Sjavar
The masqueraded man patrolled the village. Luckily, today was a good day. No one to punish... Yet.
All of a sudden, as if on cue, his ears (that he trained and honed for listening to disturbances) heard a ruckus going on nearby. He went to inspect.
There, he found a gang beating on one man. The gang was obviously drunk out of their minds. However, the man getting beat up was recognized. He was a local brewer. The characters in this scene already tells the masqueraded man of the situation.
"Aye, we got enough yet, ah? Have we had enough now, Jimmy?!"
The brewer trembled. "I'm sorry, but if you drink anymore, it would be dangerous, plus you have a record for getting into trouble frequently, I couldn't-"
The leader kicked the brewer in the gut, making him fall to his knees with an audible 'oof.'
"Now you shut tha hell up! I say I want me some rum, I'm gonna get me some bloody freakin' rum!"
"That is enough out of you all," the masquerade said. He stepped forth.
"... And who tha hell're you, ya bloody bilge rat?"
"Someone you should fear. I know you. I recognized your choice of words. You were once a thief in a pack."
The leader turned to the masquerade.
"... And wut'zit to ya, huh?"
"Nothing much if that were all to it. However, you causing violence on this man for something so trivial deserves nothing more than punishment.
Just then, a thug tried to sneak behind him and knock him out with the back of a knife. However, the masquerade foresaw this and grabbed his hand.
"... I'm impressed. I never noticed him sneaking past me. But you're going to have to train your lackeys better than that to be a challenge."
"Hey, who're ya callin' lacke-"
Suddenly, the masquerade twisted himself and the lackey's arm, sending him in the air. Then, the masquerade took out his rapier. It was purple with a black blade. He rushed past the suspended lackey with a swing of the sword. When the lackey got down, he couldn't get back up. He was out cold, not only from the impact, but from the shock of getting hit by the rapier. He moaned in pain.
"Oh, now ya done it, ya bastard. Get 'im, boys!" Cried the leader. The group ran at the masquerade.
"... Very well. I will gladly take you on."