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Post by Hedric Salloen on Sept 21, 2011 16:29:56 GMT -6
A man trekked through the woods, pushing away branches and vines and whatever got in his way. Whenever a bush or a path of grass got too thick he would step his foot down and push his way through. His arms bore small scratched from thorns and mosquitoes buzzed around, eager to get a meal. He slapped his arm now and again to kill one of the spawn of a never ending swarm it seemed. Everywhere he went seemed to be more and more mosquito. This was ridiculous. The sun radiating heat directly above him and the cicadas almost drowned out everything else with their endless noise.
His hand combed through his loose red hair and momentarily pushed it away from his neck, so that air would cool him down a bit. The humidity was dreadful. Hedric paused for a moment and stayed silent, and although the bites of the insects around him irritated him, he was keen to make not one sound. He heard a faint trickling noise, even through the cicadas. It was water, all right. He made his way to where the thought he he heard the water and soon he came across a clearing, green grass met stone and lime rock, and even further was a stream. It wasn't the cleanest for sure, but it would have to do. He pulled out a cloth and soaked it in the stream, making sure it was full of water. He raised the cloth above his head and wringed it above his head, welcoming the cold water. He repeated this action a couple more times until he had his fill.
Hedric left himself panted for air - he took a moments breath, and then exhaled. There was a town around here somewhere. A traveler he had met earlier told him so; not to far from a stream, he said. How long has he been out here anyways? Four... five hours, maybe? He was near the border, sort of, but it would take at least another two or three hours to leave Bern. He could keep on going and stay at the tavern that he heard about, but it was much too far. He would have to stay at this village...
From what he knew about villages and rivers, people always settled down, near water. It could be either upstream, or down stream. This could've been a river turning into a tributary, or one of the tributaries that would help form a river. Ugh, this was bother some. He would go upstream. That's where the traveler seemed to be coming from anyways., and he wasn't following the direction of this here stream. Or was he? Gah! He didn't know anymore. The best he had to go on is to travel upstream, and so upstream he went, keeping an ear open for any sounds of civilization, although these cicadas weren't exactly helping...
Ten minutes has past since then, and still nothing. No village. Had he gone the wrong way or something? He couldn't make heads or tails of this forest and his armor was starting to get heavy. Sweat covered his skin like a thick layer of grease it seemed, and he didn't enjoy one bit of this madness. Where could he go that could help lead him towards--
"Excuse me sir, are you lost?" Said a man's voice, interrupting his thoughts. Hedric jumped at his voice and looked at him. A fisherman it seemed. Strange, he hadn't heard him coming, he could've sworn he was alone.
"If you're looking for our town it's just over the hill there, about a five minutes walk."
"Thank you kind sir," Hedric praised, putting his hands together and bowing his head slightly, "is there any place I will be able to eat there, and have some rest?"
The man smirked to himself, a man who seemed unfamiliar with this kind of graciousness, especially one from noble blood. "Well of course. There's an Inn in the center of town. The Bernview Inn; it's a little hard to spot, it's right next to the bakery."
"Thank you."
And like the fisherman had said, the village was right over the hill and it quickly came into sight. At first, the Bernview Inn seemed like a peculiar name, but it soon became sense. The village itself was on a hill, with a lake right next to it that had many streams flowing to and fro from it. As he approached the entrance to the village, he could actually see much of Bern, many forests, many villages - despite that they were quite a distance away. So like the man earlier had said... Bernview, right? Next to the... smithy? No, the bakery. Yes. It was indeed rather hard to find, and it turned how to be a small building - an actual house. Hedric assumed that they turned into into an Inn for those who need it. As he walked in he was welcomed with a warmth - not the humidity he's been feeling, but a dry, comforting warmth. The room smelt of spices and herbs, lavender, he figured. Hedric strolled his way to the front oak-carved desk, where he was approached by an average looking women. Hedric requested a bowl of vegetables and some pork, and then sat himself down at a table in a corner. It seemed like that sort of spot. Dark, next to the stairs, away from the door. That sort of thing.
Hedric un-clipped his sheath holding his sword and set it down, and he began to relax. Oh god. He hasn't felt this comfortable in about five hours. The same women came by with his food and as soon as she did, Hedric remembered something. He forgot to order something to drink. "Oh, and can I have some mead with that? Sorry."
The women nodded and walked off, where Hedric was left to chow down. Normally he wouldn't request alcohol, but God damn, he was tired and he was going to go loose. He had to rest today for tomorrows venture. He didn't plan on going out again today, and he was going to enjoy his food for now. The pork was cooked brilliantly with spices and was cooked to a golden crisp. The bowl of steamed vegetables had carrots, potatoes, green beans, and corn. It was simple, but he enjoyed. The lady had come back with a bottle of blueberry mead, and as she left, Hedric put the bottle to his mouse and took a mighty swig.
Yeah, he was going to stay for a bit longer...
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Sept 22, 2011 5:45:59 GMT -6
As much as Hedric wanted to stay in the inn, he knew he couldn't. He had to earn some money in this town as to buy supplies. Sure, he has some pocket change, but it would be safe if he did a little side work. He finished up his food; scarfing down the buttered steamed vegetables, and devoured the salted golden pork. He walked up to the women at the counter, and greeted him with a smile. She seemed rather friendly towards him it seemed, but nothing in the ways of attraction.
"I'd like a room for tonight," Hedric said, "also, here's the money for the meal." Hedric put forward ten coins. The women tanked him with a nod of her head, and out the currency in a pouch. He then stepped away from the counter and out the door. The same humidity had invited him as soon as he stepped outside, and Hedric watched people going to and fro, sweat beading on the people pushing wheel barrels and those just strolling along their merry way without a care in the world. Hedric had to find some temporary work. He could go to the smithy, but he doubted the man would need the help from an inexperienced traveler. There was, however, farming duty. Not the most exciting of tasks, but sometimes they were very rewarding. He decided this would be the best course of action.
Hedric looked around from house to house, looking for people that needed farm work. So far, these were just village people, they didn't have any farms. Perhaps he was going about this wrong, and that looking on the outskirts would be a better idea considering that there are wider tracks of land. Oh God. Wider tracks. He hasn't even seen the land yet and he knew he was going to be sore from it.
Nevertheless, he continued towards the outskirts, and to his prediction, was farmland. Quite beautiful stuff, too. There was also a sign pointing to where he wanted to go to. Apparently if he wanted to cross the border, he would just have to following this... pseudo road. Said in such a way seeing as how the road was just a dirt path that plants no longer grow on because of the traffic it gets. Not that there was a lot of it or anything. Anybody coming from the border following this road would end up walking through these outskirts before reaching the village.
On his left, was land that already had plants on it - wheat it seemed. Not done growing yet, it seems. But on his right, there was an older look man, maybe fifty-five, was plowing his field, and has already done half it seemed. Hedric sighed to himself. It was better than nothing, he supposed. So he walked down the small hill that the path started out on and walked towards the fence of the farm. the man that was there saw him coming, and so he picked up the hoe and leaned on it, waiting for Hedric to reach him.
"Yeah?" he said, "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for work, I could plow the rest of this here field for you, if you like."
"Really? You'd do that?" He asked, sounding gracious.
"Oh, sure! For a fee of course."
The farmer's tone shrunk from gracious to a much more negative tone.
"Oh really?" he sneered," You people are all the same, so cheap, so material! To afraid to help a man out for nothing. I say, when I--"
"I'll seed the field, too." Hedric interrupted, trying to convince the man to let him work for payment.
The man looked hesitant.
"Fine," he grumbled, "I would like it done preferably before nightfall." The farmer said, handing him his hoe and marching inside. Hedric chuckled. "So would I."
A half hour has past since then, and Hedric was still plowing the field. His entire body beaded with sweat, his arms were tensed, and he was putting every last ounce of his strength into this task. He estimated he would only have to do this for about ten or fifteen minutes. He still had seeding to do. He kept his conviction strong and diverted his attention back to the job at hand. Plowing. He stuck the hoe into the ground and pulled, ripping it through the soil. He stuck the hoe into the ground once more and pulled, ripping it through the soil. He made sure to keep any animals away, to keep them from messing up the land too much. Mostly just pigs that strayed too far from their pens. Birds and squirrels don't do much in the art of trampling the land. Whatever amount of gold he'll be earning better be well worth it. He took a moment to pick up a pouch dangling from his belt and opened it, and poured its contents into his mouth. He put the cap back on the water skin and went back to work.
1, 2, 3... 1, 2, 3... 1, 2, 3...
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Sept 23, 2011 13:52:20 GMT -6
As soon as Hedric was done with plowing the field, he walked back to the barn house, with his arms rather sore. He leaned the hoe against the wall of the house and picked up a large burlap sack containing seeds for wheat. It was rather simple really, despite that the bag was heavy and it made his tired arms even more sore. He rested it on his shoulder and tore the top off of the bag, and by doing so, seeds poured from the bag. Ah, crap. He knew he had to spread it out and not just pour it all over the field. He brought it down from his shoulder and held it, and left it hanging. With his other hand, he grabbed a fist full of seeds and tossed along the field, making sure to cover the whole field. Oh God, his arms. This was painful.
It had taken him twenty minutes to seed the entire farm, having took three trips to replace the diminishing bag of seeds. He had earned his payment from the man, thirty gold, which was a fair amount. Not as much as he figured the work was worth, but it was something. It was able to buy a couple meals, which was fortunate. Plus he was given two loafs of sourdough bread for his work. He had slowly paced his way back towards the inn, sore as he watching the orange evening light slowly dim. The sound of villagers rushing home and hammer nails into things that had to be repaired. Pigs squealed as the were pushed back into their pens. The smell of the bakery slowly diminished as closing hours came close. Hedric had finally approached the door of the inn, and opened the door knob, feeling dry air once more.
The woman at the counter recognized Hedric as he came through and handed him a small parchment, with scribble of ink that said 2B. His room. He made his way up the stairs and opened the door on his right. It was a modest room. A one person bed, a wooden primitive toilet. It was one where it had a switch near the base of the bowl, and if you stepped on it, it would open up the toilet and whatever the bowl held was dumped into a holding tank. At least these were decent enough where it had a lid to hide the smell. It was lit by candle light, and was rather nice. He walked around his room, licking his fingers to snuff out the candles and sat on his bed for tonight. He removed his boots and armor, chain mail, bracers, and leather torso and all. His clothes stayed on.
He slipped himself underneath the covers and thought about the past day. He had indeed traveled a long distance, and worked for quite a bit of the day. It was only once his head hit the pillow had he realized how tired he actually was. He passed out almost near instantly, and it was still during the evening. There was about an hour or two of daylight still available, and still room for dusk. Though he no doubt needed - and deserved this rest. Hopefully he'll wake up early in the morning...
Possibly not.
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Post by Bryson Desmonia on Sept 23, 2011 17:55:17 GMT -6
A few hours after the mercenary fell asleep, a red-armored man stood on a hilltop, kneeling as he watched his most recent quarry. This was Bryson Desmonia, the ex-farmer, and he was hunting bandits. He had been following them for the past couple hours, somehow doing it silently and swiftly in his armor. He gripped his lance tight as he watched one take up a torch as the others grabbe their axes. Bryson frowned and then began to make his way down the hill, keeping an eye on those bandits all the while. After finally making it down all the way, he grabbed his shield and crept into the town, watching the bandits as they barged into a farm house, coming out a moment later, blood dripping from their axes. Bryson grimaced as he reached the obvious conclusion that the farmer who lived in that house was dead. The bandits passed by Bryson's position, not noticing him, and into the town proper.
Bryson sighed and followed them. He couldn't fight them all by himself...
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Sept 26, 2011 5:57:46 GMT -6
Despite being a hard day, which would have left him in a deep sleep, he had unconsciously heard the abrupt barging of the door, which had altered his dream slightly. Not that he would be able to remember the dream - everybody always has dreams; they just don't remember them afterward. And having trained to have his mind to be on the defensive, he woke up. Hedric's eye fluttered open and he still felt sore and exhausted. He waited a moment with his eyes closed, and yet he still could not fall back asleep. He often had that problem. His eyes were wide awake, and his mind was only a bit perky, but his body was dragging. Exhausted.
That's when he noticed a warm light through his window, emanating from behind a building. Well that was odd. Who would be up this late at night? That's when they slowly came into view. They look rough - and they held weapons and torches. Blood coated one's iron. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Bandits. Sure, he came across a few hostile animals, a highwaymen or two, but actual bandits? Who are confidant enough in their abilities to raid actual villages and towns? Strength in numbers he supposed - and while Hedric was confidant about his own skill, those were quite a bit of bandits. Well... someone had to do it... maybe with a little help from the villagers or someone, he was certain he could kick their arses.
He put his armor back on as quickly as he could and slipped into his boots, all traces exhausted gone as adrenaline coursed through his body. If he was going to die, he was going to die fighting - in another country. That's right, he wasn't going to die here. Not now. He clipped the sheath onto his belt and drew out his sword. He creeped his way down the stairs silently, keeping an eye on the bandits. They didn't seem to be heading towards his direction. Which was good. Catch them off guard. He crouched down below the window as to now be seen and leaned against the wooden door of the inn. There were about five... six... seven... Yeah, he may need some help. But that wasn't on his mind right now. First he had to figure out a way to alert the people...
Hedric rammed his way through the door and shouted on the top of his lungs, with his weapon drawn at the group.
"Bandits!"
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Nov 7, 2011 11:26:27 GMT -6
As soon as Hedric made the cry, the village erupted into activity and the bandits were surprised, and caught off guard. Their original initiative was spoiled and now they had to fall back on their back-up; slaughter anyone that comes in their way and burn all evidence of them being there. One of the bandits ran towards a building with a torch in hand and another charged towards Hedric with their blade poised to hack at his shoulder. Hedric parried the blow and kicked him square in the chest with his solid boots. He brought down his sword into the bandits abdomen, hearing the bloodcurdling screaming. This was possibly the worst noise anyone could hear... but he had no other choice, this was war... not quite, but it was close. He removed his blade from the dying man and moved on to the next one.
In the heat of battle, he felt his sword bang against a solid wooden shield, and saw a small war hammer coming in to batter him in the stomach. He felt the blow and curdled over, and dropped his sword, leaving him gasping for air. The bandit was just about to smash his head in, but Hedric made a quick recovery and took his fist to make a quick jab in the scrotum. The man caterwauled and bent over as Hedric made an uppercut, undoubtedly shattering the mans jaw.
"Gah..."
The pain in his stomach was still sore, and the blow he made to the man's jaw was very hard. He shook away the pain in his hand and picked his sword back up. The place was chaotic, and had a hard time spotting the bandits in the crowd of frightened citizens. He eyed a knight-looking figure in red armor. He had secretly hoped that he was on their side, otherwise, there was no way he could make it out of here alive without abandoning the doomed village. There was no way his sword could penetrate that armor, and he would no doubt protect his head. But his thoughts were interrupted as he saw a glow in the corner of his eye and a heat beside his face.
One of the buildings was beginning to burn.
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Post by Bryson Desmonia on Nov 7, 2011 15:14:55 GMT -6
Bryson grunted as he saw and felt the building catch on fire. Damn bandits. The man with the sword had done what he could do, Bryson wagered. Now it was time for him to do some good. The banging of hard wood on metal was heard as the armored man banged his lance against his shield, attracting the bandits' attention. "All right, come on you lily-livered scum!" In the light of fire, he was a fearsome sight; all red metal and weapon illuminated in the harsh light. "Have at ya!" Three bandits broke off from the group to deal with him.
The first attack was misjudged, and the axe slid off the shield without much more damage than the ringing sound left behind. The second was a heavy blow, but still Bryson managed to parry it with his shield. His arm numbed a little, but he payed it no mind. His lance jabbed forward, catching the third bandit before his attack could connect, straight through the bandit's chest. A quick flourish brought the lance down over the skull of the first as he was attempting to pick up his axe with a satisfying crack. As Bryson turned to face the second, he felt a pain in his left shoulder as the metal was driven down. But it held, not breaking, and the bandit was taken care of with a quick jab into the chest.
The armored man, having taken his lance back from the dead bandit's body, strode towards the swordsman, advancing on the bandits as he did. His lance was held with that authority of one who knew the exact best way to deal with multiple opponents from within his armor and behind and his shield, and, after watching three of their number being slaughtered with seemingly little effort, watched Bryson carefully. The armored ex-farmer stopped, and kicked Hedric gently. "You okay?" he grunted, not taking his eyes off the bandits. Their momentary fear of him would pass, and then anger at the death of their fallen comrades would kick in.
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Nov 7, 2011 15:42:25 GMT -6
Hedric felt the kick and had immediately mistaken it for a bandit, even as gently as it was, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and with a wild flourish, he blindingly swung his sword, but as disoriented as he was at the moment, he had missed the armored man by a long shot. He felt nothing at the end of his sword but air and he forced his eyes open to see what was in front of him. An overwhelming surge of relief swept over him as it was the knight looking figure he had saw earlier. There was blood on his lance and he wasn't attacking him... he must have been on his side. He had hardly heard what he had said earlier.
"Oh thank God," he panted, "I mean - sorry - er, thank you! Uh, I don't know what to say."
For the moment, even during the raid, he could find a calm reassurance even in the midst of chaos. Unfortunately, this meeting would have to be cut short as the corner eye caught a brigand slit the throat of a young woman, and her blood poured out in a thick red ribbon of a stream. He silently swore at himself for getting distracted by the man. He barely had time to react to the murder before the man came charging towards him with a flail. Hedric swung his sword in a parry, but in doing so, the flail had wrapped around his sword enough to be yanked from his hands. Before the bandit could swing again, Hedric had enough time to grab the chain near the base of the ball and wrap it around his neck as his hand reached for the handle.
"Not right now!" Hedric shouted to him, "We'll talk later - go!" His muscles tensed and his face grew red as he pulled back on the chain as hard as he could as the bandit was choking to death, desperately trying to struggle free. The handle had earlier slipped from the bandits hand when he had grabbed the chain. Hedric backed up to a wall so that he was relatively concealed by the darkness and so that nothing could sneak up on him.
This was the first actual battle of his life so far besides defeating the occasional highwayman, but he had never killed them. Just... left them with a "few wounds".
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Post by Bryson Desmonia on Dec 2, 2011 21:59:47 GMT -6
Bryson nodded, appreciating this red-haired man's battle ethic. Not waiting to see how he handled the flail, Bryson clanged off, rushing a group of two bandits cornering a woman. He hit one in the back with his shield, knocking him into his friend, before thrusting his lance forward, skewering both of them. The woman took a glance at Bryson, who was already charging another group of bandits, and then ran for her life.
Am axe hit his right shoulder plate, denting it and numbing the arm underneath, but once again it saved Bryson from loosing a limb. Unfortunately, it also made some movements difficult or impossible, but, fortunately, putting a lance through the bandit's gut wasn't something he couldn't do. An axe clipped the top of his shield, threatening to tear it away, but the armored man merely took a step forward, dislodging the axe, and then the shield went up, clipping the bandit's hand and forcing the axe to fall harmlessly to the right side. A quick bash and a satisfying crack later, and that bandit was down, numerous bones broken. Bryson brought the back end of his lance around, knocking another bandit unconscious, before stopping for a brief respite to take a look at what was going on.
Very few men had taken up arms against the bandits for some reason, or perhaps it was the fact that the usual men who would have fought them off had already been killed... Nonetheless, this little skirmish was going poorly for them. The bandits outnumbered them about five to... No, six to one, with that number quickly tilting even further into the bandits' favor. He hated to do this, but he'd be dead if he didn't. "Hey, kid! We need ta get outta 'ere, and soon!"
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Dec 5, 2011 14:16:48 GMT -6
In the midst of battle, Hedric was slightly disoriented. He heard the sounds of an attacker behind him, but when he swung his sword, no man or woman was there. His eyes had caught hold of a long haired bandit with a tattoo of what seemed to be a wasp on his neck. He was about to charge him, but the yelling of the red armored man he saw earlier interrupted him. That moment's hesitation made him loose the bandit in the crowd, and Hedric silently swore. He was right, things were getting out of control. But not right now, they still had some sort of fighting chance; or so he thought at least.
"I agree," Hedric yelled back over the noise, "soon, but not now!"
With a flourish of his sword, he swung around and caught his blade into the throat of a bandit that was sneaking up on him. Wedged into his flesh, blood spurting into all directions and the body went limp. He ran into position next to the knight and managed to take a breath. He would have a better time surviving in numbers, he knew that. In a fight it seemed almost instinctive.
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Post by Bryson Desmonia on Mar 17, 2012 21:53:30 GMT -6
Bryson swung his lance around in a completely useless manner, but it was certainly threatening. He clanged forward, sweeping his lance out in front of him, driving four bandits back, grimacing all the while. The one on the far left snarled, and then rushed the red-armored man, who impaled the man upon his shield. Almost immediately, Bryson regretted it, as the other three bandits took their chance and attacked. Bryson lifted his shield... Only to be surprised when only two of the axes hit. He shoved forward, sending something forward, but he couldn't get a good idea for what he was pushing until he looked up over his shield.
One bandit had an arrow in his temple; another had one in his chest; and the last one was on the ground, groaning from the concussion Bryson had given him. The ex-farmer looked down at the man, and then stabbed him in the leg. The bandit bellowed in pain but did nothing more, and Bryson took the moment to look for the mystery archer. All he saw, though, was a flash of blond hair and some green, and the man was gone. Bryson shrugged, and then turned around, looking for the red-haired kid. Bryson started clanging on down through the burning town, stabbing at any bandit foolish enough to get in his way, looking for the red-haired kid. "Oi! Come on; let's get outta here!" he bellowed once he caught sight of Hedric again. From the corner of his eye, Bryson could see an arrow plant itself in a bandit's chest, and he smiled. Whoever the hell that archer was, he would be able to handle the rest of this with his current tactic of avoiding the fight and running around.
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Mar 18, 2012 16:12:00 GMT -6
Hedric panted as the stinging sweat rolled down into his eyes, which were shooting back and forth looking for hostiles. Most of the villagers had evacuated, but he was still disoriented. This was the largest bandit attack he had ever witnessed! He heard the charging footsteps behind him and he twirled around and his sword hooked onto an axe, and disarmed the attacking bandit. Hedric raised his right leg and kicked the their knee, undoubtedly breaking it. The bandit bellowed in pain, but was swiftly silenced as he sunk his blade between the collarbone of his enemy, blood spurting out in all directions. He drew his blade from the flesh and continued to pant. He took a moment to spit out some blood from his mouth, and in doing so he felt a cut on his stinging red bottom lip. Hedric's ears perked as he heard a familiar voice calling out towards him, "Oi! Come on; let's get outta here!" It was the red-armored man with the spear. Without saying a word Hedric nodded. This town was burning to the ground, flames were jumping from building to building and there were still a couple bandits left, mostly raiding the houses. They had to leave. Hedric ran his way over to his side and took a couple more breathes. "Where are we going?" He said loudly enough to be projected over the sound of the flames between his wheezing.
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Post by Bryson Desmonia on Mar 19, 2012 15:45:27 GMT -6
Bryson looked up, searching for something recognizable in the night sky. He quickly pinpointed what he needed to find: a bright star that would always lead him north. The armored man pointed north-west with his lance, and then blocked another blow with his axe. A whistle was heard as another arrow met it's mark, and Bryson relaxed for a moment. "That way!" he roared, and then started clanging his way out of the village. He caught more glimpses of the blond archer running through the flames, houses, and trees, but he never got a good look at the always-moving target. He stopped at the sight of a flaming farm, near the outskirts of the town. "Ye better catch up, lad!" he bellowed, and then rushed into the woods.
Two bandits leaned against a tree, one half-asleep, the other sharpening his axe with a whet stone. Two dead bodies of villagers who had been attempting to escape the conflict lay nearby, mangled and bloody. The one sharpening his axe heard the clang of metal boots on the ground, and jabbed his partner in the side. "Wake up! Someone's comi-" he started to say, and then got a gauntlet-protected fist to the face. "Shut up." Bryson growled, and then bashed the unconscious bandit against the tree with his shield. The half-asleep one attempted to loosen his axe from it's strap at his waist, but got a lance to the chest before he got a chance to draw his weapon. Bryson pulled his lance from his chest, and then turned around, leaning against his lance in the middle of the little path, waiting for the red-haired swordsman.
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Post by Hedric Salloen on Mar 19, 2012 16:23:18 GMT -6
Hedric looked up and saw where he was pointing - the North star. Of course. He didn't think he had an actual destination, he mostly just asked for some route of escape. Hedric hesitated for the moment, honestly surprised at how swift the man was in his armor. After regaining control of himself he sheathed his bloodied sword, and ran after him, avoiding the falling buildings and obstacles, which included dead bodies, weapons, and the bandits that tried to hit him as he moved. A sword clipped his leather pauldron, but left no damage on his own body. He finally caught up to the knight just in time to see him thrust his lance into a man's chest, one of the bandits it seemed if their armoring was any indication. That didn't matter though - a human was a human, and death was gruesome no matter which way he looked at it. Hedric bent over with his hands pressed against his knees, panting with sweat oiling his face. "That archer..." he said, "was he a friend of yours? And furthermore, who are you?" He asked him between deep heavy breathes.
It was just then that it hit him; they hadn't been acquainted yet. He just came out of nowhere and picked a side, it seemed, as if he knew the bandits were going to be there. He was impressive too, he didn't have a sc-- Hedric's thoughts were interrupted when his wheezing became too much for him. He coughed and gagged a bit, a side result of all that energy spent and being choked out with smoke. Their raid was so sudden, so quick. He didn't even realize that it was him who woke up and gave the town some chance to fight back. Unfortunately, it was already burning to the ground.
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Post by Bryson Desmonia on Mar 19, 2012 17:06:33 GMT -6
The red-haired swordsman wheezed and panted, while Bryson just stood there. Sure, he was tired and sore, but he wasn't going to take any chances and just relax. There could still be bandits out this far, for all they knew. "Nah, I don't know tha archer. I wish I did though; I'd like ta give him my thanks." Bryson rumbled, and then turned away from the burning town. "Name is Bryson, lad. But let's save proper introductions fer later. Come on. Let's get tha hell outta here." The armored man put a hand on Hedric's shoulder, in a slight attempt at... Well, he wasn't sure, but the kid looked like he needed it.
Bryson lumbered through the woods, slightly ahead of Hedric. As far as he could tell in these dense woods, it was in the ungodly hours of the morning, and he was tired. The swordsman must be tired as well, and the brown-haired man felt safe enough with the amount of distance they had gotten between them and the raided village. Bryson looked behind him, and then stopped walking. "We'll stop here fer a while. If ya want, we can make a fire, but a meal ain't gonna come 'til the morning, at tha earliest." he grumbled, leaning against a tree. He rubbed his face with his right hand, leaning his lance against the tree beforehand, spending more time on his temples before sliding down to his goatee.
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