On the way back.....

[Vega]

Cylus 12th 720
On the way home from this

They were making their way back from a very successful supply run. Vega was more than pleased with what they had and, in fact, they'd
got so much that they'd split into two groups to make sure that they got everything back. Two wagons, both overflowing with supplies and so, Vega was pleased and happy. They'd been very successful and between them, she and Mathias had gotten a good amount of supplies. The folks from Mistral Village had helped and now, from Rharne, there were lots of things which would help. It was, of course, dark - it was Cylus and so it was always dark - and Vega glanced up at the night sky. "We're not givin' up hope, just yet," she said with a smile. "After all, doin' that isn't in my nature. You know, though, Xiur," the young woman had always prayed this way. Just chatting. Heck, when she'd met him, she'd offered Xiur a cup of tea. Touching her hand to her chest, Vega prayed a soft and private prayer to him. "If I can make a diff'rence, Xiur, I will. In your name. All of it, always. We'll kick this bunch o'lollygaggin' lily-livered layabouts into shape, an' that's tootin'." It was good, she thought, that Xiur seemed to understand her. Immortals knew, she talked gibberish most of the time.

"Keep an eye out, there," Vega said, motioning to the guards they'd got to protect them in Rharne. That had always been the plan, and she and Mathias had worked it out. But there was a feeling, some sort of sense which Vega had and she looked around. There was something which wasn't quite sitting right with her and Vega looked at Bertha, the driver of their carriage. "Bertha, I know I've already said it, but there's two things here what are most important. An' the first one is you. We all signed up for trouble an' we're glory-hounds each an' every one. But you're helpin' us out an' by all the Immortals, I'm gonna get right naffed off if you end up gettin' hurt, a'right? Stay close, stay down, an' don't be doin' nothin' heroic." Bertha nodded. Vega, undeterred by her audience's apparent lack of enthusiasm, continued. "An' the second thing is these supplies. If it's a choice between yellin' 'yeeehaw' an' making that horse fly like the wind," alright, probably wasn't happening, Vega considered, but still. "or savin' me, you yeehaw your little butt-cheeks off, a'right?" At that, at least, Bertha smiled. Vega grinned. "You remember that, Bertha, cos I've got a shiverin' in my timbres, an' I don't like it."

All was quiet for a moment and then an arrow flew and then another. As the dark and well-armed figures burst out of the treeline, Vega sighed and drew her sword. "Knickers," she said, softly. "I always hate it when I'm right." Then, she gave a yell, "For Storm's Edge!!!" As she did she used the "Flow of Morale" ability from her Nalos mark. Everyone on her side within 120 foot felt a sense of increased hopefulness. "We've prepared for this! Guard the supplies an' don't mess about!" Had to be said, Vega was still learning the skills of leadership.

[Vega]

Cylus 12th 720
On the way home from this

There were too many of them for the small group to take and Vega knew, as she stood and fought, that some of their people were going to die. She also knew that they didn't have to. She could run forward, she could charge and take out the bandits at range - but if she did that she would leave the supplies open. "No you don't, you dweebazoid!" Vega yelled as she turned and almost casually sliced the arm from one of the bandits. They'd been clever, damn them, and they stayed far enough away, in large enough numbers, that there was nothing the supply guards could do except chase them down.

But that left the supply-wagons vulnerable, and Vega wasn't prepared to do that. Not at all.

So, she made the only decision she could make, in light of what was going on. She stayed to defend the supplies. Which meant that she faced four of them - it had been five but the one whose arm she took screamed and fell to the floor. "Yer outnumbered, you know!" She was suddenly transported to the time, so long ago, when she had chased down the group of bandits who had beaten up Arlo. Believing she was on her own, she'd thought she was done for when one of them sneaked up behind her, but Arlo of course had followed her and the pair of them dispatched the bandits in question. Vega had been pretty badly injured, but Arlo had taken her back to their camp and, from there, taken care of the bodies.

They were the first people she'd ever killed, Vega recalled and, as the four remaining would-be thieves advanced on her, she almost missed the moment where she had never taken a life. But then, that was a time when she had never defended against those who would hurt others, or kill them, for something so simple as supplies.

"Lets dance, boys," she said, and that was what they did.

The four bandits were good, one of them - a tall blond man with bright blue eyes which seemed to be the sort that many women would find attractive, might even have been an expert swordsman, but even all together they were no match for her. Vega knew that, and so she did everything she could to make this fight as quick - and as non-lethal - as possible. So, she went for quick and debilitating blows, some of which she knew would mean that they died if they didn't get healing. That, however, was not her issue right now. Vega moved with an almost-dance-like grace, apparently calmly slicing and parrying, stepping to one side and then moving to the other. Her sword flashes and sung and they fell; one, then the next, then the third and the last.

But it took time.

And it was in that time that their people died. She had wanted, more than anything, to run out to greet the bandits at the treeline. To save their troops, goodness knew there were few enough of them here, but she couldn't. Because then, the supplies would be vulnerable. So now, as the final bandit fell, Vega immediately sheathed her sword and pulled her bow.

"PULL BACK TO THE WAGONS!" She called and, thank all the Immortals for that ring she wore which meant that those with her knew that she was good for what she said, and the Lightning Knights were prepared to work with her. "We're gettin' out of here!" There'd been ten guards, and in the time it had taken her to dispatch the bandits, four of them had died. She felt sick in her stomach and she knew that the death of those guards was as much her responsibility as the bandits themselves. But she didn't have time for that nonsense right now, so Vega lifted her bow and she took aim and fired.

She was excellentMaster with a bow, and she stood, by the wagon, providing cover for the knights as they drew back. She chose where she did that, carefully, gauging who on her side was injured, who was outclassed in terms of skill. She was encouraging "Get yer scabby butts back here or I'm gonna make you wish you was dead!", supportive "an' move more quickly!" and, more than anything she was efficient. The bandits who had been using ranged weapons and had switched to short-range, blades and one with a cudgel. Vega just kept shooting as the six remaining guards backed away.

They had to go slowly, because they were still fighting. As Vega shot one of the bandits, the guards moved either to come back to the wagon or to help one of their companions, depending on the situation. The tide had turned and the bandits knew - so they finally broke off and headed back into the trees. "I swear to Xiur, if you even think about it, I'm gonna smack you so hard that you'll travel forward in time an' attend yer own funeral!! GIT BACK HERE!"

Were any of them thinking about it? Vega didn't know or care, she wanted them to be clear that chasing after the bandits right now was a very bad idea. So, bouncing on her toes - and not shooting the fleeing remaining bandits in the back, because she wasn't and never would be, that person - Vega waited until the guards got to the wagon. One was injured, "Ah, Sintra's skid marks, look at you, yer bleddin' all over my wagon. Get over there." Of course, as she admonished him, Vega was tearing her skirt and using it as a bandage. Her voice was sharp, but her hands gentle as she did her best. "It looks worse than it is, yer jus' fakin'," she said and the young - he looked so young - man smiled at her. Then, he moved his hand which had been clutching his stomach and Vega looked at him in horror.

"Oh, well, now yer jus' showin' off, aren't you?" she said, and she pulled him close to her. They were both covered in blood, it didn't matter to her and nothing mattered to him any more. "It's cold, I'm cold," he whispered, and Vega nodded. "It is cold. Don't worry, look, here. We've patched you right up, an' the cold jus' means it's gettin' better. It's workin', see?" She and he were on the back of the wagon that was making its way back to Storm's Edge and she spoke to him the whole way. His name, as it turned out, was Hob, and he was here on his first mission. He'd only just joined the Knights and he was going to be a hero.

Vega knew - because she'd been told - so she knew in theory - that death from a wound like this was slow and painful. The next three breaks taught her it in horrible, vile detail. She knelt with him, cradling him as he slowly died in excruciating pain. The whole time, she kept smiling and telling him that the cold he was feeling, the pain he was in, it meant that the medicine they'd given him had worked. He grew less and less coherent and, when he finally breathed his last, she lowered her head and buried it in his chest. One of the other Knights there spoke to her. "We're nearly back," he said and put his hand out, as though to touch her. But then, he noticed that there were literal sparks, like embers, flying off her and he didn't.

"We need to get these supplies loaded, an' in the halls," Vega said. She gently laid Hob's head down and closed his eyes, then looked at the Knight who was speaking to her. She was covered, literally drenched in blood, but she didn't notice or care. "Come on then. An' I want Hob taken care of. Properly." The knight nodded. "Do you want to go and clean up?" His question caused Vega's eyes to swirl dangerous colours. "Will it make Hob less dead? Or will the stuff need sortin' an' storin' less if I'm not covered in blood? No. Didn't think so. There's yer answer then. Come on."

And so, they got to work.

[Doran]

Vega:

Knowledge:
Tactics x 4
Caregiving x 2


Loot:
Wealth: -
Injuries: Scrapes, cuts, bruises and such.
Renown: 15, for defending the supplies and fighting the bandits - and winning!
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 10

- - -

Comments: I like the way that Vega prays to Xiur – just chatting – and the way that she talks never fails to amuse me. She has such an interesting vocabulary!

The fight was entertaining as well in my opinion. I couldn’t help but wonder what a “dweebazoid” is though. I assume it’s nothing particularly pleasant as she called a bandit that?

Enjoy your rewards!