The Daring Rico Swift (Warning:Violent Sword Fight Depicted)
-
The orcs knew they were going to win this chase. The girl was alone this time and running towards the river, blind with fear. She had no idea where they were or where she was going. She only ran straight on, and the three of them could easily keep up. They had her now.
They were hungry, and not just for want of food. They'd come upon this same girl yesterday, this poor farmer's daughter, out gathering wild herbs too far from her home and too close to theirs. From any city, this small countryside with it's farms few an far between had proven the perfect hunting ground for the nomadic trio. They'd prowled the edge of this land for months now, always going for the easy kill, taking whoever, whatever, however they wanted. Which is why this one had lived as long as she had. They'd surprised her in the wood, and surrounded her, when the hoof beats sounded. In an instant a horse and blond-haired rider had burst onto the scene, and he held his steel high as the horse reared up.
And so they fled, as was their way. Take no risks unless absolutely necessary, and any man with a sword, no matter his skill, is a risk. No doubt they could have overwhelmed him and the girl, but the possibility one of them might be injured or killed chilled their blood.
And now Grumsh smiled on them, for here was their second chance. The crossed over a hill, and there was steep drop. Good. The river lay just ahead. She had slowed down now, and they moved in, guessing she'd exhausted herself. This was going to be the easiest catch in a month.
She stumbled to ground at the base of of an ancient oak, with huge roots raised up out of the ground. Between the knots they wove she fell, and the three circled in behind her. She was trapped now. Finally Arker, Urook, and Oble had the chance to look at up close. The stepped in, side by side, with their weapons drawn. In Arker's hands, he held his favorite hatchet. Urook tossed a knife back and forth between his hands, and Oble had his sword, little better than slab of beaten and sharpened iron. More than enough to take care of this girl. As they stepped closer, they saw her with her head turn toward the ground, her face hidden by her black hair, and heard the pathetic sobbing noises she made. Something was weird though, but Urook couldn't figure out what. They saw she was wearing the same dress she had the day before. A drab yellow saffron garment that went to her to her ankles, or at least it had yesterday.
"This one has very thick ankles for a small girl. And hairy too."
The foot attached to that hair ankle now kicked Urook in the face. Spittle and teeth sailed through the air. At the same time, the girl reached into a pile of leaves and emerged with a sword in hand. The other arm reached under a raised root of the tree and came back holding a wooden shield, a mop of black hair was shirked aside, and a masculine voice rang out.
"Sorry, you're not my type!"
Arker and Oble could only stand in amazement. The blond horseman! He'd tricked them. It took them far too long to soak in the situation, for he was already up and upon them. A stranger sight there never was than this very handsome (not that the orcs noticed) man wearing a farm girl's dress and combating three orcish brigands. The first blow was his, but not with a blade. He barreled into Oble and knocked him to the ground with his shield. Then strangely, he retreated, and stood ready between them. Arker was kept back by the longer reach of the man's now bloody sword, and Oble, when he came to his feet, would find no easy opening with his shield blocking the way. The circled the man for a few seconds, but his guard never wavered. Then, he spoke.
"I swear by my pretty yellow dress, your days of raping, theft, and murder are at an end." At this, Arker, screamed and threw his axe towards the man. He never anticpated what happened next. The warrior sidestepped the throw, and the flat of the axe slapped Oble's shoulder. He found himself weaponless as the man slashed at his midsection. Arker fell, his hands grasping at his belly as the cold and pain claimed him. By now Urook had regained his senses, and he swing at the man, only to find his dagger stuck fast in the shield and the warrior's blade in his chest. The man kicked out with his leg to knock Urook off the sword.
Now only Oble was left. Oble was strong. This man had used trickery. He'd gotten lucky. Oble could succeed where the others had failed. Yes. Oble would kill him for certain.
Both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword, Oble screamed and charged, weapon held high above his head. He brought it down hard, but the man saw it coming, and had brought his shield to bear and taken a knee in order to brace himself. Wood splintered as Oble battered right through mans shield, and continued on to viciously impact and cut his arm. The man cried out in pain, and the would have been the end of it for the man had he thrust his blade low at the same moment. The man grasped his broken and bloodied arm in pain and held it close, his sword firmly lodged in Oble's gut. Oble himself stood a moment longer with a look of disbelief on his face. He dropped his slag of a sword and gripped the hilt of the warrior's. With a cry of anguish, it pulled it from his body, loosing a great deal of his own blood in the process. Oble found the strength to raise the blade, now covered in the blood of his kin and his own, and then no more. He slumped mid-step, dead before his head touched the ground.
"Argh, that was close," the blond-haired warrior said. Forcing a slow breath, he laid his palm upon the broken arm. A light radiated out from his hand, and he gritted his teeth against the discomfort of bone popping back in place and knighting together. The bleeding continued though; Oble had cut a major vein.
He raised his head to the sky. "Lady Sune, I ask for more grace than that. Besides, I looked good as a brunette." His hand shown with light again, and now the bleeding had stopped. If he didn't move it for a few days, it shouldn't reopen. He reached down and pried his sword from from Oble's hands and walked to the river bank to clean it and his wound. There he found waiting for him on the opposite bank the pretty farm girl, now wearing another dress, this one blue, and tied to the tree next to her his steed, looking very odd with its freshly shorn mane.
"Rico!" she called out. "You did it!"
He waded into the slow moving waters across the shallow river. It took some time and discomfort, especially in the dress.
"Did you bring my shirt and pants?" he asked, dripping in the now heavy skirt and blouse. She nodded, her face beaming with joy. She definitely looked better in blue. The girl handed her his clothes. He held them there for a moment, just looking at her. "Ahem. Mind turning around so I can get dressed?" She blushed crimson for a moment, then nodded again turned around. Rico slipped the wet dress and the loincloth he'd worn beneath it off. He was about to put one leg into his pants when he heard a giggle. Turning around, he found her watching him, and grinning like the cat that had stolen the canary. All he could do was return the smile.
"Ah, it's good to be me."
Several days later, Rico road out from the woman's home, shirtless, and with only his sword strapped to his belt. His arm has healed, thanks to help from two lovely ladies, but he's since gained a new injury: a black eye.
"How was I supposed to know she was married and her husband had gone to the city for supplies?" he said to no one in particular.
PC: Rico Swift
Account: iKitten
-
Reviewed XP pending
-
I knew I forgot something. Sorry.
-
Please edit in your character name and account login.
Thanks.
