling about something, which made Mal curious...was it a dirty joke? He wanted to hear it too. But it wasn't a joke at all. One of the men spoke the most about the situation that he witnessed on the third level. "...and then I said to the old dwarf, 'Hey, I need to leave...don't want to be the third wheel.' Get it?! 'Cause his stupid little onion cart had wheels...not like he's gonna be usin' that cart after those monsters tear him a new one..." Mal figured he heard enough about the situation, making his presence known to the group that he was eavesdropping. He acted all chummy with them, putting on a passable facade. "What're these old people doing in the dungeon anyway, am I right? Trying to relive the glory days. That old fart needs to go home and lie down before he hurts himself." One or two of the group members looked suspiciously at Mal, but most of the them either piped up in agreement or laughed at the comment. Mal smiled and gave them a wave before turning to Kessler and giving him a more somber expression, sighing. "Look, I think I know that guy down there...pretty sure he owes me money. I don't want to see him get hurt either, don't get me wrong...but I wouldn't want him to die knowing that his debts could pass onto his family. That would be...y'know...dishonorable. Plus, it's hard collecting money from kids. They don't usually have any." That whole sentence was a pretty hot pile of horsesh*t. Mal had a soft spot for the young and the elderly, especially those who were too old to do the things they used to be able to do. He would listen to his mother talk about what she used to do when she was younger, and how it depressed her that even walking was an arduous task nowadays. But Mal didn't want Kessler knowing that he was a softie--gotta keep his street cred strong. If word got out that Mal had obvious weaknesses, there are some unsavory characters that could use that to their advantage. Can't have that. Nope nope. That and Mal just assumed that Kessler would be down for saving another person's life--the hybrid was extremely altruistic from what Mal knew of him. So he just had to make sure he had a credible alibi for helping out someone other than the kindness of his heart.
Kessler could only laugh bitterly back at Mal's comment about him bathing in the blood of his enemies. It was something that Kessler felt didn't suit him, but it was an inevitable side effect of the skills he inherited from his parents. His father's precise and focused steadfast demeanor combined with his mother's ruthless and war-mongering heart; He inherited his skills from the both of them, and though he didn't feel they fit or suited his personality, they were unfortunately aptly named as much as he denied it. Initially accepting the towel, at first he was a little worried about using it. "Are you sure? It'll stain you know?" He commented, knowing that blood would stain the fabric, more concerned about the condition of Mal's towel then his own clothes it seemed, but it was for that reason Kessler wore black anyway... His outfit unfortunately didn't start that color. After a few concerned repetitions of asking if it was alright though, Kessler would finally begin wiping himself off if Mal didn't take the towel back. First his face, then his armored hands. At the very least, his clothes only seemed wet when glanced over, but the red splashing his face and armor was more glaring and obvious. The question about the garrison made him chuckle though, shaking his head as if not knowing exactly what to say in the end he could only give back a weary answer. "Well... Isn't that because they just come to me? I've not really been one to look for girls myself but-- Well, trouble always seems to find me somehow." He admitted with a wry and self-depreciating expression knowing that such situations were the bane of his existence. He simply couldn't deal with those encounters but they always seemed to fall straight into his lap. It was only when he heard the cruel mocking words of the other adventurers that Kessler stiffened. For a moment, the towel covered his face as he paused, the brief shock was enough for him to be stunned. It was an 'intolerable' thing, to mock elders, to push them down when it was only because of their efforts that the young can rise up. Much like Mal, Kessler's mom as well was in a similar condition, confined to a bed because of an accident all she had left were the stories of her youth rampaging with his father and supporting him from the sidelines with advice. He felt that if his mother had a chance to come in in a wheel chair, she'd no doubt make an attempt to try and relive some of that past excitement. As Kessler pulled the towel down from his face, his pupils would have narrowed into a feline slit, his war tiger marks at his cheeks emboldened and the ears at the top of his head flicked up. Murderous intent poured out from every pore of his body like a vicious and savage tide prepared to sweep away anything in it's path. Clenching an armored fist, he was tempted to charge after the group and change their mind, but instead he thrust his palm out into the dungeon wall, his fingers sinking into the stone as if it were made out of pudding before twisting out a fist sized stone as he spoke. "No, I'll-- We... Should definitely help him." Kessler answered, flashing a bright smile, as if he didn't realize just how bloodthirsty and tyrannical his presence became. "We can't just stand by and let something happen to him, though it's a shame I can't call for a ride down, if we hurry we should be able to make it right?-- Did they happen to know exactly where he was?" He asked keeping a hold on the stone, trying to slide it into his jacket pocket.
In reference to the towel Mal lent Kessler, after seeing how much blood the hybrid had wiped off himself with it, he decided it was less borrowing and more giving. "Yeah, no...you can keep it. You might need it again when you decide to explode more creatures with your fists." Trouble finds Kessler? If the definition of trouble was the way his goddess looked, then Mal needed to find more of that trouble. The kind of trouble he found was unpaid gambling debts, drunken brawls, and someone giving him a bad review on his fiddling. But he had seen Kessler's type before--the guys who draw in women and don't even know it. Just a combination of great genetics, a good heart, and a little bit of luck from time to time. Mal thought he was pretty lucky, but if he remembered what Amaterasu looked like...well, he would concede that Kess was far luckier. When Mal happened to look over at Kessler to explain what his intentions were for the old dwarf, it was the first time that he had ever thought of the hybrid as scary. Some sort of feline to be sure--Mal was going to guess war tiger--just the presence he was giving off was enough to give the half-elf pause. He knew that Kessler might enjoy combat a bit too much, but Mal never sensed whatever the war tiger was putting off in that moment. He would have slowed his speech down somewhat, but would have kept talking--he didn't want to draw attention to the murderous looks Kessler was giving off. And just like that, he watched the youth smile, like he wasn't planning on gutting those adventurers that walked by. Mal made a mental note not to act too selfish around Kessler in the future. "Ugh, hurry...not a fan of that word." Mal started a light jog, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke to Kessler. He assumed the war tiger could easily keep up, as Mal wasn't the most fit individual. "Not an exact location...but it sounded like the old man was near the entrance of Level 3. We should be able to find him pretty quickly. Hopefully still alive. Y'know...because he probably owes me..." Running past where a goblin was downed by one of his arrows, he reached down and scooped up the near mint condition arrow, adding it back to his quiver. As he jogged, he started thinking how depressing it was going to be if the old man was already dead. And how much that would suck if all of those enemies that gathered on his position turned to Kessler and himself just in time to get stuck in another fight. Yay.
