Words and Wollops.(finished)

[Alex]

Alex was poised to fight, but he knew he had lost his advantage. Although some of the bandits looked doubtful, they were all armed, and Alex didn't have a height advantage anymore. Still, he knew that giving up would serve him no better, so he stuck at it. He and Kearn were injured, but the two of them already having taken down five bandits was enough to give them hope.

When he saw that Kearn's words were having little effect, Alex took action. He threw out some bolts of magic to the ground at the bandits feet to keep them from approaching, and then he cast some wind magic at the walls which the group of brigands stood between to create some dust from the damage. It wasn't damaging, but it obscured his assailants' collection vision and, with the fire burning in front of them, it would make them sluggish.

At this point the ruffian which Kearn had crippled decided he'd had enough. Alex caught the bandit's pitiful glance before he silently slipped away, leaving his axe behind to give himself some extra speed for getting away from the battlefield. When he was completely out of sight, Alex addressed the other brigands. "It's no use fighting anymore. We're all ragged, and those still left alive are starting to desert you." As he said this, the bandits turned around and realised the absence of one of their own. "But, if you insist on stepping through that fire and fighting us, then do the smart thing." Alex threw more magic onto the already respectable fire to make it swell even more. "Let somebody else try first."

[Kearn O'Sorley]

Kearn watched as a fire started burning just in front of him, between the bandits and he. The winds picked up, throwing up snow and dirt into the air, and making it hard to see. He saw one of them had decided that it was too much for him, and had turned around taking the easy way out. That was good. One down. The others would go easier now.

The red head was tempted to pull out his whip again, and start cracking them with it, but something told him he'd need to keep his blade handy for these last few stressful moments. He stuck with his gut, and kept the blade up, watching the snow whipping through the air around the brigands. It was a little hard to see, and the fire at their feet suddenly raging unexpectedly brought home the idea of selfishness that preying on those weaker than you seemed built upon. Let someone else try first. Hmm... the kid was good with his words, even if he didn't yet have the voice to pull of the threat as it was meant to be done.

There were a few moments of tension, and Kearn almost dared to hope that they'd give up. Or at least try to wait them out, and give them a few more moments to work on the lot of them. It wasn't to be though. With a roar, the brute with the heavy axe leapt forward, clearing the fire in a bound, even as it licked at him from below. Kearn slipped forward, and put himself between Alex and the giant of a man, bringing his blade swiftly to meet the attack. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air, and bounced off the side of a building with a crack. He shook his head, seeing doubles of everything as he tried to push himself up. Sound came distantly and he couldn't seem to focus through the murk on his brain. He needed to get his sword. It was important, but he couldn't think clearly enough to know why. Just that he needed it. Still stunned, he looked around, hearing an angry roar that sounded like the death throes of a man as though a great distance away. Kearn looked up, as he pushed himself to his feet. He weaved uncontrollably, looking around on the ground for his sword until he steadied himself with a hand against the wall for support. He looked up then, and saw the giant of a man with Kearn's cutlass protruding from his stomach out near the man's shoulders and neck. Oh, that was where I left it.

The others were already running away, seeing the sight of a blade sticking out of their leader in a strike that most men wouldn't even have had the strength to manage. Kearn wouldn't have either, but the force of the brute's leap had carried the right strength. Seeing things calming down a little bit, Kearn let himself relax. Maybe it was nap time. Unless he was mistaken, that brute of an axeman had hit the bard very hard, and he was still seeing double from the impact... Hooey.

[Alex]

As the brigand leader leapt through the fire, Alex's eyes widened in sheer terror. His fear paralysed him as the axe was about to come crashing down on top of him.

But the blow never came. Not on Alex at least.

Opening his eyes after hearing the sound of metal scraping metal, Alex was surprised to see the bandit now lying on the ground with a blade running through his abdomen. The blood from his wound was being soaked up by the snow, turning red right in front Alex. Turning around he saw Kearn slumped against the wall, broken badly. Alex searched for a vulnerary in the man's possessions, but to no avail. He sat back in the snow and let thoughts come and go. This man had thrown himself in front of an attack just to protect some unknown child. Alex realised that maybe he could rely on people more than he first thought. Maybe there were more Emilys out there in the world. Maybe he just needed to learn to trust.

Going back to Kearn's limp body, Alex searched his pockets for gold, intending to give whatever he found to the innkeeper. He didn't have the audacity to take it for himself, but he knew it was no good sitting in Kearn's pockets. He then found one of the pastries Kearn had taken from the inn; One of the same pastries he'd wanted to share with Alex, who now decided to eat it out of respect for him. Getting up to leave, Alex noticed the downed brigand struggling to get away to heal his wounds. Disgusted in what had been caused by this man, Alex walked up to him, grabbed the hilt of Kearn's sword and twisted it in the wound before removing it. He didn't take pleasure in what he was doing, but he wanted the man to be punished for what he had done. After removing the sword from the man's chest, Alex decided that, although he wanted this monstrosity to suffer horribly as punishment, he couldn't risk him healing and terrorising others. After giving one last scornful look at the man, he plunged Kearn's blade into his heart, putting all his weight behind it.

Finally, Alex searched the brigand. Finding approximately 150 gold, Alex pocketed the coins; This man was not a hero. The town didn't deserve to be tainted by this man's contribution, so Alex left silently, both detached from what had happened yet also feeling heavy of heart.

[Kearn O'Sorley]

Snow continued to dust down over the remnants of the little battlefield. It was the bloodiest mess that the town could remember in years. For many it was the worst they had seen. And they'd had the temerity to let these strangers, a child and a traveling minstrel, go out into their home and fight their battles? The innkeeper and several of the others in the town felt a guilt creeping onto them. The innkeep, Gerald, looked around. The child had insisted on leaving after telling them of what had happened. It hadn't felt right letting him go, but who was he to stop this lad who'd helped save their town.

"Come on." He said to some of the braver and more able men taking shelter in his Inn. "Let's go and find what's left of them."

A small troop of four men left the tavern, and searched through the town. Destruction had been wrought on them, and they found their share of pain as they looked on the town. A few fires burned still, and a few bodies were left out in the snow. They found the bard near the run through body of one of the brigands, and Gerald knelt down on the ground next to Kearn. He looked at him for a minute, A few nicks and cuts. A bad slice on the arm, and a lump on the back of the man's head where he'd hit the wall. Kearn's chest looked like it had taken an impact, shirt and cloak torn and skin black and blue with the impact and scrapes. He looked like he'd been crushed by quite a blow....

Breath softly misted out of Kearn's mouth and the innkeeper's eyes shot open wide.

"Hey... He's still alive! He's still alive!" He turned to look back at the broken songsmith in front of him. He wouldn't be for long though... Not unless he was made of stern stuff. "Someone go get our surgeon!"

- - - - -

A few weeks later.

Kearn rested on a chair, softly playing his lute near the fire. His chest ached something fierce, and some of the movement in his arm was sluggish. He still felt as though he'd been pounded to death. Not quite, as it turned out. Only nearly to death. He'd nearly frozen as well, but someone upstairs must have decided that he hadn't sung his last. The first few days had been rough, once he'd become consious and started to recover though he'd settled a little, satisfied that he'd make it, even if his experiences hear marked him. He thought of what had happened a little.... He'd been left out in the snow by that child, who'd left before the town had even found him.... Kearn was a little salty over that, but it was a very child like thing to do. Mostly he was just glad to be alive still.... Time would tell where his walk would take him in future walks though.