• Placeholder • Half the Battle

[Malcolm]

19 Cylus 716

"Where did they go?" Peter yelled, keen to give chase and stop the horse thieves before they could get too far from the city.
"West!" Kathryn called. "They are headed for Venora!"
"Stand down!" Malcolm ordered his team, bringing his shield up to block against another swift attack from the man he was still tied up in battle with.

Behind him Benjamin was plunging a sword into the breast of another bandit, stopping his heart on impact. Malcolm heard the song of his blade sing, followed by the death cry of his victim. A low, sweeping attack saw the captain's sword bite into the left leg of the man he was still engaging, and a painful knock of the bandit's shield sent Malcolm stumbling backwards. With shield at the ready he took pause momentarily before slamming into the man, using his shield like the head of a makeshift battering ram.
With the horse thief on his back, the city's justice was swiftly served in the form of a blade to the heart, and the team gathered about their scattered victory, itching to press on in the twilight and retrieve the horses after putting an end to those who would dare to steal from the capital.
"Why did you stop us?" Peter asked.
"Because I've worked with horse thieves before," Malcolm admitted. "Their trick is to lead you into a trap, it only takes a small handful to round up a herd, the rest will be waiting just beyond that ridge I assure you."
"You're the boss," Peter shrugged.
"Trust me."

[Malcolm]

The Knights climbed up onto their horses and made for the rise before Malcolm steered his horse left, signalling for half of his unit to head right, hoping to flank the horse thieves from both sides, just as they had talked about. With him, Kathryn, Simon, and Heath followed close by, while Benjamin led Peter, Ronald, and Nathan around the bend. When they met on the other side it was Peter who spotted the burning flame of a torchlight at the bottom of the hill, heading through the pass towards the region of Venora.
"You were saying?" Peter grumbled.
"Shields!" Benjamin shouted as a volley of arrows rained over them, sent from up on the hill they had just circled.

Malcolm pushed Kathryn from her horse and dismounted quickly, closing his form over hers between their horses, his shield held over his head and back. The woman wasn't known for using a shield, despite the countless attempts Malcolm had made to try and convince her of their importance. A pain in the man's right calf saw him turn back to rip a bolt from his leg and call for archers.
Kathryn thanked the captain before hurrying to her feet, weapon at the ready and arrows fired, along with the rest of their crew apt enough to use their ranged weapons from such a distance. The amor on their horses had saved their mounts from taking any damage and quickly, they saddled up again and turned, dashing towards the hilltop while the enemy removed and or reloaded.
Malcolm pulled a throwing blade from his belt and drove his horse towards one of the bowmen who was struggling to pull an arrow from his overpacked quiver. He lunged the blade into the young man and threw a leg over his horse to dismount quickly, attacking the bowman with his longsword. His opponent drew an old cutlass and swung high. Malcolm blocked the attack with his sword and took hold of the handle of his throwing blade, pushing it deeper into the horse thief's shoulder.

[Malcolm]

There was always that fear when fighting against bowmen that one would go for a close range shot to the back. Malcolm did his best to fight in a circle for this reason alone, allowing him to look over his opponent's shoulder. He held his shield at the ready and braced against an oncoming arrow, feeling it shatter against the face of his shield, his head tucked behind the iron wall for defensive purposes, protecting him from any splintered projectiles that might have otherwise caught him.
Clear for a moment, he stabbed his sword at the cutlass wielding bandit, throwing him off guard in order to slam the edge of his shield into the man's arm, disarming him effectively. With his foot closed over the weapon, Malcolm grabbed for the defenceless man and pulled him forwards, protecting himself from another onslaught of arrows, using the bandit like a sack of meat fit only to catch arrows intended for the Mortalborn. Dead or dying, he cast his meat shield aside and pressed forwards along with Peter, Benjamin, and Simon who all preferred their melee weapons over the rest who had stayed back down the hill to make the best of a ranged assault.
Another short throwing blade was taken from the man's belt and he tossed it in the direction of a man who had tried to sneak up on them from behind, but had given himself away with a battle cry that soon turned into his death roar, finished off with a blade to the neck as he came crashing down onto the earth at their feet. It was difficult to take a man's head off with one swing, and there was no shame in hacking away a few more times to get the job done and send the bloody remains into enemy territory to frighten any who would insist on remaining defiant.
When the battle was done and the two survivors of the group had held their hands up in defeat, Malcolm helped secure them with rope and picked up any useful weapons to take back to the city for young Moseke recruits or squires to use. With all of his throwing blades accounted for, Malcolm went about checking pockets and taking anything he could see of value. Bandits didn't often carry coin on them, but every now and then he got lucky. Kathryn had dodged an arrow and earned herself a cut to her right cheek, while Peter had caught a sword against his arm, just a shallow cut, but it was bleeding quite alarmingly.
"Sorry," the man smiled as Malcolm approached and tended to his arm, wrapping it tightly with a bandage from their shared med-kit.
"Don't be," the captain smiled. "You should always question your commanders, keeps us honest," the Mortalborn grinned and tied the bandage off. "You and Kathryn can take these two back to the city, get your wounds checked out and call it a day."
"What about the herd?"
"The rest of us will catch up to them, don't worry."

[Malcolm]

They thundered down the hill on horseback, the twilight sky making it difficult to see very far ahead but finding the lone torch up ahead on the road was easy. It twinkled in the distance like a brightly burning star that had fallen to earth, hovering and ducking in and out of the tree-line. Heath raced ahead and was thrown over the top of his horse as it stopped in the road suddenly and reared up, throwing its reins about like long black whips. The rest of the crew stopped and Benjamin got off his horse to help Heath, who other than a few bumps and small grazes, seemed to be all right.
"What happened?" Malcolm called.
Simon got down from his horse and pointed out a rope that had been strung up between two trees and given Heath's horse terrible whiplash. "Trapped out?" Simon replied.
Malcolm growled. "Go around!"

The captain led his horse through the trees, keeping the reins short in order to steer the animal through the tight turns and narrow gaps. In the dim light the horses were spooked easily, but it wasn't long before they were out of the woods and on the road again. Malcolm nudged his horse in the sides to get back up to speed and raced along the road towards the turn where the terrain started to climb a little. Over the rise they could see the herd stopped in the middle of the road with the torch burning away unmanned.
"Stay alert," Malcolm warned. "And keep your shields up, we don't know how many of them are left."

As they drew closer, the team looked about the countryside, or what they could see of it, searching for any moving figures in the darkness. It wasn't until they were in and moving amongst the herd that they were jumped by the remaining bandits who hoped to take them out with stealth, moving amongst the horses on foot in order to try and stay out of reach of the Knights blades. It was Benjamin who caught the first arrow, shot into his left arm at close range. Malcolm spotted the attacker and charged after him on his horse and kicked the fleeing man in the back, sending him to the ground. Without mercy he got down from his horse and stabbed the man in the back only to raise his sword and finish the job by hacking at the back of his neck.
A younger man, surely only a teenager, ran at him then, with axe in hand. He swung at the captain, a move deflected by the Knight's raised shield, only for him to then take his own pound of flesh, severing hand from wrist. The boy cried out and sank to his knees, gripping his wrist tightly.
"You killed my brother!" Malcolm mad out the painfully slurred words and feeling pity for the boy, undid his belt and fastened it high on the lad's arm before tightening it as best he could to try and slow the blood flow.
"Your brother was a thief and he attacked a knight, you're lucky he died well."
"You stabbed him in the back!"
"More than he deserved!" Malcolm hissed and held a balled rag to the teen's bleeding stub. "Hold this you fool, or you'll die too."

[Malcolm]

As Malcolm was digging through his supplies to try and find some more bandages, the boy he had been helping reached across and snatched a throwing blade from the captain's belt, thrusting it towards the man as he sat defenceless with his back turned. The blade dug into the Mortalborn's thigh, and he twisted his body to stare at the teen and remove the blade swiftly before plunging it into his attacker's neck. The blade had caught the edge of his left leg, cutting through the lean muscle and minimal fat stores. The skin curled back on itself to expose fatty, yellow flesh that didn't bleed, causing Malcolm to assume he was all right for now.
The captain didn't have much time to think on things as one of the remaining bandits stumbled upon him, and instead of tucking tail and heading for the hills, as might have been wise, he charged at the knight with weapon at the ready. From his low stance, Malcolm was able to thrust at the man's legs, severing a tendon that was quickly sucked up into the limb and saw the man go down, falling heavily against the shield Malcolm took up to defend himself. The two of them scuffled and after some wrestling, the man had managed to disarm the knight, his arm closed around the captain's neck while Malcolm struggled to get a hold.
The horses danced nervously around the pair, rolling back and forth in the dirt, but is was Malcolm who managed to get the upper hand, using the knife he had killed the last one with to serve the same end to this man. He watched the blood as it was pumped out through the hole in the man's neck, by force of dying heart, and sighed. A few less scumbags in the world, but was a small herd of horses really worth all the trouble, or was it the principle; you take from the kingdom and it will be the last thing you do.

[Griffin]

Malcolm

Skills
Leadership: 2
Shield/Kite: 5
Blades/Longsword: 4
Mount: 2
Thrown Weapons: 4
Tactics: 1
Strength: 2
Surgery: 2

Basic Knowledge
Shield: Anything & anyone can be a shield, including you.
Shield: Many uses
Combat: Disarm opponents fast
Surgery: Tight bandages to stop bleeding
Peter: Doesn’t follow orders blindly

Specialized Knowledge
Philosophy: Take from the Kingdom and it’ll be the last thing you do
Horse thieves: never turn your back on them
Horse thieves: love setting traps

Wounds:
Racked quite a few of these up! Malcolm has earnt himself some more stitches, two to the calf to fix the hole made by the cross-bow bolt and five in the right thigh from that nasty stab wound. Given that both of these wounds are in the leg they’re going to take some recovery time before he’s able to walk and run at normal speed. Malcolm will have a limp that slowly eases over the next twenty trials. Be careful of infection.

Loot:
Congratulations! You found the grand total of 1sn and 8cn in the pockets of the thieves. Rich beyond your wildest dreams

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Notes

I love these kinds of threads with all the NPC's chiming in with their point of view and opinions. Lots of fighting skills to award but still the story to pull it all together. More please, I would always like more threads to read.