Private Tales Bandits and Witches

[Talus]

A Hundred Leagues South of Elbion

Talus shouldered the pack on his shoulder with a small frown, glancing around at the tiny village he had stepped into.

It was some sort of market day currently, though in a town like this that meant three or four stalls all filled with pretty much the same things. It was unexciting, boring, and quite honestly a nice change of pace. Every mission he'd had until now was one filled with blood and battle. A nice quiet village was different, and that was to be enjoyed.

The young Apprentice slowly walked through the tiny market, his eyes settling on an Inn at the very end of the main road. Half a dozen or so men stood outside of it, a sword or weapon of some sort on each of their hips.

"Pay? Haha, whose gonna make us do that, lady?"​

One of the six men was jeering at a woman standing in the doorway of the Inn. His hand was up, curled into a rude gesture as he taunted her with a big grin on his face.

Talus watched him with a frown, sliding past a woman holding some washing and stopping himself at the small half fallen down wooden fence that separated the yard of the Inn from the main road. His expression was blank as he watched the man, his voice sounding out as he hurled half a dozen insults at the woman and the continued to speak.

"Your food tastes like shit! Your beds suck, and you're lucky we didn't burn this whole place down!"​

 

[Daisya]

From inside the inn, Daisya lingered awkwardly. She had slept late, gone without breakfast, and now the doorway was being blocked by a band of ruffians. Confrontation wasn’t her specialty—or really, any sort of social interaction. Even less hostile, more positive company was hard for her to be comfortable in.

By now a crowd had gathered, and Daisya feared that she’d be on the wrong side of the fight no matter what. The thugs seemed determined to cause trouble regardless, harassing the kindly woman who ran the town’s inn. These were the most dangerous kind of men, she figured. The type who weren’t after any money or belongings, just violence.

Inching her way to the threshold, the young mage could feel her heart thud rapidly in her chest, a sign that this was not something she should be doing. With her blood pounding away in her ears, she shuffled to the door, just beside the innkeeper.

“Please leave her alone.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, muttering a soft plea.

One of the men stopped jeering for a moment and scrutinized the darkly clad girl, making Daisya flinch where she stood and lower her head. She knew that she would come to regret this. “The hell you say, squirt?” He stepped forward, hands on his hips and lips curling into the cruelest of smiles.

Daisya swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I-I said, please leave her alone!” She repeated louder, voice just a notch more desperate.

If the thug responded, his words didn’t reach her ears. The sound of uproarious laughter had filled her senses, drowning out anything that wasn’t pure humiliation and an impending sense of danger. Suddenly she was being lifted from the ground by the neck of her robes, the sneering face of a thug the last thing she saw before being effortlessly tossed aside.

 

[Talus]

By any definition one could create Talus was not a hero.

The very concept of such a thing would have been laughable back at the Academy. Dreadlords were not defenders of the innocent. They were not protectors, and they most certainly did not get involved in fights they did not need to. They were weapons of war, trained to kill and only kill.

Yet as the man and his thugs hurled abuses as the innkeeper Talus couldn't help but feel a pit growing in his stomach. His features soured, and a hand came to rest on his sword.

He was about to step up, move past the little fence when a girl around his age stepped out of the inn. She was tiny, her voice mousey as she pushed back against the thugs and attempted to raise her ire. Talus watched her, blinking as the bandits jeered her and then one stepped forward. His hands wrapped around her, lifting and tossing her to the side.

Talus shook his head, and then finally moved.

The thug that had thrown Daisya went crumpling to the ground as the Dreadlord Apprentice kicked the back of his knee. Without the support of his leg the man went tumbling down, landing face first in the muck and splashing the innkeeper with small bits of mud.

Gasps pulled from the teeth of several men as the man turned, his fingers balling into fists of rage as he looked up at Talus.

"YOU LITTLE GIT! I'LL GUT YOU FOR THAT!"

The sounds of swords being drawn echoed around them.

 

[Daisya]

Daisya’s slight figure sailed through the air, coming to rest in an unceremonious crash in the mud. The young mage lay there dazed for a few moments before lifting her face from the muck, wiping the debris and dirt from her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. One plus to owning a darker wardrobe meant that stains typically gave you less trouble, at least.

“I’LL GUT YOU FOR THAT!”

Shaking off a dazed expression, Daisya grimaced and scampered to her feet almost immediately. She had no idea what she had actually done besides get swatted out of the way like a fly—but when she managed to refocus on the thugs, a newcomer stood out. The thug who had tossed her aside was on the ground, sneering in pain up at a blonde youth. Daiysa could only gawk. Had he been there the whole time?

The sound of metal scraping against scabbards caused her to tense, and all of Daisya’s instincts told her to run. The thugs had forgotten about her by now, and she could make a clean getaway without much trouble. However, this sort of thing wore on her conscious, along with her unpaid tab at the inn.

Clasping her hands together, the mage began to mutter to herself, focusing on the earth around her. Though not exactly experience in battle, she couldn’t let the young man fight alone after he’d gone through the trouble to step up for her and the innkeeper. The puddle of mud beneath her feet began to bubble, slowly at first before coming to a roiling boil with enchantment. Bending at the knees, Daisya sharply extended a hand in the direction of the ruffians, sending a stream of muddy water towards their feet like a shot.

The burst of mud hit one of the thugs at his ankles, sending him toppling with sudden force. “Son of a—” He snarled in both anger and confusion, scrambling to his feet and looking wildly for the source of the disruption. His eyes landed on Daisya, and his anger quickly turned to rage.

“YOU BITCH! I’LL RIP YOUR HEAD FROM YOUR SHOULDERS!”

Daisya squeaked as he charged, narrowly dodging the wide arc of his sword as he took a swing at her. At least there was plenty of mud to go around.

 

[Talus]

Talus drew his blade in the blink of an eye, the ringing of metal leaving it's scabbard sound out for only a brief moment as one of the thugs stepped forward and swung his axe.

His sword danced forward, moving beneath the mans ax and cutting into the leather jerkin that protected his body. A spray of blood dashed over the side of the inn, the man falling to the side of Talus as he took a step forward and half turned.

A cudgel swept besides him as he shifted his stance.

The thugs came quickly now, moving in a swarm and trying to strike him as best as they could. He felt one of their weapons bounce off of the back of his armor, a sharp edge scraping against the heavy plate and sending goosebumps shooting up his spine.

His head jerked to the side as he heard a mousey squeak from the girl that had been thrown.

A blade swept over her head, and Talus let out a curse.

His off-hand shot to his belt, grabbing the small dagger he had there and flicking it towards the man looming over Daisya. The blade sunk between the man's shoulder blades, sending him reeling and falling forward towards the witch.

At the same time the thug Talus had kicked into the muck dragged himself forward, jumping and tackling Talus to the ground.