In his small apartment, but rather comfortable living quarters, he found himself having a horrible nightmare or was it a flashback?.. Gripping the cool sheets on his six foot bed, Timmothy began to sweat uncontrollably and unable to un-clinch his eyes. He shook his head rapidly from left to right with violent visions in his mind. Within this dream world he sat at a table within an inn. The inn was dark, the only light was small candles on the walls of the interior and a few scattered around on the numerous tables. The place looked shady and was not very well kept together. In front of him sat only a glass of hot tea and an empty chair across from him. This place felt familiar to him, as if he had been here before; which led him to believe that he had been here before.
There was a few people bustling about in the inn, drinking or what not. The inn-keeper did his best to keep everyone satisfied and luckily for him there was not that many patrons. Tim took a sip from his hot tea and allowed it to quench his thirst. At that moment a group of men came busting into the inn. He turned and looked at them over his shoulder; a rough looking group. He turned his head back to mind his own business. The inn-keeper greeted them kindly and informed them that they could sit where ever they pleased. However, the group had other intentions.
The three men pushed the inn-keeper to the side and he nearly fell to the ground; very rude because he was only trying to make a living in this troubling world. The group eyed the inn and for some reason picked out Tim as their target. They approached rather abruptly and stood at the end of his table. One sat down in the empty chair, apparently the leader, as the other two stood on his left and right. What Tim assumed to be their leader spoke first as he raised his eyes from his glass of hot tea. "You there! You seem to be of wealth, how about you part ways with your coin pouch and allow us to sleep here tonight, free of charge of course." His intentions were obvious; to rob Timmothy.
He was unsure as to why they picked him out of the rest of the patrons. After all he was shabby at best, although he was bathed, had a clean set of clothing on and his hair was well kept; he did however, not have very much coin. Tim looked at the group and smiled, he was not looking for a fight. "I would suggest that you take a much kinder route, for if you go about your life such as this you are likely to run into the wrong person to trifle with..." Before Tim could even finish his sentence, the leader of the group reached over the table and shoved his glass into Tim's lap; a very poor decision.
From underneath the table Tim had already clenched his sword. When the glass fell into his lap, he stood up quickly and withdrew his blade before he turned his kind nature into a very strong and stern voice. "You insult the inn-keeper here who is only trying to make a living, then you go about and try to rob people. You have no honor, no reason to live; your life is meaningless! I have tried to warn you that you must be careful of how you speak to people as you have no idea who they are or what they are capable of." Tim was not renown or glorified in anyway, he had however, trained all his life and was searching for a purpose to use his skills. It seemed that he had a knack for luring in trouble-makers. The leader rose quickly from his seated position and as he did his two companions withdrew their blades, rather rusty ones at that. Tim took this as a sign that the group was not willing to take his words to heart or listen to the point he was trying to make. Seemed as though he would have to teach them the hard way.
With his right leg, Tim kicked the brim of the table full-force and flung it towards the group. Forcing the man on the left to the ground as the other two did their best to prevent any damage from the object. Then the man on the right charged, with blade in hand, towards Tim and attacked from a downward angle; a very simple attack and easily countered. He swiftly clanked his blade against the man's blade and then followed it with a counter-attack. Which ultimately struck the man across the chest from an under striking upward attack. The man bounced back astonished from Tim's great speed. The leader of the group barked out orders and as he did all three rushed him at once; this would be over quickly.
He took a step back and raised his blade among high, waiting for the three to come in close. As the man on the left, who originally had fallen to the ground from the table, attempted to attack his flank. With a quick kick his attack was foiled. However, the other two seemed a bit smarter; the man on the right and the leader coordinated their attacks. Also the leader seemed to have some familiarity with the sword. They unleashed a fury of combos towards Tim and he was forced on the defensive. He did his best to block each assault, but eventually the leader got through and cut him only slightly across the arm. He felt quite foolish to let these...Bandits...even scratch him, even so to be bothered by them for so long.
The man on the right took a heavy sigh as he was obviously getting tired with their relentless assault, but the leader did not seem so worn out. Tim had barely began to break a sweet, but then something happened that he could not explain or understand. A loud crackling filled his ears and his eyes lost sight. Followed by his hands gripping his blade tight, as if someone had taken over his body. The room began to heat up and it felt as if he was on fire. When he came to the two attackers were laying on the floor next to the third. He had no knowledge of what happened and the patrons in the inn all stared disbelievingly towards him; all with their jaws hanging low and only the inn-keeper approached him.
He spoke with a shaky voice, but thankful. "Sir, you are marvelous. You can come here to drink, eat and sleep for free at any time." Tim was unsure as to what happened, but had enough understanding that he had forced the bandits out and that the inn-keeper was ever grateful. Then his body shot through with intense pain and was brought back to reality. Shaking in his bed he opened his eyes with a cold sweat. His pillow was surely soaked by now and his body ached.
Sitting up from his laying position on his bed, he turned to plant his feet on the ground. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Tim was unaware of what that dream was all about, but it seemed familiar...to familiar. One would think that they would remember such a thing, but he had no knowledge of that event; none what-so-ever. He blinked his eyes a few times and stood form his bed. Walking rather sluggishly towards his small sink in his apartment, he turned the faucet on and rinsed his hands under the water. He cupped his hands and then splashed his face a few times. The cool water refreshed him and broke the intense heat that had overcome his body.
It was just one of those nights...