I took the next road slowly, and carefully, since I know what lurks just out of sight of gates and guards. As I expected, they didn't really have many scouts out, or any that I saw (Which I guess is the point!), due to the high number of scavengers and bandits out. It's too risky, with things so chaotic around here. Sure enough, I spotted the next town a couple hours into my ride, and immediately dismounted from Tempest III, a stout warhorse with a knack for kicking creatures to death that get too close, and a -serious- hunger for apples. He'd become cranky over the past few days as the apples grew scarce.
Walking him sedately along, I had just enough time to wonder if my armor, silvery and accented with crimson, was going to attract that same kind of attention as before, and make me look lootable, rather than dangerous ... when an arrow went zinging off of my pauldron. That was all the prompting I needed to don my helm, and I gave Tempest a slap to send him to safety. He paused long enough to give me a sour look, like I was stealing all of his fun, and then he trotted off, seeming in no hurry. How did I end up with a bloody horse like that?
At any rate, the arrows kept coming, but not as many as they should have used, since I basically just kept my eyes open, and skipped between them, having a little time because they were firing from extreme range. This was what I practiced, after all. Survival isn't JUST about being able to survive wounds, but avoid them. Even since I got good at that, I've seldom ended up poor from buying piles of necessary potions. Speaking of potions ... an invisibility one might just be the trick I needed, so I kept it in hand, skipping as deftly as one can in plate between falling arrows, ignoring the ones that went pinging off of the platinum and steel, and making my way for a clump of trees. I even tried to speed up a little to look like I was fleeing the fight itself. Probably not convincing, but it would get me to the trees. Could the little wooded area ALSO have bandits? Of course. But it would serve, for now. I wanted them to close in, after all.
I heard no chanting, and was hit with no spells, so this really may have been simple rabble. Perhaps not a -real- force or threat, unless they were trying to bait me, so I went with the cautious plan. I ducked behind some trees, got low, and drank the potion. I watched some arrows fall where I WAS as I slowly walked in the direction of the firing, and once I was close enough, I charged, knowing they would hear me ... but also knowing that it was be too late for them to DO anything about it by then, too.
I purposely dragged my sword through a bush far to my side just as I burst into their area, and they shot the poor bush several times at the crashing and shaking it did in response, just before I crashed into the first bandit with my entire body (Thanks for helping me slow down!), and hit the one who raised his bow at me with the flat of my sword hard enough to knock him down as I set my feet and prepared for the rest of the fighters to come out.
Several had already started moving around to my previous location, and they came running at the ROAR I let out with my charge, and two more that were close by already simply RAN, while the braver of their lot turned to face me. You would think a giant, previously invisible, roaring armored man would prove to be problematic, and maybe worth running from, but I saw the looks on their faces as they closed in, circling. They didn't care. Fanaticism? Bloodlust? Wrong mushroom snack in the woods? Who the hell knows, they simply didn't look RIGHT, and seemingly at random, they charged!
I hit the first figure square on, a testing strike to see if they were armored under those cloaks, and heard a surprised grunt as he slid wetly to the pine needles littering the forest floor where we fought. I had just enough time to be surprised at the lack of armor, OR defensive motion from him, when three more closed in. They struck ALMOST in tandem, two longswords between two men, and a pair of shortswords with the other, so I blocked what I could, and focused on the fellow with the short-swords, JUST in case he had the same kind of knowledge as Vick and Ras, for where to stick them.
He blocked my first strike, and ducked the second, and then I was done dodging. I set my feet, and swept the blade toward the ground to the side of him, then up, not even waiting to see if it hit before turning to the one behind me. I didn't NEED to see. I knew it was going to hit. The rhythm was set, the flow of the battle had started, and these men were not demons, or quaggoths, or hooked horrors, or drow. These were but men, and not trained like the Creel or the Crimson Spikes.
I knew. The blade arcing over my head to strike down at the opposite angle of where I had swung upward, trailed red and pink in the air, sizzling slightly as it crashed down on the second bandit, who to his credit, DID try to block. Poorly. I shifted my weight even before he hit the ground, and kept the momentum going, however, and the third fellow had already missed his strike, not expecting me to have turned so suddenly. The surprise on his face was clear, and familiar as I watched the reddish glow of my sword streak toward him, and he started to snarl a curse as it was clear he wasn't going to be able to block in time. The curse cut off with a gurgle, and I kicked him off the sword where it had made it most of the way through his side, his swordarm on the ground beside him, preparing myself to take on the ones who must have closed in by now.
A wobbling arrow clattered through the trees to land harmlessly near my feet, and I heard another thud into a tree nearby, but those were clearly retreating shots. Apparently, the others had looked before they leaped, and left their companions to me. Smart, but cowardly. Cowardly like the one I crashed into, who seemed to be coming to, but pretending to be dead near my feet. Or maybe he -was- dying. I DID hit him pretty hard... I leaned down to roll him over, and get a good look at his face, only to feel a knife slide up behind my knee and give me a stab. It was barely a scratch, but annoying, and made me hope that the stupid thing wasn't poisoned.
I growled at him to drop it, and he did, with a squeak. I then told him to STAY, like a dog, and surprisingly enough, he did, while I turned over the corpses around me, and checked their pockets and the like, shaking my head as I found nearly nothing of value. Some coins, too many knives, and various other obviously looted items. It would be WAY too easy if they'd had orders or information on them, anyway. But this one ...
I waved as I came near the town, my prize struggling feebly over the back of Tempest, as if he could get free of the crushing ropes that held him bound, and moments later I was giving Thad's name, providing my destination, and asking if they had reason to want any of these bandits for questioning or the like. The "like" was most likely a rope from the terse answer I got about the bandit, but perhaps they'd get a few words out of him first. Either way, I was given a direction, a meal for a fair price, and a well wish on my way to the west, closer to my destination now, close enough that there would be no point to staying the night. There was still afternoon left, after all.
One early evening, as the sun is just dipping below the treetops, a man on horseback stops him on the road. He has messy chestnut hair and calm, measuring brown eyes, dressed in unassuming earthen-toned leathers - though his horse is fine and strong, obviously bred and trained for battle. "You must be Cecil", states the man factually, obviously having studied him quite closely from afar or perhaps unnoticed from within the forest. "Well come along then. She's waiting." With that, the man gestures and sets his horse to a slow trot. Along the way, he even remembers to introduce himself, momentarily sheepish. "Oh. I'm Gralam. You know, the nice brother." Finally, with that quick grin, the resemblance to his twin Ashena is more apparant and while not overly chatty, he proves quite companionable and open as they travel together for the last mile.
Well, meeting Gralam was a surprise, though a welcome one. I expected to arrive, looking like a lost deserter or something, unannounced and barely anticipated, with how unreliable sending a letter may have been, but here I am. I'm close, now, and Gralam and I are stopping so I can clean the blood off of my armor and water my horse before we go in. I wonder how much he knows of me.
