âBlackmail. Itâs just like being home, really.â Lucien sighed, giving a shake of his head. âA rather indirect way to do it though; Iâm supposing this person doesnât have much experience trying to extort people, or perhaps just lacks the agents to make a more direct delivery.â It was a clumsy attempt, reallyâan amateur one if he had his guess. It was much smarter to make a demand away from as many eyes as possible, which this clearly was not, left in the open as it was. Also to make it more with implication than direct statement, so as to be able to deny that it was blackmail at all.
But then, the request to meet wasnât normal either. And the initial⊠âAshton⊠you wouldnât know what happened to your⊠acquaintance Garrath after we last encountered him, would you?â It made senseâhe had the information, the active disagreement with Ashton, and was shady enough to prefer an inactive guard to an effective one.
"No... But I think we do now," he answered. It made sense, and Ashton was beginning to suspect something of the sort, but he never could get concrete evidence. Only an initial and the common theme of smuggling. He sighed through his nose and shook his head. He had hoped he'd put all of that behind him, and now here a loose end was trying to pull him back. "He's a smuggler. He smuggles, though obviously on much larger scale now. He must have taken Leech's place when we dealt with him."
Sophia wasn't all too surprised to learn of a less than reputable background for Ashton. Maybe she hadn't seen it at the time, as fresh as she'd been when she met him, but looking back... he'd always played the part of the rogue, and he was a man with too many skills for the job he formerly held. Thus his connection to a criminal element did not shock Sophia, nor did the way it was currently returning to be a nuisance. The past had a way of doing so. She didn't particularly care; he was the guard captain now, and an excellent one. His experience with smuggling likely gave him an edge in that regard. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened.
âFunny how thereâs always another to fill a gap, isnât it?â Lucienâs tone was dry, and he sighed softly. He was certainly a big believer in creating those gaps anyway, of course, but sometimes, even he had to acknowledge that they were often as not creating more work for themselves by doing so. âHow would you like to handle this?â
The rest of the guards within the hovel seemed to take the fact that Ashton had a less than stellar past in stride. In fact, they seemed utterly unsurprised, even the youngest among them. He'd likely already revealed that he'd been a smuggler once. It was better to reveal the secret himself sooner than to find out later from someone else, and lose the trust he'd earned with his men. Ashton tilted his head toward Vesper and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the splotch of crimson on her armor. "Still good to fight?" He asked. His answered was an offended glare and a blunt answer, "Of course Captain."
The guard clutching his arm also straightened and nodded, "Me too, Ser," Ashton smiled and chuckled to himself, and turned to look at Sophia. "Soft, huh?" He looked back toward the guardsman and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't doubt it, but you've got a more important job. Get better. Go to the clinic and let Nos see that arm. Oh, and tell her I'll be home late," he said with a smile, though it appeared some air was let out of the guardsman. "That's an order, now git."
The guardsman nodded, and saluted the best that he could and took his leave. As he watched him exit, Ashton continued to give orders. "Sergeant," he said to remaining guard, "you remain here with the two outside and start the clean up, I'll send more to help when we return to the Keep. Vesper, you come with us to the barracks, and we'll get a plan together to deal with this old friend of mine. Understood?" He asked, to salutes of his guardsmen. Nodded, he turned back to Sophia and Lucien and tilted his head toward the door. "Shall we?"
Darktown was, as the name implied, dark, especially at night. Lanterns lining the streets were enough to let them see where they were going, but it still left a feeling that they were being watched. Ashton simply brushed it off, acknowledging that they probably were and accepted it. He and Vesper had led the small procession through the dusty streets, until he asked them to hold. They waited in a divot in the road, with stairs leading upward in front and behind them. "This is the place," Ashton said, referring to the location hashed out on the back of the letter they'd found.
"Shield up," Ashton ordered, taking a step behind Vesper so that she could guard both herself and him. "Hiding behind a lady, Captain?' Vesper teased. Ashton drew his bow and fitted and arrow in the nock and leaned toward the side of her in which she held the shield. "You're hardly a lady Lieutenant and you have to get paid for something," he replied with a chuckle. "Eyes up, and keep your wits about you," he told the others.
âWhy?â Lucien pretended to wonder. âI mean, it isnât as though this is obviously a trap. You really should have more faith in people who write mysterious blackmail letters, Ashton.â His hand was already over his shoulder, lightly resting on Everburnâs hilt.
"It wouldn't be a trip to Darktown without the threat of a deadly ambush," Sophia commented, trying to keep her eyes where most of the others were not looking. Criminals knew this place well, far better than the guard or the Templars or anyone else did, and it had a way of changing quite quickly over time. Sophia was a step ahead of Lucien, already having Vesenia drawn, its point resting lightly against the ground, hands atop the pommel. Her stance was relaxed, but clearly ready to move.
They needn't wait long before muffled footsteps rose up over the quiet Darktown night. Ashton's bowstring went taut as he drew the arrow, and likewise Vesper readjusted her grip on her shield. The footsteps not only came from the flight of stairs to their front, but from behind them also. It wasn't a surprise, as they had all already decided it was a trap. Forms stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light cast by a nearby lantern. The men bore the same finely made armor and weaponry as before. A number of them stood both atop the flight of stairs to their front and their back, effectively trapping them in. "Utterly shocking," Ashton muttered under his breath.
"What? Did you expect anything less?" A voice asked from behind a wall of three shield bearing thugs. "Garrath," Ashton alerted the others. He'd brought his bow up, but the armor of the thugs prevented him from finding a clear shot. "Ah, so the good captain does remember his friends. That's good, I was afraid you may have forgotten about me," he said from in the midst of his armored entourage.
"Not quite, poke your head out so I can see your pretty face again," Ashton said, to Garrath's laughter. He couldn't find fault in the man for hiding behind the shields of his lackeys however, as that was exactly what he was doing with Vesper.
"Now, now Ash, the only thing I want to do right now is have a nice civil discussion. These friends of mine are only here to ensure that we have that. Perhaps we can come to a gentleman's agreement?" Garrath said, leaving Ashton to sigh loudly. "All I really want is you to leave me and my operations alone."
A moment passed in silence before Ashton responded. "Really? Just leave you and your men alone to keep smuggling weapons into Kirkwall? Is that all?" Ashton asked, the sarcasm positively dripping from his voice. "Are you going to say please too?"
"No, but perhaps we can hash out a deal. You allow my operations to continue uninterrupted, and I will give you twenty percent of the profits. Oh, and I'll make sure that word doesn't get out that the good captain used to be a smuggler and slaver," Garrath continued.
Another moment passed, Ashton having twitched at being called a slaver. Even he hadn't expected Garrath to go for such a low blow. "Slaver huh? We both know that's not true."
"Maybe, but the common folk don't know that. All it takes is a little doubt for people to start asking questions. If someone was to dig a little deeper, who knows what they'd find?" Ashton could hear the smugness in Garrath's voice, and for him that was the most irritating part. "Or, we could pick the second option, which hurts a lot more than the first."
"Or we could pick the third one. I drag your ass back to the Gallows and let you rot there. I think I like that one better," Ashton said evenly.
It didn't do much to help the smugness in Garrath's voice, "I thought you might have said something along those lines. Very well, but remember you chose this. I had really hoped we could've worked together again." With that, a shrill whistle echoed into the night, a clear signal of sorts.
A few seconds passed... And nothing happened. Garrath whistled again with the same effect. Nothing. There was confusion among Garrath's thugs, as the trap that was supposed to come never did. Then Ashton laughed, silencing them all. "Personally, I'm tired of falling into traps all the time. So I decided that it was time to spring my own," Ashton said, issuing his own signal in the form of a bird call. Silently, two pairs of forms appeared in the lights atop the walls on either side of the divot. They wore black leathers with their heads covered in a black cloth. The only other color they wore were the crimson scarves they wore, denoting them as part of the city guard. In their hands, weapons dripped with what had to be blood.
"I always was the smarter one, remember? Lucien, care to do the honors?"
Since he really doubted Ashton had sprung this trap just to have it out in melee anyway, Lucien decided that âthe honorsâ probably referred to the next stage of negotiations. Because it didnât hurt to make the terms as obvious as possible, he slid Everburn from its sheath, the bladeâs enchantment flaring for a moment before subsiding. Setting the thing casually over his shoulder, the mercenary commander spoke slowly and evenly.
âYouâre all outmaneuvered and, if youâll permit me the presumption to say so, considerably outclassed.â He spoke to the men rather than their leader, whose personal grudge would make talking him down much more difficult if he still believed his people were on his side. âMost of you donât really fight for a living. I expect you know a thing or two about those swords and shields, but usually just showing them off a little is enough to accomplish what you want to do, and thatâs a decent thing.â It might be the only decent thing about some of them, but heâd take what he could get.
âSome of you are just trying to feed your families or your parents. Some of you have never killed a man before. Seems youâve got two choices, then: surrender quietly, and those families donât lose you, and you donât have to kill anyone today. Your employer here wonât be able to hurt you for choosing to do the right thing; the Guard will make sure of that. Choose to fight⊠and I canât make any promises about what things will look like when itâs over. The choice is yours.â
"I'd listen to him if I were you," Sophia added, holding her sword somewhat casually and eyeing the thugs with little concern. Fancy equipment did not make them soldiers, and even before Ashton's impressive counter-trap maneuver she'd been confident that they could take them. "Lay down your arms and this will be much less unpleasant for all of us."
An arrow struck the stone in front of the first thug as an early warning, and the guards atop the walls made the first sounds they had all night as they wiped the blood off of their weapons. It was all very theatrical, and that was the point. Ashton hoped the astounding show of force would cower at least a few of the thugs, and he was not disappointed. A shield or two flagged and metal clattered behind them as swords were dropped. Garrath snarled in response, "Kill them, and I'll make sure you all are paid handsomely."
The offer was enough to entice more than a few of Garrath's thugs, but a couple had decided to take Lucien's offer and backed away, discarding the weapons in their hands. In total, about eight had decided the risk was worth it, four to their front and four to their back. It was when one of the sensible few broke rank that Ashton finally saw Garrath's scarred face, and he didn't waste the opportunity. An arrow was in the air and a cry of pain rang out above the din of steel being readied as it struck Garrath's shoulder. Hard footsteps followed marking his quick exit. Ashton nodded at the two guards atop the closest wall and they left as quietly as they came, off to attend Ashton's unspoken order.
The other pair on the opposite wall patiently waited for their moment to strike, as the thugs began to close in on Ashton and his companions. "Alive, if you can," Ashton asked politely, firing off another arrow at the exposed shin of a shield bearer. "Amateur," Vesper mocked under her breath.
Lucien nodded once in acknowledgement of Ashtonâs desire to take the fighters alive, and removed Everburn from his shoulder, choosing to turn around and take on the four behind. One of the other guards moved with him, a young lady wearing a corporalâs stripes and bearing a smaller shield than Vesper, a shortaxe in her other hand. She gestured wryly for him to precede her, and he smiled slightly, electing to do just that.
He wasnât so reckless as to bull-rush, exactly, but he did choose to confront Garrathâs employees head-on, and the flat of Everburnâs broad blade left an angry red welt on the temple of the first to come forward and meet him, reeling him backwards and leaving him open to a second blow in the same spot, this time from the pommel. He heard a slight crack, but heâd measured the hit as well as he could, so it shouldnât do any permanent damage. It was sufficient to drop the man, though, and Lucien swung in a broad horizontal arc for the other three, scattering them just enough that their tight cluster formation broke.
This enabled his partner to cut one off from the rest, and he left her to it to deal with the other two. One was holding twin daggers, and the other bore a rapier, a much lighter, faster weapon than his own. It was also, however, inferior in terms of reach. He went for the duelist first, juggling her at mid range rather than letting her get up close. She was faster than heâd expected, and surprisingly light on her feet, but her face made it clear enough that she was scared of him, and her fear kept her from getting anywhere close enough to damage him. In the end, he brought her down with a double maneuver: first a hit to her shoulder, drawing a line of blood, and then with a cut to her hamstring, which hobbled her and sent her tumbling forward. She caught herself with her hands, but if she couldnât get up, she couldnât worry him, and so he left matters there, trying to figure out where the other one had gotten to.
It was a shadow in his peripheral vision that alerted him in time to the fact that he was being snuck up on. He moved aside in just enough time to avoid the first knife, which seemed to have been aimed for the base of his spine, but the other one caught him higher, sliding into one of the shoulder joints of his armor. The chain stopped it from doing too much damage, but it did leave a small gouge there, and Lucien drove his elbow back into the rogueâs face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch, and following up by wrapping an arm around his neck from behind, pulling him into a sleeper hold. Less risk of accidentally killing him than just repeatedly hitting him on the head, and when he went slack, Lucien set him down carefully. The guardswoman had just bashed her shield into her foeâs face, and when he fell, she leveled her axe for his neck to keep him in place, one foot on his chest.
Sophia took the opposite side from Lucien, guarding their rear with a heavily armored guardsman armed with a mace and a thick shield. Garrath's thugs on this side were aggressive, and Sophia hardly needed to step forward to engage them. The first rushed her with a fine battle-axe, but probably heavier than he should have been wielding, and Sophia dodged the first downward strike easily, retaliating with a sharp elbow to the jaw, followed by a deep slash of her sword across the back of his leg, sending him howling into a wall, where the guardsmen slammed into him with his shield.
The next tried to bowl Sophia straight over with his shoulder, a move she'd been hit by in the past when she was caught unwary. This time, however, she got low enough to come out of the collision more effectively. Her own shoulder caught him near waist level, flipping him foward onto her back, where she then heaved him over herself, upending him and landing him on his back. A third came at her next, forcing her to parry where she stood, their blades locking for a moment.
The thug on the ground took the opportunity to jab his short blade upwards, finding a spot of leather armor on Sophia's right side to bite through, the shallow stab wound distracting her from the foe in front of her as well to tip the scales. Fortunately, the shield-carrying guard made a charge directly into him, taking him entirely off his feet. Sophia didn't want to see what happened to him, instead withdrawing enough to get away from the sword, before she grabbed hold of the wrist reaching up, and wrenched it until it broke. A swift kick to the man's face shattered his nose and sent a sheet of blood flowing out, more than enough to subdue him for the rest of the fight.
As expected, the melee was over within moments. Ashton straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, shaking his head at the futility of the attack. "One day they'll realize," he said as he tucked an arrow back into his quiver. He then made a motion with his hand, and all eyes of the guardsmen turned to him. "Disarm them and march them to the Gallows, I'll want to talk to them later. And if anyone tries anything smart, well. Realize that I really only need one to talk to," he threatened. It was a show of course, the guard had a policy of not executing its prisoners in the streets, but the thugs didn't have to know that.
"Sophia, Lucien, if you will? There's a loose end we need to see about," he beckoned, leading them up the flight of stairs in front of them. Behind them, Vesper shouted orders and demands at the bandits, though her voice died down as they departed. As they walked, Ashton pointed out blood stains on the dusty stones, no doubt from the wound Ashton had dealt Garrath. However, if the situation demanded a sense of urgency he didn't show it. Instead he followed the trail at a leisurely pace, his arms swinging beside him.
Eventually they found why Ashton was so calm about letting Garrath slip away after they turned a corner. The man was on the ground in the middle of the street, one of the black clad guardsmen sitting on top of him with the other standing and chatting. The chatter died at they saw their captain, both issuing a salute. Ashton returned the gesture and inspected their quarry. Garrath was still alive and conscious, though bound and gagged. He glared at Ashton with his one good eye, but that was all he could do. Ashton simply smiled and waved at him.
"Report," Ashton ordered, straightening and looking at one of his guards. The one who answered removed the black cloth from her face so that she could speak more clearly. "He tried to escape, but we were faster. We caught him when the corporal here tackled him through that stand right there," she said, gesturing to the splinters of what had been at one point a stand of some sort. The corporal still sat on top of the man, and gave them a thumbs up and what sounded like a muffled chuckle. "He tried to bribe us into letting him go, and when we didn't bite he started insulting us. So I gagged him. Oh, and I believe this is yours Ser?" She added, holding out the arrow Ashton had shot. The tip still had a bit of blood on it.
Ashton accepted the arrow with an appreciative nod. "Thank you, you both did fine work. Get him up and we'll take him to the Gallows. We'll figure out where his base of operations is there." With that, the guards grabbed an arm each and hauled him to his feet and waited for Ashton.
He turned toward Lucien and Sophia and shrugged. "Well. That should be enough, yeah? It's late, you both should go home. I'll give you an detailed account of the whole thing later, but this should be enough to keep the nobility off of our backs for a while... Now if only I could do the same for the templars..."
âOne dayâs work at a time,â Lucien recommended, clapping Ashton on the shoulder before turning to depart. âCards down at the barracks later this week?â
"Wouldn't miss it," he answered.
But then, the request to meet wasnât normal either. And the initial⊠âAshton⊠you wouldnât know what happened to your⊠acquaintance Garrath after we last encountered him, would you?â It made senseâhe had the information, the active disagreement with Ashton, and was shady enough to prefer an inactive guard to an effective one.
"No... But I think we do now," he answered. It made sense, and Ashton was beginning to suspect something of the sort, but he never could get concrete evidence. Only an initial and the common theme of smuggling. He sighed through his nose and shook his head. He had hoped he'd put all of that behind him, and now here a loose end was trying to pull him back. "He's a smuggler. He smuggles, though obviously on much larger scale now. He must have taken Leech's place when we dealt with him."
Sophia wasn't all too surprised to learn of a less than reputable background for Ashton. Maybe she hadn't seen it at the time, as fresh as she'd been when she met him, but looking back... he'd always played the part of the rogue, and he was a man with too many skills for the job he formerly held. Thus his connection to a criminal element did not shock Sophia, nor did the way it was currently returning to be a nuisance. The past had a way of doing so. She didn't particularly care; he was the guard captain now, and an excellent one. His experience with smuggling likely gave him an edge in that regard. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened.
âFunny how thereâs always another to fill a gap, isnât it?â Lucienâs tone was dry, and he sighed softly. He was certainly a big believer in creating those gaps anyway, of course, but sometimes, even he had to acknowledge that they were often as not creating more work for themselves by doing so. âHow would you like to handle this?â
The rest of the guards within the hovel seemed to take the fact that Ashton had a less than stellar past in stride. In fact, they seemed utterly unsurprised, even the youngest among them. He'd likely already revealed that he'd been a smuggler once. It was better to reveal the secret himself sooner than to find out later from someone else, and lose the trust he'd earned with his men. Ashton tilted his head toward Vesper and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the splotch of crimson on her armor. "Still good to fight?" He asked. His answered was an offended glare and a blunt answer, "Of course Captain."
The guard clutching his arm also straightened and nodded, "Me too, Ser," Ashton smiled and chuckled to himself, and turned to look at Sophia. "Soft, huh?" He looked back toward the guardsman and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't doubt it, but you've got a more important job. Get better. Go to the clinic and let Nos see that arm. Oh, and tell her I'll be home late," he said with a smile, though it appeared some air was let out of the guardsman. "That's an order, now git."
The guardsman nodded, and saluted the best that he could and took his leave. As he watched him exit, Ashton continued to give orders. "Sergeant," he said to remaining guard, "you remain here with the two outside and start the clean up, I'll send more to help when we return to the Keep. Vesper, you come with us to the barracks, and we'll get a plan together to deal with this old friend of mine. Understood?" He asked, to salutes of his guardsmen. Nodded, he turned back to Sophia and Lucien and tilted his head toward the door. "Shall we?"
Darktown was, as the name implied, dark, especially at night. Lanterns lining the streets were enough to let them see where they were going, but it still left a feeling that they were being watched. Ashton simply brushed it off, acknowledging that they probably were and accepted it. He and Vesper had led the small procession through the dusty streets, until he asked them to hold. They waited in a divot in the road, with stairs leading upward in front and behind them. "This is the place," Ashton said, referring to the location hashed out on the back of the letter they'd found.
"Shield up," Ashton ordered, taking a step behind Vesper so that she could guard both herself and him. "Hiding behind a lady, Captain?' Vesper teased. Ashton drew his bow and fitted and arrow in the nock and leaned toward the side of her in which she held the shield. "You're hardly a lady Lieutenant and you have to get paid for something," he replied with a chuckle. "Eyes up, and keep your wits about you," he told the others.
âWhy?â Lucien pretended to wonder. âI mean, it isnât as though this is obviously a trap. You really should have more faith in people who write mysterious blackmail letters, Ashton.â His hand was already over his shoulder, lightly resting on Everburnâs hilt.
"It wouldn't be a trip to Darktown without the threat of a deadly ambush," Sophia commented, trying to keep her eyes where most of the others were not looking. Criminals knew this place well, far better than the guard or the Templars or anyone else did, and it had a way of changing quite quickly over time. Sophia was a step ahead of Lucien, already having Vesenia drawn, its point resting lightly against the ground, hands atop the pommel. Her stance was relaxed, but clearly ready to move.
They needn't wait long before muffled footsteps rose up over the quiet Darktown night. Ashton's bowstring went taut as he drew the arrow, and likewise Vesper readjusted her grip on her shield. The footsteps not only came from the flight of stairs to their front, but from behind them also. It wasn't a surprise, as they had all already decided it was a trap. Forms stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light cast by a nearby lantern. The men bore the same finely made armor and weaponry as before. A number of them stood both atop the flight of stairs to their front and their back, effectively trapping them in. "Utterly shocking," Ashton muttered under his breath.
"What? Did you expect anything less?" A voice asked from behind a wall of three shield bearing thugs. "Garrath," Ashton alerted the others. He'd brought his bow up, but the armor of the thugs prevented him from finding a clear shot. "Ah, so the good captain does remember his friends. That's good, I was afraid you may have forgotten about me," he said from in the midst of his armored entourage.
"Not quite, poke your head out so I can see your pretty face again," Ashton said, to Garrath's laughter. He couldn't find fault in the man for hiding behind the shields of his lackeys however, as that was exactly what he was doing with Vesper.
"Now, now Ash, the only thing I want to do right now is have a nice civil discussion. These friends of mine are only here to ensure that we have that. Perhaps we can come to a gentleman's agreement?" Garrath said, leaving Ashton to sigh loudly. "All I really want is you to leave me and my operations alone."
A moment passed in silence before Ashton responded. "Really? Just leave you and your men alone to keep smuggling weapons into Kirkwall? Is that all?" Ashton asked, the sarcasm positively dripping from his voice. "Are you going to say please too?"
"No, but perhaps we can hash out a deal. You allow my operations to continue uninterrupted, and I will give you twenty percent of the profits. Oh, and I'll make sure that word doesn't get out that the good captain used to be a smuggler and slaver," Garrath continued.
Another moment passed, Ashton having twitched at being called a slaver. Even he hadn't expected Garrath to go for such a low blow. "Slaver huh? We both know that's not true."
"Maybe, but the common folk don't know that. All it takes is a little doubt for people to start asking questions. If someone was to dig a little deeper, who knows what they'd find?" Ashton could hear the smugness in Garrath's voice, and for him that was the most irritating part. "Or, we could pick the second option, which hurts a lot more than the first."
"Or we could pick the third one. I drag your ass back to the Gallows and let you rot there. I think I like that one better," Ashton said evenly.
It didn't do much to help the smugness in Garrath's voice, "I thought you might have said something along those lines. Very well, but remember you chose this. I had really hoped we could've worked together again." With that, a shrill whistle echoed into the night, a clear signal of sorts.
A few seconds passed... And nothing happened. Garrath whistled again with the same effect. Nothing. There was confusion among Garrath's thugs, as the trap that was supposed to come never did. Then Ashton laughed, silencing them all. "Personally, I'm tired of falling into traps all the time. So I decided that it was time to spring my own," Ashton said, issuing his own signal in the form of a bird call. Silently, two pairs of forms appeared in the lights atop the walls on either side of the divot. They wore black leathers with their heads covered in a black cloth. The only other color they wore were the crimson scarves they wore, denoting them as part of the city guard. In their hands, weapons dripped with what had to be blood.
"I always was the smarter one, remember? Lucien, care to do the honors?"
Since he really doubted Ashton had sprung this trap just to have it out in melee anyway, Lucien decided that âthe honorsâ probably referred to the next stage of negotiations. Because it didnât hurt to make the terms as obvious as possible, he slid Everburn from its sheath, the bladeâs enchantment flaring for a moment before subsiding. Setting the thing casually over his shoulder, the mercenary commander spoke slowly and evenly.
âYouâre all outmaneuvered and, if youâll permit me the presumption to say so, considerably outclassed.â He spoke to the men rather than their leader, whose personal grudge would make talking him down much more difficult if he still believed his people were on his side. âMost of you donât really fight for a living. I expect you know a thing or two about those swords and shields, but usually just showing them off a little is enough to accomplish what you want to do, and thatâs a decent thing.â It might be the only decent thing about some of them, but heâd take what he could get.
âSome of you are just trying to feed your families or your parents. Some of you have never killed a man before. Seems youâve got two choices, then: surrender quietly, and those families donât lose you, and you donât have to kill anyone today. Your employer here wonât be able to hurt you for choosing to do the right thing; the Guard will make sure of that. Choose to fight⊠and I canât make any promises about what things will look like when itâs over. The choice is yours.â
"I'd listen to him if I were you," Sophia added, holding her sword somewhat casually and eyeing the thugs with little concern. Fancy equipment did not make them soldiers, and even before Ashton's impressive counter-trap maneuver she'd been confident that they could take them. "Lay down your arms and this will be much less unpleasant for all of us."
An arrow struck the stone in front of the first thug as an early warning, and the guards atop the walls made the first sounds they had all night as they wiped the blood off of their weapons. It was all very theatrical, and that was the point. Ashton hoped the astounding show of force would cower at least a few of the thugs, and he was not disappointed. A shield or two flagged and metal clattered behind them as swords were dropped. Garrath snarled in response, "Kill them, and I'll make sure you all are paid handsomely."
The offer was enough to entice more than a few of Garrath's thugs, but a couple had decided to take Lucien's offer and backed away, discarding the weapons in their hands. In total, about eight had decided the risk was worth it, four to their front and four to their back. It was when one of the sensible few broke rank that Ashton finally saw Garrath's scarred face, and he didn't waste the opportunity. An arrow was in the air and a cry of pain rang out above the din of steel being readied as it struck Garrath's shoulder. Hard footsteps followed marking his quick exit. Ashton nodded at the two guards atop the closest wall and they left as quietly as they came, off to attend Ashton's unspoken order.
The other pair on the opposite wall patiently waited for their moment to strike, as the thugs began to close in on Ashton and his companions. "Alive, if you can," Ashton asked politely, firing off another arrow at the exposed shin of a shield bearer. "Amateur," Vesper mocked under her breath.
Lucien nodded once in acknowledgement of Ashtonâs desire to take the fighters alive, and removed Everburn from his shoulder, choosing to turn around and take on the four behind. One of the other guards moved with him, a young lady wearing a corporalâs stripes and bearing a smaller shield than Vesper, a shortaxe in her other hand. She gestured wryly for him to precede her, and he smiled slightly, electing to do just that.
He wasnât so reckless as to bull-rush, exactly, but he did choose to confront Garrathâs employees head-on, and the flat of Everburnâs broad blade left an angry red welt on the temple of the first to come forward and meet him, reeling him backwards and leaving him open to a second blow in the same spot, this time from the pommel. He heard a slight crack, but heâd measured the hit as well as he could, so it shouldnât do any permanent damage. It was sufficient to drop the man, though, and Lucien swung in a broad horizontal arc for the other three, scattering them just enough that their tight cluster formation broke.
This enabled his partner to cut one off from the rest, and he left her to it to deal with the other two. One was holding twin daggers, and the other bore a rapier, a much lighter, faster weapon than his own. It was also, however, inferior in terms of reach. He went for the duelist first, juggling her at mid range rather than letting her get up close. She was faster than heâd expected, and surprisingly light on her feet, but her face made it clear enough that she was scared of him, and her fear kept her from getting anywhere close enough to damage him. In the end, he brought her down with a double maneuver: first a hit to her shoulder, drawing a line of blood, and then with a cut to her hamstring, which hobbled her and sent her tumbling forward. She caught herself with her hands, but if she couldnât get up, she couldnât worry him, and so he left matters there, trying to figure out where the other one had gotten to.
It was a shadow in his peripheral vision that alerted him in time to the fact that he was being snuck up on. He moved aside in just enough time to avoid the first knife, which seemed to have been aimed for the base of his spine, but the other one caught him higher, sliding into one of the shoulder joints of his armor. The chain stopped it from doing too much damage, but it did leave a small gouge there, and Lucien drove his elbow back into the rogueâs face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch, and following up by wrapping an arm around his neck from behind, pulling him into a sleeper hold. Less risk of accidentally killing him than just repeatedly hitting him on the head, and when he went slack, Lucien set him down carefully. The guardswoman had just bashed her shield into her foeâs face, and when he fell, she leveled her axe for his neck to keep him in place, one foot on his chest.
Sophia took the opposite side from Lucien, guarding their rear with a heavily armored guardsman armed with a mace and a thick shield. Garrath's thugs on this side were aggressive, and Sophia hardly needed to step forward to engage them. The first rushed her with a fine battle-axe, but probably heavier than he should have been wielding, and Sophia dodged the first downward strike easily, retaliating with a sharp elbow to the jaw, followed by a deep slash of her sword across the back of his leg, sending him howling into a wall, where the guardsmen slammed into him with his shield.
The next tried to bowl Sophia straight over with his shoulder, a move she'd been hit by in the past when she was caught unwary. This time, however, she got low enough to come out of the collision more effectively. Her own shoulder caught him near waist level, flipping him foward onto her back, where she then heaved him over herself, upending him and landing him on his back. A third came at her next, forcing her to parry where she stood, their blades locking for a moment.
The thug on the ground took the opportunity to jab his short blade upwards, finding a spot of leather armor on Sophia's right side to bite through, the shallow stab wound distracting her from the foe in front of her as well to tip the scales. Fortunately, the shield-carrying guard made a charge directly into him, taking him entirely off his feet. Sophia didn't want to see what happened to him, instead withdrawing enough to get away from the sword, before she grabbed hold of the wrist reaching up, and wrenched it until it broke. A swift kick to the man's face shattered his nose and sent a sheet of blood flowing out, more than enough to subdue him for the rest of the fight.
As expected, the melee was over within moments. Ashton straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, shaking his head at the futility of the attack. "One day they'll realize," he said as he tucked an arrow back into his quiver. He then made a motion with his hand, and all eyes of the guardsmen turned to him. "Disarm them and march them to the Gallows, I'll want to talk to them later. And if anyone tries anything smart, well. Realize that I really only need one to talk to," he threatened. It was a show of course, the guard had a policy of not executing its prisoners in the streets, but the thugs didn't have to know that.
"Sophia, Lucien, if you will? There's a loose end we need to see about," he beckoned, leading them up the flight of stairs in front of them. Behind them, Vesper shouted orders and demands at the bandits, though her voice died down as they departed. As they walked, Ashton pointed out blood stains on the dusty stones, no doubt from the wound Ashton had dealt Garrath. However, if the situation demanded a sense of urgency he didn't show it. Instead he followed the trail at a leisurely pace, his arms swinging beside him.
Eventually they found why Ashton was so calm about letting Garrath slip away after they turned a corner. The man was on the ground in the middle of the street, one of the black clad guardsmen sitting on top of him with the other standing and chatting. The chatter died at they saw their captain, both issuing a salute. Ashton returned the gesture and inspected their quarry. Garrath was still alive and conscious, though bound and gagged. He glared at Ashton with his one good eye, but that was all he could do. Ashton simply smiled and waved at him.
"Report," Ashton ordered, straightening and looking at one of his guards. The one who answered removed the black cloth from her face so that she could speak more clearly. "He tried to escape, but we were faster. We caught him when the corporal here tackled him through that stand right there," she said, gesturing to the splinters of what had been at one point a stand of some sort. The corporal still sat on top of the man, and gave them a thumbs up and what sounded like a muffled chuckle. "He tried to bribe us into letting him go, and when we didn't bite he started insulting us. So I gagged him. Oh, and I believe this is yours Ser?" She added, holding out the arrow Ashton had shot. The tip still had a bit of blood on it.
Ashton accepted the arrow with an appreciative nod. "Thank you, you both did fine work. Get him up and we'll take him to the Gallows. We'll figure out where his base of operations is there." With that, the guards grabbed an arm each and hauled him to his feet and waited for Ashton.
He turned toward Lucien and Sophia and shrugged. "Well. That should be enough, yeah? It's late, you both should go home. I'll give you an detailed account of the whole thing later, but this should be enough to keep the nobility off of our backs for a while... Now if only I could do the same for the templars..."
âOne dayâs work at a time,â Lucien recommended, clapping Ashton on the shoulder before turning to depart. âCards down at the barracks later this week?â
"Wouldn't miss it," he answered.
The Chanter's Board has been updated. Progress Report has been completed.