SamAndrews/JunLo

The sweet sounds of a flute, played with a forlorn melody, wafted over the dock yards on that cold, sunny day. Sailors barked orders to each other as they unloaded their ships, and children ran though the streets, squealing and chattering like chipmunks. Today was a day of relaxation: one of the few Jun-Lo had experienced since Exalting.

Leaning against an old brick wall, ignoring the dust and old paint rubbing off on to his roabs, Jun continued his flute ballad; the rest of the world seemed to fade as he lost himself in the music. So immersed was he, he almost didn’t notice the nimble fingers of a would-be pickpocket lifting money from his wallet. Almost.

“That doesn’t belong to you, friend.” Jun-Lo said sternly, slapping the offender’s hand away.

“I just wanted a memento from such a brilliant flutist” the man reply, flashing an amiable grin. He was a dashing man, dressed in sea-farer’s garb. Slung at his waist was the scabbard for a large cutlass, worn with a grace and style that seemed almost second-nature to the man. His blond, windswept hair was tied back in a pony-tail, and his lightly browned skin defined his hardened muscles. If Jun-Lo were a woman, he’d be smitten. That not being the case, he was simply irritated.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much love for thieves. I think I shall teach you a lesson about what happens to criminals in Gethamane” said the once serene Jun-Lo, lowering himself into the stance of the Snake Style, essence flowing through his chakras.

“And I thought today was going to be boring” laughed the swashbuckler, reaching for his blade. But before either man could take action, a third voice exploded into the scene, sounding like an old dog, and smelling of whisky.

"It seems we’ve stumbled across a lover’s quarrel, boys!” said the grimy voice. It belonged to a large, one eyed man. He was filthy, and stank like last month’s milk. His grin wasn’t charming or alluring like the swashbuckler’s: it was foul and yellow, with more than half of its teeth missing or brown. The brigand swung a sword around his hand with surprising skill, and his three cronies, dressed in rags and fondling knives, guffawed menacingly.

“I’ll bet they have a good amount of shine between the two of them! Let’s get ‘em boys!” Shouted the filthy bandit, and they charged with raised blades. They were rushing head-long into their deaths.

With a speed that rivaled a lightning bolt, Jun-Lo pulled a long staff, broken into seven segments and connected by chains, from a scholar’s scroll-pouch at his waist. He swung it round, twisting like an uncoiling serpent, into the filthy, one-eyed braggart’s head. Several of his remaining teeth clattered onto the cobble as he reeled from the force of the impact.

Where Jun-Lo was lightning, the swashbuckler was an avalanche. He pulled from his scabbard not a cutlass, but a Daiklave, five feet long and golden like the noon-day sun. Within the space of a second, he cleaved a pair of the bandits into neat pieces with three arcing slashes.

The leader of the ruffians, still reeling from the blow to his head, shouted incoherently before crudely swinging his sword at Jun-Lo’s head. The scholarly martial-artist caught the blade neatly between two segments of his staff.

“Mistake” Jun-Lo said grimly. It was the last word the filthy man would ever hear. Before he could so much as lift his blade, Jun-Lo drove the other end of his seven-section staff into the man’s empty eye socket. He died instantly.

The remaining bandit, panicked and alone, swung one last, clumsy attack, aimed at the dashing swashbuckler. The bandit lost his hand for his impertinence, and his head for his foolishness.

“I’ll admit you’re not the weak, wretched scholar I had you pegged to be,” the charming man admitted grudgingly.

“And, I’d say you’re not all you seem either. Unless Orichalcum Daiklaves are back in style and I simply hadn’t heard” responded Jun-Lo sardonically. This brought a laugh out of the sea-farer,

“Anyone who can make a joke while surrounded by the corpses of four men is all-right by my books. Let me by you a drink” grinned the swashbuckler

“Fair enough” agreed Jun-Lo, smiling for the first time.

“I’m Beneficent Dawn” said the man, “Dawn to my friends.”

“I’m Jun-Lo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”