Saronim opened his eyes, he’d been tossing and turning in his sleep and was now facing the rock wall.  He got up and walked toward it, looked to make sure that no one was around, and proceeded to undo his belt buckle and relieve himself.  Saronim stood and looked around at the room.  Even in the dim morning light that was just peering over the ridge of the open ceiling, the tomb looked to be a lot bigger than Saronim first noticed.  On that thought, he looked down, refastened his buckle, and started toward his satchel.  Saronim sat down in front of it, and started opening the worn and faded flap when his stomach started declaring it’s hunger.  His hands cupped over his belly and Saronim grimaced, he’d forgotten to eat dinner yesterday, or lunch for that matter.  
What he wouldn’t give for a steaming hot plate of peppered boar steak covered with toasted poppy seeds.  The mere thought of it made his mouth water, you could boast about being a member of a tribe known for it’s swordsmanship, but as far as cooking went, the Brajin had the other tribes beat.  Brajin were always known for their easygoing nature, otherworldly strength, and almost more than their cooking, their sheer size; your typical Brajin male would measure a little over seven feet tall, and boast a weight well over four-hundred pounds-most likely all muscle.  Although this would sound like a fearsome foe to meet in battle, Brajin’s were notoriously peace loving, and had never been known for fighting, or ever even using weapons for that matter.  Any meat they got on the table was brought down with  their bare hands or caught with a fishing rod.  Although you couldn’t usually find one easily, seeing as how they lived high up in the Brajin mountains to the north.
Saronim searched through his satchel and brought out two canteens,  the first of which was faded and worn; he’d gotten the canteen with the satchel when he’d bought it off a traveling merchant over ten years ago, it was filled to the brim at all times with whiskey-it was only used when he couldn’t sleep, the second was fairly new, it was made by him out of an elk pelt, and filled with peach juice.  Saronim continued looking through the satchel until he found a small object wrapped tightly with a stained piece of cloth, retrieved it, and unwrapped what was left of a piece of jerky.  He realized just how hungry he was when the first bight came through his lips, the meat was gone before he knew it, and peach juice was dribbling down his chin.  Satisfied, Saronim used his robe’s hood as a napkin and put everything away.
Saronim closed his satchel and froze. He reopened the flap and looked into the reflection in his knife’s blade.  An archer, clad in fur clothing, perched upon the ridge of the room, was pulling his bowstring back and taking aim.  Saronim’s eyes grew wide as he gulped hard, there’d only be one chance to counter this.  As if this thought provoked him, the archer released the bowstring and the arrow came screaming towards him, Saronim smoothly dropped to his right foot keeping his left knee on the ground, raised his left arm and grabbed the tip of the arrow with his right hand just as it came within inches of his rib cage, Saronim then spun on his right foot and threw the arrow back at the archer.  Saronim had only wait for the sound of blood splattering on the exposed rock of the floor to know that he’d hit his mark, the archer fell in a heap, still holding the arrow jutting out from his neck.
Saronim knew that there’d most likely be pursuers after his escape from the jail, but not this soon.  He ran for the satchel and picked it up without stopping.  Saronim cursed under his breath, had he known that there’d be bounty hunters after him already, he’d have kept going and camped further out.  He ran down the stairs and stopped at the last step.  The rain from the storm last night had pooled in the hallway of the tomb and covered the floor, but that wasn’t what made Saronim stop, it was the knight standing in the middle of it all.  The knight was covered head to toe in rose red armor and was holding a spatha.  A bead of sweat rolled down Saronim’s cheek and dripped off his chin into the water, forming a ripple.  
“I got here before him you know…” The knight’s voice was altered by the helmet, it also kept Saronim from being able to see his face.
“Before who?” Saronim gave a nervous smile.
“Don’t play dumb, I’m talking about the archer.”
“Oh, yeah, him……….uh….what’s your point?” Saronim looked back at the body that lay on the floor.
“I could’ve killed you….right then and there….while you slept , and it wouldn’t have bothered me in the least, and I would‘ve been paid all the same…” Saronim noticed a slight quiver in the knight’s voice, not to mention his hand.
“So why didn’t you?” Saronim’s eyes narrowed and he began to reach for his sword.
“Because….it wouldn’t have been sportsman like.” The knight spread his feet and held his spatha up, ready for an attack.
“You know…..we don’t have to fight…” Saronim reached into his satchel and brought out his knife.
“Actually, we do…I’ve been paid to kill you……what ever the cost…” The knight’s voice regained it’s confidence.
“So you’re not just a bounty hunter?” Saronim stepped off the step and into the water.
“Nope, an assassin…but I think we’ve talked enough……Ready yourself!!!”
With no further warning the knight thrust himself through the water with sword extended towards Saronim, he blocked it easily enough with his knife but was taken back by how much force the knight was able to put into the little sword.  The next series of attacks came in a lightning-fast blur, each thrust and swing was expertly timed, executed, dodged, and blocked.  The knight came at Saronim with his spatha in mid-swing, Saronim held his knife up to parry, but the knight brought the short sword down behind him and rammed Saronim in the chest with his shoulder.  Saronim, the wind knocked out of him, staggered backwards.  The knight lowered his weapon and stood, watching Saronim.
“I must commend you…..”
Saronim, just glared at the knight.
“…though you obviously lack any training with the sword what-so-ever you’ve managed to stay alive this long against me in close combat……tell me……just who are you?”
“Didn’t your employer tell you?” Saronim’s chest was heaving as he stood erect.
“I never actually speak with my employers…I’m given a letter…the one that told me of you said you’d be here…and, here you are……although……the price for this mark is a lot higher than I’d expect…….the note said you’d be dangerous….I’m actually very disappointed…” The knight shook his head and looked down.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” Saronim gave a confident smile. “We’re just getting started here!”
Saronim took off his robe and satchel, placing them on the stairs, revealing his scarred torso, the only thing he kept on were his sack cloth pants and leather boots and shoulder guard.  
Saronim gave a playful chuckle, “Damn robe keeps me from fighting comfortably…”
“You aren’t even going to wear armor when dueling me?” The knight’s free hand went to his hip.
“What?” Saronim raised his hands.
“I just feel sorry for killing someone this damned crazy…”
“You can call it crazy if you want, just try not to bleed on me.” Saronim gave a wink.
“Before either one of us dies……My name is Teroco….now tell me….what do they call a warrior such as yourself?” The knight shifted into a new stance, side facing Saronim and sword on the reverse.
“…I might tell you…after I win…” Saronim gave a sly smile.
Saronim gave a grunt as he launched himself forward and clashed blades with the knight, the force of impact was enough to make both of them slide deeper into the water, making it go up to Teroco’s knees, Saronim’s feet were planted firmly upon his chest plate.  Saronim then pushed against Teroco, sending Saronim up and away, and did a backflip.  He then landed fifteen feet away in a crouch, right hand raising his sword level with his head, tip pointed directly at Teroco’s heart.  
“Fine.”  Teroco gathered his bearings and stepped forward again.
“If that’s how this is going to go…” Teroco reached up on his shoulders and undid a buckle, suddenly his  shoulder guards dropped to the floor with a splash.  He then rotated his arms to show that he now had a full range of motion at the shoulders.  
Teroco then got back into stance, “Alright, begin…”
This time Saronim and Teroco both lunged at the same time and collided in the air, sparks flew as Saronim’s sword scrapped across armor, Teroco’s sword grazed Saronim’s chest and cut off his shoulder guard.  Both slid to a stop upon landing, Saronim then turned and ran in an arc toward Teroco.  The sound of steel upon steel rang out as both combatants swung their blades, Teroco was knocked back, but lifted his foot and kicked Saronim in the shoulder, who staggered back from the blow. Teroco, then gave a roundhouse kick to Saronim’s chest, causing him to fall onto the stairs and hit his head.  Saronim gave a groan and didn’t move, Teroco walked over and stood over him.
“Alright……looks like I won……it‘s a shame though, I really did want to know the name of such a warrior” Teroco raised his sword, ready to behead Saronim, “…ah well, guess that’s life…”
“Don’t count on it!” Saronim’s eyes flashed in confidence as he slid and twisted underneath Teroco, cut off the straps holding his chest plate to him, and knocked his helmet off, the pieces of steel both fell and struck the stone steps with a loud clang.  Saronim then did a backflip and landed in a stance that had his knife held up in front of him; but Saronim was caught off guard by something, namely the two large bulges in Teroco’s chain mail and the long brown hair that ended at the middle of her back.
Saronim’s jaw went slack, “W-what are…..those?” his eyes grew wide.
“My goddess…..you’re a woman?”
Teroco’s cheeks flashed red, “S-shut up! It doesn’t make any difference! We’re still in the middle of a fight!”
Saronim stood erect and returned his sword to its sheath, “Not any more we’re not…”
“Why not!?” Teroco stamped her foot, making a splash.
Saronim walked past her and put his robe back on.
“Because…I refuse to…” He gave Teroco a sideways glance that told her he was done
“That’s not how it works!! I’m here to kill you! You don‘t just say that we‘re done!!” Teroco’s voice was quivering.
“Give it up…I knew from the start that you weren’t an assassin…”
Teroco’s face portrayed how surprised she was. Saronim continued to talk as he walked toward where he was resting before.
“What makes me think that? I’ll tell you, first off, assassin’s never act ‘sportsmanlike’,” Saronim made quotation marks in the air, “second,  a REAL assassin wouldn’t ever be caught dead in heavy armor…they can’t move freely…and third of all, no assassin would go into a mission without even knowing what the name of who their supposed to kill is.” Saronim sat down and leaned against a wall.
“Now why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?” Saronim gave a smile.  Teroco sighed and walked toward him, both of them knew she didn't really want to kill him.