The wagon rolled more or less smoothly over the ground, the horse guided by Rilienâs deft hand, and honestly they made it so far that Lucien was beginning to wonder if the bait would be seized at all. As was usually the case with such things, it was just as heâd almost decided it would not that it was. The group was dipping into a small depression between two hills when there was a slight snap from one side, though not of the breaking-stick variety. Rather, it sounded distinctly likeâ
The horse upon which Lucien was mounted danced to the side just in time to avoid the thrust of a dagger from a rapidly-materializing rogue. Heâd never understand how they managed to conceal themselves in plain sight like thatâit wasnât classified as magic, but it was nothing that he could do, certainly. The element of surprise ruined, the woman wisely attempted to put space between herself and the heavily-armored knight on a large equine, only to be stopped by the sweeping action of Lucienâs poleax. He still hadnât replaced the one that had broken in the Deep Roadsâthis one was a loan from one of his future employees, and rather ideal for wielding from this high off the ground. Her legs pulled out from underneath her, she fell to the ground on her back, the spear-point of the weapon resting an inch from her poorly-protected throat.
âLeave, please,â Lucien said, about as kindly as one could manage from such a menacing position. The woman was brunette, and so while it was possible that their target had since run a dye through her hair, he thought it unlikely. He was actually mildly surprised when she nodded, and withdrew the blade far enough to let her up. She looked incredulously at him for a moment, and he shrugged. He wasnât willing to give this up, no matter how many times it came back to bite him. Thankfully, she actually left.
He was not so lucky the second time, and this time faced down two more, these a little better-prepared. One of them managed to catch him a hit on the side with a rough-looking mace, which, while not swung with enough force to break a rib, would likely produce a large circular bruise, armor or no. That one took the butt end of the implement to the temple, with enough force to crack his cranium, and in the same general motion, the axe-end bit into the shoulder of the other a second before he was able to wound the horse. This gave him a moment to glance back at the restâeveryone was engaged with someone else, and it was readily apparent that though his friends were skilled, this gang was much moreso than the average such group. They moved like real assassins, light on their feet, unhesitating in their ability to flicker in and out of visibility. Violette wore her usual slight battle-smile, an expression in truth rather mirthless, and Lilianeâs face was set into a deep scowl, but both worked through their foes with skill and precision.
He saw no heads of blonde hair save those belonging to Sophia and the younger Routhier.
Sophia had Vesenia drawn the moment she spied the first of the attackers assailing Lucien at the head of the column. They came upon them quickly, and viciously. Expecting a similar attack on her own sides, Sophia glanced left and right, hastily unfastening her hooded cloak with her left hand while her right gripped her sword. The attack, however, came from in front of her, by a crafty rogue who brought a spear of all things. Rather than strike directly at her, he went for her horse instead, the mount the Coterie had provided for the caravan. The blade stuck in the upper chest dangerously near the throat, and her mount immediately panicked at the sudden threat, rearing up on his hind legs. The spearmen pressed the advantage, digging heels into the sand and pushing the spear higher up.
The Viscount's daughter was barely able to get her leg out of the way of being crushed by the falling horse before the ground came up to meet them, greeting her with a painful slam to her side. She rolled over onto her back as the horse clambered to his feet again, eager to leave the sudden battleground behind. The spearman was on Sophia in a hurry, but she'd expected as much, and had her blade ready in time to deflect his attack before he could bury the spear in her belly. She landed a pair of kicks next, the first to the side of his knee to knock him off balance, the second more of a shove than anything, to give her time to make the fight even.
As he stumbled back a few paces Sophia rolled out of the cloak and spun onto her feet, armor glittering in the sun. By the time she'd set her feet, the spearman was attacking again. She had expected him to drop the weapon when it came to a duel; he wore a shortsword at his hip, a more common choice in single combat, but she soon learned that he remained with the spear for good reason. He was skilled in its use, fast and precise strikes accompanied by expert footwork. He darted left and right and back, keeping out of even Vesenia's long reach, all the while forcing Sophia to stay on her own guard, lest she be caught in an overzealous attack. One such maneuver left her with a relatively minor gash to her side, a thin trail of red running down her mail.
He wasn't perfect, though. Sophia proved that with a somewhat unorthodox tactic. A feigned attempt to swipe away his guard and charge forward was responded with the expected thrust and withdraw, but this time Sophia took a hand off her sword, reaching to grab the spear by the haft, her grip just beyond the blade itself. He refused to part with the weapon, so she pulled him into her range with it, drawing her sword across her body and swinging in a broad arc as the spearman came lurching forward, slicing open his chest and sending him spinning to the ground.
The moment heâd heard the unlikely sound, Rilien rolled sideways off the cart, hitting the sand with no sound audible over the general shouting and clanging that was the ambush getting underway. The slight whistle of a blade cutting through air was his only warning, and the Tranquil bent backwards, the shortsword, slicing a few hairs from his fringe but otherwise leaving him unscathed. The mercenary who leveled the attack clearly had not expected the dodge, and overbalanced, allowing the elf to drive one of his own daggers down into the back of his neck in a smooth motion that ended his life with the sort of callus efficiency that commonly characterized him.
The second attacker was more prepared, and swiped the first of a pair of axes for Rilienâs midsection, forcing him to dodge backwards and put his back to the cart itself. The second thudded into the wooden side of the thing inches from his eye, and Rilien ducked low, scooping a stone from the ground with his free hand and giving it a hard toss into the cart-horseâs flank, causing the creature to bolt forwards, freeing up his back. Drawing his other dagger, Rilien took a pair of steps backwards, shoring himself up with Aurora, their current foes readjusting to the new situation by backing off and circling a bit, clearly trying to decide how best to coordinate, now that their opponents were two rather than one.
Rilien was a little surprised by the flicker of amusement that passed through him, then, just a touch in the back of his head that never made it to his face. Such oddities were becoming more commonplace, now, but he was still hardly accustomed to them. "Shall we?â he asked of her, as deadpan as ever.
The whinnying of a spooked horse and the clang of metal alerted Aurora that the ambush had began. She sprang to her feet at the helm of the cart, just in time to witness an assassin slip into view at her immediate side. With Rilien since dismounting the cart, it left her room to take a step back and avoid the shortsword aimed at her thighs. A quick reaction and slide of her leg held the assassin's blade between the sole of her boot and the wood of the cart. She then reared back her other and issued a vicious kick toward the head of the assassin, only for it to sail harmlessly through the empty space where he was, materializing out of sight and leaving his blade behind. Aurora winced and grunted from the whiff, and kicked the blade further into the car, ensuring that it wouldn't come back to haunt her.
Out of her peripherals, she saw as another effortlessly made his way to the back of the cart, and Aurora turned to meet him. She stepped over the helm and onto the back of the cart proper, stepping over the objects that filled it to make it seem like they were carrying something. The assassin was first to strike, stabbing ahead with his dagger in a reverse grip. Aurora countered by pressing a palm against his forearm and threw a punch at him, aiming for the solar plexus. While the hit did connect, it wouldn't matter as her balance was shot when the cart charged ahead, causing both the assassin and Aurora to jerk backward and fall off. However, it did leave Aurora with the better position, as she straddled the assassin who lay prone on his back. She took advantage, and attempted the punch again, this time proving far more effective. She followed it with another pair just to be sure.
As she stood, she felt something brush against her back. The sight of alabaster hair stayed her hand and pushed her eyes forward, acknowledging it was Rilien. "Better than waiting," She agreed, throwing her dusty cloak over her shoulders.
It was at this point that the group was set upon by a fresh wave of fighters, these ones assuredly professional, all cloaked and hooded in uniform black, wearing the crest of a red fox-head emblazoned on the back of these. They were also dressed in the manner of marine soldiers, though not of any standard army; much of their equipment was well-waterproofed, and even the cloaks had a slick sort of shine to them, indicating a treatment made to keep water from soaking into the fabric. The fact that all of them were dressed the same way, including the hoods, made it very difficult to tell if the actual target was among them, but Lucien would give his right arm if these werenât actual members of the pirateâs crew. They were simply too well-equipped to be mere hired diversions. There were ten in total, augmenting the numbers already present as whomever was leading them chose to commit to the engagement, rather than cutting and running when the others startedâslowly, but surelyâto fall. It was an indication that the leader believed these ten would be sufficient to deal with the caravan guard, even knowing they were probably not the usual Coterie fare.
The tactical implications of this, however, would have to wait for later. Lucien found himself with no less than three to deal with on his own, another one went for Liliane and one for Violette. Sophia was in the unfortunate position of being unhorsed, injured and now in the company of two, and the other three joined with the three others still circling Rilien and Aurora.
Releasing his reins, Lucien let the trained warhorse have her head, unsurprised when her first instinct was to kick back at the one trying to flank them. Her hoof caught the manâs jaw, knocking him, at least for now, to the ground. The other two scissored in as a unit, and he chose to let the left one go as he went for the right one, swinging not with the axehead, but the butt end of the weapon. He missed her jaw, which heâd been aiming for, and hit her shoulder instead. The other one found a joint in his armor when he wasnât looking, and Lucien grunted as a red line welled up on his side. Shifting his feet, he tapped the horseâs flank, causing her to rear on command, which at least succeeded in backing them off. Another tap elsewhere whirled her around, and he held his axe steadily vertical, effectively clotheslining the one whoâd injured him, knocking the man back. He kept going and slammed the weapon into the chest of the third, dropping him on a more permanent basis this time. The other two, however, were still more or less fine.
âChevalier,â one of them noted, the accent perfectly Orlesian. Lucien smiled grimly.
âA votre service, monsieur.â
A total of six highly-proficient foes was perhaps not the best arrangement they could have found themselves in, but at the very least, they need not be concerned with being stabbed in the back. "Cover your nose and mouth,â Rilien said, quietly enough that only Aurora should be able to pick up on it. He did not, however, wait any longer than it took her to do so before reaching down into a pouch at his belt, giving the small packet he withdrew a hard toss. It collided with the chestplate of one of the marines, scattering a small amount of greenish powder, which took a few seconds to disperse. It dropped the one it had hit, and the two immediately nearest looked a bit sluggish, much less steady on their feet than they had been.
With his elbow, he nudged the mage, attempting to rotate them both a quarter-turn, so that at least one for each would not be at his or her best. It should take a little bit of the heat off, at any rate. The rest, theyâd have to do the old-fashioned way, as heâd heard it termed.
Aurora had slipped her scarf over her mouth and nose when Rilien let go of his mixture. At the nudge, her feet danced through the dirt and stopped when both stood side by side, facing down a pair of sluggish marines. "Now?" Aurora asked. Then she was off, dashing toward the man. As she built her momentum, she began to twist as she closed in on the man, turning a complete circle before she used all the momentum she'd gain to launch a spinning kick at the man's shins. With one less leg, the man fell to a knee, and Aurora responded by spinning in the other direction and issuing a heel kick to the side of his head, pushing him the rest of the way over.
No sooner had he been knocked over than the Tranquil finished him off, stabbing downwards with an enchanted blade and puncturing the soft skin of his throat. The next of the sluggish ones, he dodged a poor hit from, but his nearest compatriot was considerably faster, and Rilienâs options came down to taking the hit aimed for him or moving aside and exposing Aurora to it. Given that she was already occupied fending off other things, it was hardly much of a choice, and he moved as well as he could to soften the blow, though he still found himself with a severed leg tendon for his efforts, a hard snap signaling the release of tension in what had once been a very taut connection between knee and ankle. It was incredibly painful, and rendered the leg nearly incapable of supporting his weight, putting him at a severe disadvantage. Rilien managed to bring up his second knife and skewer the spot directly between clavicle and the deltoid muscle above it, but his opponentâs movement stopped him from hitting the much more vital jugular vein heâd been aiming for, and he could only keep his footing with one footâa rather unenviable position.
"Duck," Aurora stated, winding up another kick. This one she aimed as high as she could to pass over Rilien's ducking head, and finishing what he had started. The toes of her boot connected with the side of his face, sliding him off of Rilien's blade and throwing him into the ground. A spurt of blood from the blade's exit arced and spattered both tranquil and mage, lathering them in a dose of crimson. There was no time for Aurora to wipe it from her face before she was accosted from her side. Another marine had approached, sword pulled back for a fatal stab.
Steel plunged forward, and quick reflexes saw that it was Aurora's dragonhide bracer that deflected the blow. She then drew her other fist back, coated in a layer of stoneskin and punched forward, drilling the marine in the belly. She drew it back again to repeat, but this time her arm was caught by the man. With strength greater than hers, he pulled her in, and leveled his head into her face, crushing her nose with his forehead. The blow dazed her and sent her stumbling back into Rilien as the man closed the distance, sword positioned dangerous.
With one hand holding together her broken nose, the other swung across spraying a fine mist of ice, tearing into the man's face and eyes.
Even Rilien almost lost his balance when Aurora fell back into him, given that he was effectively working with one good leg. That did not, however, stop him from taking advantage of the opening presented by her spell, and without hesitation, he let the dagger in his right hand fly. It rotated end-over-end three times before drilling with an inexorable sort of precision into the spot where the human heart lay, puncturing through his armor as only the best-tempered of materials could. That left only the two already dazed by his poison, and between the both of them, those were dispatched without much further incident. A couple of potions fixed his leg, and he handed another of his particularly-potent brews to Aurora.
"I can say from experience that a broken nose never heals quite symmetrically,â he said, laying an index finger along the bridge of his own, which was ever-so-slightly crooked from where Silian had broken it by slamming him into the deck of a boat. "But treating it as quickly as possible helps.â
"Thanks," She said beneath the veil of her hand and downed the potion. The felt the potion work as her nose tingled and tickled across the bridge of her nose. She tenderly removed her hand as it was still sore, but it wasn't pouring the blood that it had been. However, the damage had been done and her face looked like a warzone, spattered with blood that was a mixture of hers and another's, while her hair was a mat of crimson. "Let's hope," She agreed, gingerly testing it with a finger. "Still, Milly's going to throw a fit."
With the adrenaline of the fight pumping through her, the gash on Sophia's side felt like little more than a small cut, and she was inclined to treat it as such for the moment, given that she had two more opponents to deal with. Slightly isolated at the rear of the caravan, it appeared as though she would be on her own for the time being. An unfortunate position to be in, considering that this next wave of opponents seemed to be more skilled and better equipped than the last.
Well, one of them was, anyway. Sophia found herself opposing an axe-and-shield warrior in the black marines armor and hood, a burly man clearly with more outright strength than she possessed. The other was a female rogue, armed with a dagger. It was the same rogue Lucien had afforded the chance to run, though Sophia had no knowledge of this. It was possible that she'd had a change of heart, or that one of the black-clad overlords had forced her back into the fight. Regardless, she had strayed to the rear of the column, and ominously vanished from sight, a sure sign that she would reappear at a very inconvenient moment.
In the meantime, that left the warrior, banging on his shield with the axe in front of him. Sophia was willing to oblige him the fight, darting forward with zigzagging cross steps before she opened up her attack, slamming her blade into his shield. She spun away when the axe came to counterattack; it was she who had the advantage of superior range this time. The warrior, for the most part, made few attempts to strike at her, instead playing defensively and allowing her to wear herself down. Sophia knew the true threat came when the rogue chose to reappear, and so she made sure not to overextend herself on any attacks. It was after the fifth or so battering between Sophia and the shield when she heard the snap behind her, and turned quickly to counter the rogue.
But the rogue was a solid fifteen feet from Sophia, smiling. Too late she tried to turn back around again, only to have a hand axe come down on her. The half spin was enough to let the blow fall on her right collarbone rather than her head, but there was still an alarming spurt of blood and a wracking pain throughout her upper body. The shield came next, slamming into her side and throwing her to the ground on her bad shoulder. The warrior may have thought her finished, as he advanced recklessly within range of her sword. Finished she was not, as he found when she sliced one of his feet clean off, sending him howling to the ground. Blearily she pushed herself over to him and shoved her sword through his bowels.
She was still kneeling when the lady rogue set on her from behind, jamming the dagger into the gap at her side, where the gash already was. At this point pain threatened to overcome adrenaline, but Sophia still managed to spin and swing a mailed elbow into the rogue's temple, knocking her over and removing the knife, blood flowing freely in its absence. In one smooth motion Sophia withdrew Vesenia from the guts of one enemy and brought it whirling down on the next, taking the rogue's head clean off.
Resisting the strangely alluring call to tip over and lie down in the sand, Sophia pressed the hand of her injured arm to the more severely bleeding wound in her side, rummaging through a small, sturdy pouch on her belt, retrieving the largest restorative she had on hand. Popping the flask open with one hand, she leaned back and drank deeply, dropping the container only when it had been drained entirely. She shuddered at the effect, but relief came quickly enough, the potion slowing the bleeding considerably, and restoring her arm to a relative working order. Still, she cradled it tenderly to her chest, not sure she wanted to rise from a kneeling position just yet. A visit to Nostariel's clinic would definitely be in order after this.
Lucien, now unhorsed mostly by his own choiceâhe had no desire to see the creature killed, after allâwasnât exactly faring his best, either. Blood leaked sluggishly from several cuts that had been aimed with precision almost to rival Rilienâs for the joints and weak spots in his armor. Still, he had the advantage of endurance, though heâd not managed to hit his foes quite so many times as theyâd hit him. They moved very well together, almost seamlessly, as people did who had been fighting as a unit for years, if not decades. Heâd dug himself into the sand, forgoing mobility that they could outdo anyway for a certain kind of stubborn rootedness that was proving difficult to contend against. As such, the fight seemed to be at a rather active stalemateâthey were still all three constantly moving, attacking, parrying, slipping away from hits. But each had acquired wounds, and each felt the salty sheen of sweat at their brows, threatening to drip into their eyes.
Frustrated by his armor in most cases, theyâd started aiming mostly for his unprotected face, and one scored a cut against his cheek, deep enough to flay the flesh and scrape the more fragile bone just beneath his eye. It also sliced the eyepatch, which fell to his feet. The temporary blurring of his vision was all the other needed to get in too close, secreting a dagger into a joint of armor at his torso, sinking the knife in deep. He felt the surrounding muscles go numb almost immediatelyâsomehow, he hadnât been suspecting poison. Foolish; why would they forego the advantage?
He was forced to shift his balance, taking most of the weight of his axe in one hand rather than two, though he chose to thrust it forward like a sword rather than chop, and the oddity of the move caught the one on the left off-guard, slamming into his stomach and knocking him backwards into the sand. The hood flew off his faceâpale blue eyes and almost equally-pale blond hair. He looked startled for a moment before his face twisted into a snarl, and he regained his feet, aided by his partner, from behind whose hood peeked hairs of a similar color. The chevalierâs eyes narrowedâwas it really possible thatâŠ? It sounded like something out of a story, but perhaps he was being reminded in the most unfortunate way that even the stories tended to have a grain of truth to them.
The woman, setting the man on his feet, threw back her hood also, and he was startled by the obvious resemblance. They werenât just siblingsâthey were twins. Suddenly, a lot of the things Le Renard had pulled off according to the mythos surrounding the figure made a lot more sense. He wondered if perhaps Laurent hadnât been close to discovering this, and that had been what did him in. The knowledge that the authorities should be looking for not one, but two people would effectively end a major advantage to the operation. But why frame him?
It was a question that there was time neither to ask nor answer. Both twins surged forward, and he was back again to beating off furious attacks, only this time with a half-useless arm. Still, they were getting tired faster than he was, what with all the acrobatics and dodging they were doing, and it exacerbated their bleeding, which on the man had become rather profuse. It was he Lucien caught with the axe, swinging sideways with his whole body and catching him in the temple with the flat of it. The man crumpled, but Lucienâs shaking arm lost its grip on his weapon, and it went flying off to the side, thankfully well away from any of his allies.
Watching her brother fall, the woman snarled, taking up his knife and coming at the knight with both, forcing even him to take several steps backwards as he blocked largely with his gauntlet. Without an implement, he had to change his strategy, resorting to the strength his hands, or rather hand could give him. Well⊠and a few other body parts as well. When one swing came in for him, he grabbed the offending wrist, breaking his own guard and allowing the second knife to find a home in his abdomen, sneaking under the bottom of his chestplate and between the rings of his mail. That close though, there was no avoiding him, and he cracked the hardest part of his head into one of the softest parts of hers. If the ringing in his ears was any indication, she wasnât doing well either, and indeed, she swayed dangerously on her feet. Slightly slower than he would have liked, Lucien brought a knee up into her gut, doubling her over and releasing her wrist to slam the elbow of his good arm down on the back of her head. She fell, and he staggered, but remained standing.
He now had two knives still in his person, which was actually fortunate, because they were stemming the bleeding. The edges of his vision blurred, and it had nothing to do with the fact that his bad eye was exposed, either. Mostly, he suspected it was a mix of poison and blood loss. The most dramatic-looking wound was the one that poured blood down the side of his face, but it was far from the worst. He had to make sure his friends were all rightâ
Lucien had to fight not to choke when he noted Sophiaâs conditionâand the identity of one of her felled foes. Liliane and Violette were battered, but mostly intact. The latter handed him a curative, and he held the neck of the bottle between his teeth while he extracted the knives from his person, then downed it as quickly as he was able. Rilien and Aurora were alive as well, and all of the raiders were dead or still. It seemed that all that was left was to get everyone as patched up as they could hereâand then get some answers.
The horse upon which Lucien was mounted danced to the side just in time to avoid the thrust of a dagger from a rapidly-materializing rogue. Heâd never understand how they managed to conceal themselves in plain sight like thatâit wasnât classified as magic, but it was nothing that he could do, certainly. The element of surprise ruined, the woman wisely attempted to put space between herself and the heavily-armored knight on a large equine, only to be stopped by the sweeping action of Lucienâs poleax. He still hadnât replaced the one that had broken in the Deep Roadsâthis one was a loan from one of his future employees, and rather ideal for wielding from this high off the ground. Her legs pulled out from underneath her, she fell to the ground on her back, the spear-point of the weapon resting an inch from her poorly-protected throat.
âLeave, please,â Lucien said, about as kindly as one could manage from such a menacing position. The woman was brunette, and so while it was possible that their target had since run a dye through her hair, he thought it unlikely. He was actually mildly surprised when she nodded, and withdrew the blade far enough to let her up. She looked incredulously at him for a moment, and he shrugged. He wasnât willing to give this up, no matter how many times it came back to bite him. Thankfully, she actually left.
He was not so lucky the second time, and this time faced down two more, these a little better-prepared. One of them managed to catch him a hit on the side with a rough-looking mace, which, while not swung with enough force to break a rib, would likely produce a large circular bruise, armor or no. That one took the butt end of the implement to the temple, with enough force to crack his cranium, and in the same general motion, the axe-end bit into the shoulder of the other a second before he was able to wound the horse. This gave him a moment to glance back at the restâeveryone was engaged with someone else, and it was readily apparent that though his friends were skilled, this gang was much moreso than the average such group. They moved like real assassins, light on their feet, unhesitating in their ability to flicker in and out of visibility. Violette wore her usual slight battle-smile, an expression in truth rather mirthless, and Lilianeâs face was set into a deep scowl, but both worked through their foes with skill and precision.
He saw no heads of blonde hair save those belonging to Sophia and the younger Routhier.
Sophia had Vesenia drawn the moment she spied the first of the attackers assailing Lucien at the head of the column. They came upon them quickly, and viciously. Expecting a similar attack on her own sides, Sophia glanced left and right, hastily unfastening her hooded cloak with her left hand while her right gripped her sword. The attack, however, came from in front of her, by a crafty rogue who brought a spear of all things. Rather than strike directly at her, he went for her horse instead, the mount the Coterie had provided for the caravan. The blade stuck in the upper chest dangerously near the throat, and her mount immediately panicked at the sudden threat, rearing up on his hind legs. The spearmen pressed the advantage, digging heels into the sand and pushing the spear higher up.
The Viscount's daughter was barely able to get her leg out of the way of being crushed by the falling horse before the ground came up to meet them, greeting her with a painful slam to her side. She rolled over onto her back as the horse clambered to his feet again, eager to leave the sudden battleground behind. The spearman was on Sophia in a hurry, but she'd expected as much, and had her blade ready in time to deflect his attack before he could bury the spear in her belly. She landed a pair of kicks next, the first to the side of his knee to knock him off balance, the second more of a shove than anything, to give her time to make the fight even.
As he stumbled back a few paces Sophia rolled out of the cloak and spun onto her feet, armor glittering in the sun. By the time she'd set her feet, the spearman was attacking again. She had expected him to drop the weapon when it came to a duel; he wore a shortsword at his hip, a more common choice in single combat, but she soon learned that he remained with the spear for good reason. He was skilled in its use, fast and precise strikes accompanied by expert footwork. He darted left and right and back, keeping out of even Vesenia's long reach, all the while forcing Sophia to stay on her own guard, lest she be caught in an overzealous attack. One such maneuver left her with a relatively minor gash to her side, a thin trail of red running down her mail.
He wasn't perfect, though. Sophia proved that with a somewhat unorthodox tactic. A feigned attempt to swipe away his guard and charge forward was responded with the expected thrust and withdraw, but this time Sophia took a hand off her sword, reaching to grab the spear by the haft, her grip just beyond the blade itself. He refused to part with the weapon, so she pulled him into her range with it, drawing her sword across her body and swinging in a broad arc as the spearman came lurching forward, slicing open his chest and sending him spinning to the ground.
The moment heâd heard the unlikely sound, Rilien rolled sideways off the cart, hitting the sand with no sound audible over the general shouting and clanging that was the ambush getting underway. The slight whistle of a blade cutting through air was his only warning, and the Tranquil bent backwards, the shortsword, slicing a few hairs from his fringe but otherwise leaving him unscathed. The mercenary who leveled the attack clearly had not expected the dodge, and overbalanced, allowing the elf to drive one of his own daggers down into the back of his neck in a smooth motion that ended his life with the sort of callus efficiency that commonly characterized him.
The second attacker was more prepared, and swiped the first of a pair of axes for Rilienâs midsection, forcing him to dodge backwards and put his back to the cart itself. The second thudded into the wooden side of the thing inches from his eye, and Rilien ducked low, scooping a stone from the ground with his free hand and giving it a hard toss into the cart-horseâs flank, causing the creature to bolt forwards, freeing up his back. Drawing his other dagger, Rilien took a pair of steps backwards, shoring himself up with Aurora, their current foes readjusting to the new situation by backing off and circling a bit, clearly trying to decide how best to coordinate, now that their opponents were two rather than one.
Rilien was a little surprised by the flicker of amusement that passed through him, then, just a touch in the back of his head that never made it to his face. Such oddities were becoming more commonplace, now, but he was still hardly accustomed to them. "Shall we?â he asked of her, as deadpan as ever.
The whinnying of a spooked horse and the clang of metal alerted Aurora that the ambush had began. She sprang to her feet at the helm of the cart, just in time to witness an assassin slip into view at her immediate side. With Rilien since dismounting the cart, it left her room to take a step back and avoid the shortsword aimed at her thighs. A quick reaction and slide of her leg held the assassin's blade between the sole of her boot and the wood of the cart. She then reared back her other and issued a vicious kick toward the head of the assassin, only for it to sail harmlessly through the empty space where he was, materializing out of sight and leaving his blade behind. Aurora winced and grunted from the whiff, and kicked the blade further into the car, ensuring that it wouldn't come back to haunt her.
Out of her peripherals, she saw as another effortlessly made his way to the back of the cart, and Aurora turned to meet him. She stepped over the helm and onto the back of the cart proper, stepping over the objects that filled it to make it seem like they were carrying something. The assassin was first to strike, stabbing ahead with his dagger in a reverse grip. Aurora countered by pressing a palm against his forearm and threw a punch at him, aiming for the solar plexus. While the hit did connect, it wouldn't matter as her balance was shot when the cart charged ahead, causing both the assassin and Aurora to jerk backward and fall off. However, it did leave Aurora with the better position, as she straddled the assassin who lay prone on his back. She took advantage, and attempted the punch again, this time proving far more effective. She followed it with another pair just to be sure.
As she stood, she felt something brush against her back. The sight of alabaster hair stayed her hand and pushed her eyes forward, acknowledging it was Rilien. "Better than waiting," She agreed, throwing her dusty cloak over her shoulders.
It was at this point that the group was set upon by a fresh wave of fighters, these ones assuredly professional, all cloaked and hooded in uniform black, wearing the crest of a red fox-head emblazoned on the back of these. They were also dressed in the manner of marine soldiers, though not of any standard army; much of their equipment was well-waterproofed, and even the cloaks had a slick sort of shine to them, indicating a treatment made to keep water from soaking into the fabric. The fact that all of them were dressed the same way, including the hoods, made it very difficult to tell if the actual target was among them, but Lucien would give his right arm if these werenât actual members of the pirateâs crew. They were simply too well-equipped to be mere hired diversions. There were ten in total, augmenting the numbers already present as whomever was leading them chose to commit to the engagement, rather than cutting and running when the others startedâslowly, but surelyâto fall. It was an indication that the leader believed these ten would be sufficient to deal with the caravan guard, even knowing they were probably not the usual Coterie fare.
The tactical implications of this, however, would have to wait for later. Lucien found himself with no less than three to deal with on his own, another one went for Liliane and one for Violette. Sophia was in the unfortunate position of being unhorsed, injured and now in the company of two, and the other three joined with the three others still circling Rilien and Aurora.
Releasing his reins, Lucien let the trained warhorse have her head, unsurprised when her first instinct was to kick back at the one trying to flank them. Her hoof caught the manâs jaw, knocking him, at least for now, to the ground. The other two scissored in as a unit, and he chose to let the left one go as he went for the right one, swinging not with the axehead, but the butt end of the weapon. He missed her jaw, which heâd been aiming for, and hit her shoulder instead. The other one found a joint in his armor when he wasnât looking, and Lucien grunted as a red line welled up on his side. Shifting his feet, he tapped the horseâs flank, causing her to rear on command, which at least succeeded in backing them off. Another tap elsewhere whirled her around, and he held his axe steadily vertical, effectively clotheslining the one whoâd injured him, knocking the man back. He kept going and slammed the weapon into the chest of the third, dropping him on a more permanent basis this time. The other two, however, were still more or less fine.
âChevalier,â one of them noted, the accent perfectly Orlesian. Lucien smiled grimly.
âA votre service, monsieur.â
A total of six highly-proficient foes was perhaps not the best arrangement they could have found themselves in, but at the very least, they need not be concerned with being stabbed in the back. "Cover your nose and mouth,â Rilien said, quietly enough that only Aurora should be able to pick up on it. He did not, however, wait any longer than it took her to do so before reaching down into a pouch at his belt, giving the small packet he withdrew a hard toss. It collided with the chestplate of one of the marines, scattering a small amount of greenish powder, which took a few seconds to disperse. It dropped the one it had hit, and the two immediately nearest looked a bit sluggish, much less steady on their feet than they had been.
With his elbow, he nudged the mage, attempting to rotate them both a quarter-turn, so that at least one for each would not be at his or her best. It should take a little bit of the heat off, at any rate. The rest, theyâd have to do the old-fashioned way, as heâd heard it termed.
Aurora had slipped her scarf over her mouth and nose when Rilien let go of his mixture. At the nudge, her feet danced through the dirt and stopped when both stood side by side, facing down a pair of sluggish marines. "Now?" Aurora asked. Then she was off, dashing toward the man. As she built her momentum, she began to twist as she closed in on the man, turning a complete circle before she used all the momentum she'd gain to launch a spinning kick at the man's shins. With one less leg, the man fell to a knee, and Aurora responded by spinning in the other direction and issuing a heel kick to the side of his head, pushing him the rest of the way over.
No sooner had he been knocked over than the Tranquil finished him off, stabbing downwards with an enchanted blade and puncturing the soft skin of his throat. The next of the sluggish ones, he dodged a poor hit from, but his nearest compatriot was considerably faster, and Rilienâs options came down to taking the hit aimed for him or moving aside and exposing Aurora to it. Given that she was already occupied fending off other things, it was hardly much of a choice, and he moved as well as he could to soften the blow, though he still found himself with a severed leg tendon for his efforts, a hard snap signaling the release of tension in what had once been a very taut connection between knee and ankle. It was incredibly painful, and rendered the leg nearly incapable of supporting his weight, putting him at a severe disadvantage. Rilien managed to bring up his second knife and skewer the spot directly between clavicle and the deltoid muscle above it, but his opponentâs movement stopped him from hitting the much more vital jugular vein heâd been aiming for, and he could only keep his footing with one footâa rather unenviable position.
"Duck," Aurora stated, winding up another kick. This one she aimed as high as she could to pass over Rilien's ducking head, and finishing what he had started. The toes of her boot connected with the side of his face, sliding him off of Rilien's blade and throwing him into the ground. A spurt of blood from the blade's exit arced and spattered both tranquil and mage, lathering them in a dose of crimson. There was no time for Aurora to wipe it from her face before she was accosted from her side. Another marine had approached, sword pulled back for a fatal stab.
Steel plunged forward, and quick reflexes saw that it was Aurora's dragonhide bracer that deflected the blow. She then drew her other fist back, coated in a layer of stoneskin and punched forward, drilling the marine in the belly. She drew it back again to repeat, but this time her arm was caught by the man. With strength greater than hers, he pulled her in, and leveled his head into her face, crushing her nose with his forehead. The blow dazed her and sent her stumbling back into Rilien as the man closed the distance, sword positioned dangerous.
With one hand holding together her broken nose, the other swung across spraying a fine mist of ice, tearing into the man's face and eyes.
Even Rilien almost lost his balance when Aurora fell back into him, given that he was effectively working with one good leg. That did not, however, stop him from taking advantage of the opening presented by her spell, and without hesitation, he let the dagger in his right hand fly. It rotated end-over-end three times before drilling with an inexorable sort of precision into the spot where the human heart lay, puncturing through his armor as only the best-tempered of materials could. That left only the two already dazed by his poison, and between the both of them, those were dispatched without much further incident. A couple of potions fixed his leg, and he handed another of his particularly-potent brews to Aurora.
"I can say from experience that a broken nose never heals quite symmetrically,â he said, laying an index finger along the bridge of his own, which was ever-so-slightly crooked from where Silian had broken it by slamming him into the deck of a boat. "But treating it as quickly as possible helps.â
"Thanks," She said beneath the veil of her hand and downed the potion. The felt the potion work as her nose tingled and tickled across the bridge of her nose. She tenderly removed her hand as it was still sore, but it wasn't pouring the blood that it had been. However, the damage had been done and her face looked like a warzone, spattered with blood that was a mixture of hers and another's, while her hair was a mat of crimson. "Let's hope," She agreed, gingerly testing it with a finger. "Still, Milly's going to throw a fit."
With the adrenaline of the fight pumping through her, the gash on Sophia's side felt like little more than a small cut, and she was inclined to treat it as such for the moment, given that she had two more opponents to deal with. Slightly isolated at the rear of the caravan, it appeared as though she would be on her own for the time being. An unfortunate position to be in, considering that this next wave of opponents seemed to be more skilled and better equipped than the last.
Well, one of them was, anyway. Sophia found herself opposing an axe-and-shield warrior in the black marines armor and hood, a burly man clearly with more outright strength than she possessed. The other was a female rogue, armed with a dagger. It was the same rogue Lucien had afforded the chance to run, though Sophia had no knowledge of this. It was possible that she'd had a change of heart, or that one of the black-clad overlords had forced her back into the fight. Regardless, she had strayed to the rear of the column, and ominously vanished from sight, a sure sign that she would reappear at a very inconvenient moment.
In the meantime, that left the warrior, banging on his shield with the axe in front of him. Sophia was willing to oblige him the fight, darting forward with zigzagging cross steps before she opened up her attack, slamming her blade into his shield. She spun away when the axe came to counterattack; it was she who had the advantage of superior range this time. The warrior, for the most part, made few attempts to strike at her, instead playing defensively and allowing her to wear herself down. Sophia knew the true threat came when the rogue chose to reappear, and so she made sure not to overextend herself on any attacks. It was after the fifth or so battering between Sophia and the shield when she heard the snap behind her, and turned quickly to counter the rogue.
But the rogue was a solid fifteen feet from Sophia, smiling. Too late she tried to turn back around again, only to have a hand axe come down on her. The half spin was enough to let the blow fall on her right collarbone rather than her head, but there was still an alarming spurt of blood and a wracking pain throughout her upper body. The shield came next, slamming into her side and throwing her to the ground on her bad shoulder. The warrior may have thought her finished, as he advanced recklessly within range of her sword. Finished she was not, as he found when she sliced one of his feet clean off, sending him howling to the ground. Blearily she pushed herself over to him and shoved her sword through his bowels.
She was still kneeling when the lady rogue set on her from behind, jamming the dagger into the gap at her side, where the gash already was. At this point pain threatened to overcome adrenaline, but Sophia still managed to spin and swing a mailed elbow into the rogue's temple, knocking her over and removing the knife, blood flowing freely in its absence. In one smooth motion Sophia withdrew Vesenia from the guts of one enemy and brought it whirling down on the next, taking the rogue's head clean off.
Resisting the strangely alluring call to tip over and lie down in the sand, Sophia pressed the hand of her injured arm to the more severely bleeding wound in her side, rummaging through a small, sturdy pouch on her belt, retrieving the largest restorative she had on hand. Popping the flask open with one hand, she leaned back and drank deeply, dropping the container only when it had been drained entirely. She shuddered at the effect, but relief came quickly enough, the potion slowing the bleeding considerably, and restoring her arm to a relative working order. Still, she cradled it tenderly to her chest, not sure she wanted to rise from a kneeling position just yet. A visit to Nostariel's clinic would definitely be in order after this.
Lucien, now unhorsed mostly by his own choiceâhe had no desire to see the creature killed, after allâwasnât exactly faring his best, either. Blood leaked sluggishly from several cuts that had been aimed with precision almost to rival Rilienâs for the joints and weak spots in his armor. Still, he had the advantage of endurance, though heâd not managed to hit his foes quite so many times as theyâd hit him. They moved very well together, almost seamlessly, as people did who had been fighting as a unit for years, if not decades. Heâd dug himself into the sand, forgoing mobility that they could outdo anyway for a certain kind of stubborn rootedness that was proving difficult to contend against. As such, the fight seemed to be at a rather active stalemateâthey were still all three constantly moving, attacking, parrying, slipping away from hits. But each had acquired wounds, and each felt the salty sheen of sweat at their brows, threatening to drip into their eyes.
Frustrated by his armor in most cases, theyâd started aiming mostly for his unprotected face, and one scored a cut against his cheek, deep enough to flay the flesh and scrape the more fragile bone just beneath his eye. It also sliced the eyepatch, which fell to his feet. The temporary blurring of his vision was all the other needed to get in too close, secreting a dagger into a joint of armor at his torso, sinking the knife in deep. He felt the surrounding muscles go numb almost immediatelyâsomehow, he hadnât been suspecting poison. Foolish; why would they forego the advantage?
He was forced to shift his balance, taking most of the weight of his axe in one hand rather than two, though he chose to thrust it forward like a sword rather than chop, and the oddity of the move caught the one on the left off-guard, slamming into his stomach and knocking him backwards into the sand. The hood flew off his faceâpale blue eyes and almost equally-pale blond hair. He looked startled for a moment before his face twisted into a snarl, and he regained his feet, aided by his partner, from behind whose hood peeked hairs of a similar color. The chevalierâs eyes narrowedâwas it really possible thatâŠ? It sounded like something out of a story, but perhaps he was being reminded in the most unfortunate way that even the stories tended to have a grain of truth to them.
The woman, setting the man on his feet, threw back her hood also, and he was startled by the obvious resemblance. They werenât just siblingsâthey were twins. Suddenly, a lot of the things Le Renard had pulled off according to the mythos surrounding the figure made a lot more sense. He wondered if perhaps Laurent hadnât been close to discovering this, and that had been what did him in. The knowledge that the authorities should be looking for not one, but two people would effectively end a major advantage to the operation. But why frame him?
It was a question that there was time neither to ask nor answer. Both twins surged forward, and he was back again to beating off furious attacks, only this time with a half-useless arm. Still, they were getting tired faster than he was, what with all the acrobatics and dodging they were doing, and it exacerbated their bleeding, which on the man had become rather profuse. It was he Lucien caught with the axe, swinging sideways with his whole body and catching him in the temple with the flat of it. The man crumpled, but Lucienâs shaking arm lost its grip on his weapon, and it went flying off to the side, thankfully well away from any of his allies.
Watching her brother fall, the woman snarled, taking up his knife and coming at the knight with both, forcing even him to take several steps backwards as he blocked largely with his gauntlet. Without an implement, he had to change his strategy, resorting to the strength his hands, or rather hand could give him. Well⊠and a few other body parts as well. When one swing came in for him, he grabbed the offending wrist, breaking his own guard and allowing the second knife to find a home in his abdomen, sneaking under the bottom of his chestplate and between the rings of his mail. That close though, there was no avoiding him, and he cracked the hardest part of his head into one of the softest parts of hers. If the ringing in his ears was any indication, she wasnât doing well either, and indeed, she swayed dangerously on her feet. Slightly slower than he would have liked, Lucien brought a knee up into her gut, doubling her over and releasing her wrist to slam the elbow of his good arm down on the back of her head. She fell, and he staggered, but remained standing.
He now had two knives still in his person, which was actually fortunate, because they were stemming the bleeding. The edges of his vision blurred, and it had nothing to do with the fact that his bad eye was exposed, either. Mostly, he suspected it was a mix of poison and blood loss. The most dramatic-looking wound was the one that poured blood down the side of his face, but it was far from the worst. He had to make sure his friends were all rightâ
Lucien had to fight not to choke when he noted Sophiaâs conditionâand the identity of one of her felled foes. Liliane and Violette were battered, but mostly intact. The latter handed him a curative, and he held the neck of the bottle between his teeth while he extracted the knives from his person, then downed it as quickly as he was able. Rilien and Aurora were alive as well, and all of the raiders were dead or still. It seemed that all that was left was to get everyone as patched up as they could hereâand then get some answers.