After Jasmine was done laughing Chase thought to himself. 'Damian is getting a bit more serious. I always thought of him as a more go with the flow type. Hes even speaking in code. It wasn't that good but still.'
POV:Damian
As he walk around, he know it was gonna be a hard time to find donny. Of course it was, the dude was as assasin. But, it seemed he was off his game today. Clanking sounds could be heard in the nearby forest. As he walked he was greated by a wonderful sight.
A barktown guard was surrounded by a bunch of his fallen teammates, all unconscious. Looking around, he was terrified, as he was walking near a tree, he stepped in the middle of a rope and was dragged upwards, screaming.
His unconscious body hit the floor the next second
As well as another person, that being donny himself. Encased by a cloak, he looked forward his gaze intense, focused. "Now show me a real fight." He said, picking up one of the many swords nearby.
Walking from another part of the forest, a woman began clapping her hands. "Well done. Since you were so flawless, ill grant your request." That woman was shiva herself. With blinding speed, she drew her blade, already halfway across the area.
The sword strike came faster than thought—Shiva's blade a silver blur slicing toward Donnie's throat. He pivoted, barely deflecting with a stolen guard's sword that *screamed* as steel kissed steel. The impact sent vibrations up Donnie's arms, his boots carving furrows in the dirt as he skidded back.
'Damn it she fast!'
Steel shrieked as Shiva's follow-up strike carved downward, forcing Donnie into a desperate parry that shattered the stolen sword at the hilt. He rolled right—barely avoiding the blade's edge—and came up holding a splintered dagger from his boot.
The splintered dagger gleamed in the filtered sunlight as Donnie pivoted—not attacking, but *surviving*. Shiva's blade carved air where his ribs had been a heartbeat prior. He felt the wind of its passage against his sweat-slicked skin.
Donnie kept getting pushed further back until he opted to pull out a smoke bomb, crushing it in his hand, blinding them both.
The smoke bomb's acrid cloud swallowed the clearing whole. Shiva's blade sliced through the gray haze with surgical precision—once, twice—each swing missing Donny by millimeters as he melted backward into the obscurity. His breath hitched as her boot scuffed dirt inches from his ribs.
A strike came from the smoke and hit her shoulder.
It made no sound. This was where Donny had his maximum advantage. Already using [silence] he made sure none of his moved made any noise.
The silence stretched between them like a garrote wire—Shiva frozen mid-lunge, her blade trembling an inch from Donnie's throat. Blood welled along the shallow cut his dagger had left across her collarbone. Then, impossibly, she laughed—a sound like shattering glass.
Shiva's laughter died as abruptly as it had begun. Her blade flicked upward—not attacking, but *acknowledging*—the tip tracing a line of blood from Donnie's chin to his brow without breaking skin. "You've been holding back," she murmured. The smoke curled around her words like a living thing.
The smoke dissipated just in time for Damian to witness Shiva's blade halt a hair's breadth from Donnie's jugular. Blood dripped from both their weapons—hers pristine steel, his jagged dagger—onto the trampled earth between them.
The dagger trembled in Donnie's grip—not from fear, but from the aftershocks of Shiva's last parry. Blood dripped from his split knuckles onto the dirt. "Holding back?" He spat a mouthful of copper onto the ground. "You're one to talk." His eyes flicked to the barely-there scratch on her collarbone. "That's the first hit I've landed. If you wanted to, I would hardly be able to see you."
The sword tip trembled—Shiva's arm locked mid-thrust, her knuckles white around the hilt. Donnie didn't blink. Blood trickled from his nose where the flat of her blade had clipped him three moves prior.
Shiva's blade lowered with deliberate slowness, the steel whispering against leather as she sheathed it. "Good," she said, wiping Donnie's blood from her chin with a thumb. "You lasted longer than most. We can catch up and resume training later, I have to prepare for guests."
"See you then miss shiva." After she nodded, she began walking away. Not long after, damian showed up. Before he could ask, Donny answered.
"Im falling behind. I cant keep up with you guys, so im trying to somewhat narrow the strengh gap with experience. I refuse be become dead weight."
Damian had a rebuttal. "What if you just…I dont know ask Chase to Turn you as well?"
Donnie's fingers twitched around the jagged dagger still dripping with Shiva's blood. The question hung between them like a guillotine blade.
"Its quite simple actually. Ever since you guys turned, both you and andrew have had to wear something to protect your faces. Chase can barely control his looks. We could somehow learn to do it half as good as him, but one mistake, maybe your got some weird scales on youre face, teeth too sharp, not to mention slitted eyes, and now inquisition is kicking down doors and killing everyone we've had contact with for being demon sympathizers."
The rope trap creaked as Damian nudged the unconscious guard with his boot. "So what's your play then?" he asked, watching Donny wipe Shiva's blood from his dagger. "Because right now, you're the only one of us who *can* walk into a church without getting holy water thrown at his face."
The rope trap swayed gently as Donnie sheathed his dagger with a click. "My play?" He smirked, wiping sweat from his brow with a torn sleeve. "Simple. I'll be the knife in the dark while you three play at being civilized monsters." He kicked a pebble toward the unconscious guard. "Starting with handling these 'scouts' before they sniff out your new aftershave—*demon*."
"And you are the only reason we're getting quests. Im not fully putting my fail into chases control just yet. Well find a way for you to grow more powerful, im sure of it."