Weapon
Jezirea held her hands up, showing that she would co-operate with them.
Of course, she had nothing of value on her person, and the one thing that some of them wanted she would never give up to them. It just wouldn't do her any good to pull her dagger before any of them were within stiking distance.
She plastered a fear full look upon her face and forced a whimper. The men closing in her laughed in responce, delighted at the surrender of their prey.
It was easy to make people underestimate you when you were a woman.
The first to approach her was a large, heavy set man who was beginning to go bald. Jezirea continued to let him draw closer, until finally the man reached out and gripped her right wrist firmly in his meaty hand. He pulled her towards him forcefully, but before he could even draw her to his chest, Jezirea had unsheathed her dagger with her left hand and plunged it deeply in to the man's chest. His only responce was a loud grunt, before going limp.
This was what she had been hoping for. She had taken one down, and the others had no idea she'd even drawn her weapon yet.
She dropped the large man's weight, and before he could hit the ground she had slipped under his arm and slashed at the nearest man, slitting his throat; deep, red droplots of blood splattered out on to her skin as the man slid to the dusty dirt road.
By now the other men had caught on. They were all shouting, and scrambling to draw their weapons. The first man to show himself; the leader, was trying to give orders to the crew of frantic men.
This would be a good time to run.
Of course, she had nothing of value on her person, and the one thing that some of them wanted she would never give up to them. It just wouldn't do her any good to pull her dagger before any of them were within stiking distance.
She plastered a fear full look upon her face and forced a whimper. The men closing in her laughed in responce, delighted at the surrender of their prey.
It was easy to make people underestimate you when you were a woman.
The first to approach her was a large, heavy set man who was beginning to go bald. Jezirea continued to let him draw closer, until finally the man reached out and gripped her right wrist firmly in his meaty hand. He pulled her towards him forcefully, but before he could even draw her to his chest, Jezirea had unsheathed her dagger with her left hand and plunged it deeply in to the man's chest. His only responce was a loud grunt, before going limp.
This was what she had been hoping for. She had taken one down, and the others had no idea she'd even drawn her weapon yet.
She dropped the large man's weight, and before he could hit the ground she had slipped under his arm and slashed at the nearest man, slitting his throat; deep, red droplots of blood splattered out on to her skin as the man slid to the dusty dirt road.
By now the other men had caught on. They were all shouting, and scrambling to draw their weapons. The first man to show himself; the leader, was trying to give orders to the crew of frantic men.
This would be a good time to run.