The sharp prickling sensation on the back of my neck flares painfully. My body dodges to the right on instinct and slams my shoulder into Thorpe's dresser—a flash of steel to my left parts the air, skewering where my neck was just positioned. But the blade is visible for only a brief second before vanishing. Leaving me alone in the room again.
My blood runs cold. The nervous twitch returns to my features as I grit my teeth. Scanning the room frantically for even the slightest movement while my right hand moves to the grip of my sword.
[Threat Detection] flares across my chest, causing me to duck before a blade slashes above me. Carving a deep gash through the wood and taking a few tufts of my hair with it.
My sword leaves its sheath quickly enough to swing an overhead at the seemingly empty space in front of me. Immediately meeting resistance with a resounding CLANG, scattering a few sparks into the air. The assailant's sudden backward movement reveals his shape. Bleeding in and out of the shadows like ink and sending another wave of nausea through my gut. A gleam in his eyes that appears more curious than threatened.
He's just like the ones who ambushed us in the Dominion wood.
I can make out the unmistakable shape of a leather jerkin around his midsection. Armored very lightly. Cloaked with a hood and a scarf over the lower half of his face. A straight sword in his left hand and a dagger in his right that is serrated with hooked grooves.
Just by the air he gives off, I can tell he's dangerous. My instincts are screaming at me to run. But his figure is already fading again. And I can't take any chances even with the enclosed space we are in.
So I charge at him with [Leap Stride], catching him off guard with my sudden speed. Arcing a swift uppercut into his midsection which he unsurprisingly blocks, creating another loud CLANG as our blades clash. But the force of my swing mid-leap swipes his arms up and out of the way. Enough of an opening for my shoulder to connect with his abdomen and slam him into the back wall. The wooden planks snapping and caving in behind him.
The man fully materializes and doubles over with a groan. My grip on my sword tightens as I bring it back down in a diagonal, aiming for his shoulder, but his right hand recovers quickly enough to defend. And even worse, the hooked notches in his dagger catch my blade and halt my swing entirely. Leaving me wide open for a slash from his left sword arm. Narrowly saving myself from being gutted by leaping backwards and yanking my sword from the cruel dagger.
My leap sends me flying back through the open doorway into the den. Creating some decent distance that is quickly made negligible when the assailant bounds after me even faster.
His weapons flow into a skilled rhythm I can barely keep up with. Only managing to parry at least three or four of his strikes before his dagger traps my sword again in a rough counter. But he doesn't allow me to leap back this time. His sword instead sweeps low and cuts easily through the thighs of my padded trousers. Slicing cleanly into flesh, deeply enough for the tip to scratch bone. And fast enough to not even feel the pain right away.
With a powerful tug, he wrenches my sword from my grip and tosses me behind him. As I falter, his body twirls to deliver a hard kick into my side. Sending me flying across the room and slamming into the wall before I hit the ground.
Blood wells up in my throat, spilling from my lips to splatter against my gambeson. Each breath now painfully stutters with every inhale. One of my lungs is most definitely collapsed.
A metallic rattling sound draws my attention from the floor to see the assailant casually juggling my hefty sword with just the hooked gaps in his dagger. Giving it a few turns in the air before catching and hurling it up into the ceiling. Burying my blade right up to the hilt in the wooden beam overhead.
I wrinkle my nose at the man who is clearly playing around now. No longer taking me seriously. I try to lift myself, but the gashes in my thighs finally decide to act up as sharp pain shoots through my legs, dropping me right back down. An unfortunate whimper escaping through my gritted teeth.
"Interesting child…" The man comments, observing me from across the room. His accent is plain and unassuming but carried by a deep poetic tone. Almost sounding like a preacher.
My brows press inward in response. A barely contained growl hissing past my teeth. "Who the hell—" But my retort is cut short when he suddenly bounds towards me. [Threat Detection] flaring painfully across my entire body, forcing me to slide out of the way as quickly as possibly. Just for the assailant's sword to pierce right through my left shoulder and pinning me to the wall.
"AAAAAGHHH!" I roar, more of the blood currently filling my lungs erupts from lips. My hands instinctively gripping around the blade to halt it from going any deeper. Just for the finely sharpened edge to split the skin of my palms like butter.
The mans grizzled brown eyes narrow further. "You are quite quick. I have aimed to kill you twice now, and you have narrowly avoided it both times. Interesting indeed." He comments as if studying a fascinating animal rather than a person. "It's a shame. These talents are wasted here. You have my condolences. Your timing was poor."
The assailant takes a knee in front of me while still pinning me with his sword. Raising his dagger up into a stabbing position. "Shut your eyes child. I shall make this quick."
A grimace sets hard into my face, [Threat Detection] flaring even more painfully than before. Warning me of a threat to my life that is already obvious.
But I am nothing if not stubborn.
I let out a scoff through gritted teeth. "You are a lot more skilled than the other [Bandits] we met."
For a moment he doesn't seem to register what I said. But eventually the calm and controlled look in his eyes changes. Gaining more focus. "You know what I am—what is the meaning of this?"
A smirk plays across my blood-stained lips. "We already know who you are. And what you are planning. We ran into Dreyfus and the rest of his clan a week ago. They told us everything."
But the smile doesn't last long as the assailant's expression darkens, twisting his sword painfully in my shoulder and drawing an agonized cry from my mouth. His face nearing dangerously to mine. Close enough to feel his seething breath through the cloth covering his face. His dagger lowering to his side.
"You speak the name of a traitor. You will cease your stalling and tell me where they are. Or I will not be so merciful."
A shiver rolls down my spine at the all-too-confident tone in that statement. My breath catches in my throat when I inhale deeply. Tensing up my legs as best as I can despite the deep wounds.
"They're—they're in…"
My hands quickly grab onto his jerkin for support to tuck and lift my legs. Hissing through the pain of all the weight on the blade in my shoulder. But the adrenaline tears through it like parchment.
"HELL!"
[Spring Kick] activates, shooting my feet into his chest in a split second. Pain tears through my thighs, the gashes splitting open further from the extension. The assailant's eyes bulge on contact as he's doubled over. Unable to stop himself from sailing backwards and hitting the wall next to the front door. But he doesn't just connect with it. He crashes straight through it.
The wooden boards and supports snap like twigs as the man barrels through like a stone from a trebuchet. A gaping hole opens in front of the cabin, spewing loose and shattered boards. The assailant hits the ground hard and tumbles over several times. Very nearly hitting another building across the dirt road outside. But finally collapses in a heap on the grass.
A satisfying sight. But the exertion has really done a number on me. The gashes in my thighs are now open wide and gushing blood. The padded trousers are already soaking through. But at least his sword is still plugging the hole in my shoulder. And it's too deep for me to remove in my current state anyway.
I can't help but scream from the agony when I try to move my legs again. And waves of nausea hit me when I stare at the gaping red maws of meat and exposed bone.
A loud groan snaps my attention to the breach at the front of the house. The grimace returns to my features as I spot the assailant picking himself up. His feet are shaky, but he manages to stand. Turning back in my direction. His hood and mask torn away in the chaos and leaving him exposed.
Sun tanned skin with wrinkles to match around his bald head. A few simple black intersecting lines tattooed along his strong jawline. A few gold rings dangle from the lobes of his ears. And he does not look happy. His jaw tightly clenched, and a very pronounced vein throbs on his forehead.
[Thread Detection] flares across my body yet again as he likely targets me with something. Panic overwhelming my senses as he bounds back towards me with speed. But a silvery flash from the left meets him halfway.
A resounding bell tone rings out when it connects with the assailant. Knocking him off coarse to crash him through Thorpe's front door and into his kitchen. Smashing the dining table in the process.
And for a moment I stare at the [Bandit] now laid out on the floor. Then trailing my eyes back to the opening in the front wall.
Relief washing over me at the sight of Ser Steppan standing outside, lowering his shield just a tad while he inches cautiously through the breach. Keeping his main attention on the [Bandit] already picking himself back up again. The [Knights] eyes flicker over to me briefly. "Miss Liore, are you alive?"
I let out a groan in response. "Still—still breathing."
Steppan relaxes somewhat at my answer. "I will be with you in a moment." He assures before focusing fully on the assailant who looks even more agitated than before. White-knuckling the grip of his dagger.
With how quiet it gets, I could probably hear a pin drop. The two men staring across at one another like tension on a thin thread.
But it's the assailant who moves first. His body blurs at a speed I can't track. One moment he's in the kitchen and the next he's sliding in behind Steppan's shield. Aiming a strike right at the back of the [Knight's] neck. Nearly connecting until Steppan's shield arm rotates back just enough to redirect the dagger with the very edge of his shield. Spinning around with his sword arm into an upward slash.
The [Bandit] is quick enough not to get cut in half, but only by a margin. The tip of Steppan's longsword carves a path up through the assailant's jerkin, slicing it open like an unbuttoned vest.
The assailant growls in frustration. Already speeding around the [Knight] to deliver stabs, slashes, and kicks. But each and every one of them is buffeted or redirected by Steppan, who already seems like he's gotten down our enemies rhythm as the cabin's interior echoes with the clash of metal. Delivering attacks and parries at one another so quickly that they almost meld together in my vision. Sparks flying from heated contact.
The pain in my legs seems to fade into the background while I watch in open astonishment at the display of prowess between them. And two things become readily apparent.
One being that this [Bandit] guy was definitely toying with me from the beginning. I would never have been able to keep up with him if he got serious.
And secondly, Steppan uses his shield as a weapon just as much as his sword. Steppan brutally punishes any misstep by the assailant with bashes or even full-on punches with the curved slab of metal.
Finally, the frustration in the assailant gets the better of him. One misplaced stab has the [Bandit] back stepping too short and Steppan closes the distance right into his face. The [Knight's] shield appears as if it's vibrating for a split second until it strikes his opponent with another resounding tone. Spiking the man through the cabin breach and back onto the dirt path outside. Kicking up a mound of dirt in the process.
Steppan continues to advance on him with his shield up and sword readied. The [Bandit] already scrambling to his feet and is about to lunge when a sharp whistle takes his attention. Right before an arrow buries into his shoulder blade. Causing him to scream out in pain.
The shouts of the [Guards] on the wall now facing inward. "INTRUDER! INTRUDER IN THE VILLAGE!" Followed by one of the smaller bells on the guard towers ringing continuously.
"FUCK!" The [Bandit] snarls out, side-stepping another arrow while quickly reaching for his belt. Grabbing onto a length of wire that he yanks out. And in a split second, a gray cloud of smoke erupts from his cloak and blankets the area. Encroaching on the inside of the cabin as well.
Steppan immediately doubles back inside as the smoke shrouds everything around us. The [Knight] slides to his knees in front of me. Keeping me at his back while bringing his shield up. Holding his sword out to block off the open spot next to us.
Silence crawls back. The smoke is dense and feels like it sticks to my skin. The inside of Thorpe's cabin is entirely obscured. I'm not even able to see the rocking chair in the den, and it should only be a couple of yards away.
Steppan is as still as a statue except for the slight shifts in his face when his eyes flicker to either side at the slightest noise.
I can hear a few of the [Guards] yelling out orders to each-other in the distance but can't quite make out what they're saying. A fuzzy sensation starts to crawl up my right shoulder. And I start getting a bit lightheaded, but that's probably just from the blood loss.
That is until that fuzzy sensation turns to sharp prickling. My breath catches in my throat before coughing out. "ON OUR RIGHT!!!"
The [Knight] takes the hint, sliding himself off to my right as the smoke on that side lights orange before a bolt of fire bursts through. Smashing against Steppan's shield and scattering molten slag across the cabin. Catching miniature fires on the wooden structure.
The [Knight] lets out nervous breath. "Fucken cantrips…"
Steppan keeps his defenses up, scooting back closer to me. And we wait.
And wait.
But no other attacks come our way. The smoke beginning to disperse. Enough that I can see silhouettes of people down the road running towards us.
"WHERE DID HE GO?!"
"HE BOLTED! WE LOST SIGHT OF HIM!"
"CHECK PERIMETER! STAY IN GROUPS!"
The [Knight] and I seem to share a relieved sigh. The [Bandit] obviously decided not to push his luck and ran. Steppan's shoulders relax as he sheathes his sword and turns to face me. "You still with me, Miss Liore?"
The pain has greatly faded and I am starting to feel somewhat cold. Definitely not good. But could be worse. At least the bleeding seems to have stopped. So I slowly nod back. "Still—here." I manage to answer quietly. "Thanks—for the assist."
Steppan certainly looks more concerned at that answer but keeps his cool. He chuckles a little nervously while fiddling with the pouches on his own belt to produce a couple of healing potions. "It was my pleasure. Now, how about we get you untethered from Mr. Thorpe's wall, aye?"
I take a few shaky breaths and give him a weak smile. "I'd like that…"