Lissa knew that she needed to get within reach of Roger Blackwood. It took a few heartbeats for her revelation to process on his face. Meanwhile, he had kicked the butt of his halberd away from the dirt, bringing the lethal points down facing Lissa’s head. Even being four meters from him, it took her only five quick and decisive steps to reach him.

She didn’t bother drawing her sword. Lissa grabbed the shaft of the halberd near the head and broke it off. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it into his thigh. Just as his face was contorting in pain, Lissa kicked him full in the chest, sending him to the ground and skidding to a halt roughly two meters away. It took her two steps to get to him. By that time, her sword was drawn, and she put it to his throat. “Stay down or die,” Lissa stated, not even passing him a glance as she locked eyes with the sixteen bandits rushing her.

“Fuck you bitch!” Roger shouted, having drawn his dagger. Lissa glanced down to Roger and brought her boot down hard onto his wrist. He cried out in pain as it impacted the dirt, broken. Roger Blackwood never spoke the curses that were bubbling from him, all that came was blood. He gasped, choking On the blood pooling in his slit throat. Looking Lissa in the eye, he mouthed, “Blooded Bitch.”

Lissa didn’t pay any more attention to the man exsanguinating at her feet. A sharp whistle behind Lissa made her turn just enough to grab the shield that had been tossed towards her. It took her a precious few moments to don the shield properly, only in time to parry aside an ax that came towards her shoulder.

Lissa watched the bewildered attacking woman’s face as the potential death blow skidded across her shield. It didn’t last long as a crossbow bolt buried itself into her throat half a second later. Lissa slapped the woman hard across the face knocking her down and to the side to die. Hearing a scream to her right, she stole a glance sideways and saw Saida slicing her sword through the shoulder of an unlucky dwarf man. A hatchet dropped at his feet.

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Veena watched in horror from the treetops as the Emissaries waded into the melee. “Fucking Hell,” she muttered, seeing the woman with a greatsword cut deep into the collarbone of the dwarf. Veena thought his name was Gorum. She looked at Roger again, seeing him still gushing blood from his slashed throat. He wouldn’t survive even if they managed to kill them all. “Sorry Rog, I know you are my brother and all, but I ain’t got a death wish.” Veena leaped from treetop to treetop, escaping the ensuing slaughter

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Lissa slammed the shield into the exposed neck of her opponent. The man dropped, clawing at his useless windpipe, trying to stave off suffocation. “Fucker! Tree on my left!” Lissa heard the shout from Garza off to her right. She glanced towards him and saw an arrow protruding from his side. Lissa didn’t need to go after the archer as soon enough, a bolt would find its mark from Darvick. The momentary distraction nearly cost her dearly. The man she crushed the windpipe produced a dagger with his remaining strength.

A hoarse cry of vengeance drew her attention back to the man. She lopped the hand that held the dagger from his wrist. Blood spurted from his stump, he fell to his side, soon to die. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Turning to her left, she saw a hooded mage, mask glowing, and both hands stretched out in front of them. It was too late to dodge the full brunt of the blow. Lissa put the shield between her and the mage.

The nearly imperceptible solid ball of aether slammed into the shield denting it. The force traveled into her forearm, pushing it into her chest. Lissa slid backward and fell. Her arm flared with pain, either broken or fractured. “Lis! You alright!” the voices of Mera and Mela came from her left. Lissa looked at them. Their gauntlets glowed with energy, ghostly talons on the fingertips.

Two bandits lay dead at their feet, both with limbs at unnatural angles, dead or dying. Two more were still alive, keeping them occupied with quick jabs from spears. The straps from their shields hung uselessly from their arms. “Fine! Deal with them!” Lissa replied, rolling to the side, avoiding the inevitable second blow. As she moved away from her initial landing. The second sphere impacted, leaving a furrow in the dirt.

Lissa pushed herself off the ground ignoring the pain from her injured arm. She discarded the damaged shield and drew her focus. It took her a precious few heartbeats to attune to it. “Make sure we get one alive!” Lissa roared while charging at the mage. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to activate her second sight. A small pinprick of pain confirmed it worked. Opening her eyes, she saw another sphere heading towards her.

An ethereal blade half the size of her sword came to life with her Focus as its hilt. She brought the edge up, and it sliced cleanly into the sphere breaking the mage’s control. The Aether exploded out with a loud boom, sending air whipping past Lissa’s face.

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If anyone could see Alicia’s face through the mask, they would see the sweat. The sheer force of will required to not only produce a sharp edge with Aether but also have it strong enough to slice through her control was incredibly rare. At least among those she typically associated with. She had thought the Emissary foolish for not attempting to dodge this sphere. For the first time in her career, she was truly outmatched. The red-skinned demon-like Emissary stared at her, murder in her eyes.

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Tyrin watched the slaughter unfolding in front of him. The ones that scared him the most were the halfling women. They didn’t use anything but their bare hands. And yet, they still ripped the hired men and women apart. Something dawned on him as he watched the carnage. Doing a quick headcount, he saw all of the Emissaries were fighting. None were protecting the adjutant. An ear-splitting grin crossed his face. Even if he died, at least, he could take someone with him. Sticking to the surrounding trees, he slowly made his way to his target.

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Lissa stared at the mage, who stood mere meters in front of her. Her heart pounded. Her tail twitched erratically. Gasping for breath Lissa no longer felt the pain in her arm. Tensing, she sprang at the mage crossing the distance in two strides. The mage raised their arms, trying to forestall their doom with another sphere. She dropped her sword and gripped the focus in both hands, once again slicing the sphere in two.

The resulting detonation made the mage stumble backward. Lissa advanced steadily. The mage pleaded with her, “Please spare me! I surrender!” Lissa heard the woman speak, but the words didn’t register. A few more steps backward found the mage backing into an unyielding tree. They turned to get past the tree and made one step before Lissa’s boot found and broke the foot.

The scream of pain joined the chorus of death. The female mage turned to face Lissa, a hand jumping to the mask to peel it off. Lissa grabbed it, squeezing and breaking the bones. “Stop, please!” the woman begged, beginning to sob. Lissa felt as if someone poured ice down her back. She let go and took a step backward. The mage collapsed, clutching her broken hand close to her chest, and cried. “I. I accept your surrender,” Lissa turned to look behind her. She saw Almios, Garza, Mera, and Mela squaring off against the remaining bandits. “You are certainly smarter than your comrades. Once we finish cleaning up, we will start questioning you. We may yet spare your life.”

Lissa turned back to the mage, who was nodding enthusiastically. “I will tell you everything, just spare my life, please!” The mage pleaded again. Lissa scowled, “You are alive. None of your injuries are fatal. I can’t guarantee we will spare your life. But I will make sure we consider it. If you try to flee, you guarantee your death. So stay here!” With a final point to the ground, she ran towards the others scooping up her sword and sheathing her Focus on the way.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

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Alicia breathed a sigh of relief. With her unbroken hand, she took off the porcelain mask and dropped it next to her. She reached up and wiped the tears and sweat from her face with her sleeve. Alicia looked at her broken hand and saw the fingers bent at different angles. Shards of bone poking through her skin, causing her to bleed. She stretched out her legs to try and get pressure off her broken foot. Wincing in pain, she thought against looking at it. She could only imagine how it looked, given she could feel warm blood pooling to her ankle.

Alicia could hear the Emissaries shouting at the ones left alive, telling them to drop their weapons for a quick death. Even with a short time, she knew this group. She knew none of them would give up without a fight. The pride of taking down an Emissary even if you died immediately after would be worth it in their eyes.

A noise behind and to her left made Alicia turn her head. “Hey, if you are one of us, just run. I would only slow you down.” She listened intensely, waiting to hear the sound of footsteps running away. They didn’t. In fact, they took another step towards her. She leaned to that side, wincing in pain momentarily. “Hey, I said to…” Alicia couldn’t finish speaking. Standing above her, she saw glowing red eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Before she could even scream, their hand flashed a dagger to her throat and sliced.

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“Hey, pretty boy! I like you, but that doesn’t mean I will go easy on you!” Lissa heard the bandit who rivaled Garza in sheer musculature shout as she closed the distance. She could feel the pain in her arm again, but it was still usable, at least. Gripping her sword with both hands, she joined the stare-off. Nine bandits were facing them. One had a bow and was trained onto Darvick, who sat side-saddle on his horse a few meters away.

Lissa didn’t see Saida anywhere and spoke softly to Mera and Mela, who happened to be the closest to her. “Where is Saida?” Mera turned her head and replied just as quietly, “Flanking them from the woods, the signal is when that archer goes down.” Lissa nodded to them both. She stepped in front of everyone and pointed her sword at the burly man. “I am sure you have been told this already, but if you lay down your arms now, I can guarantee a quick death. I really don’t want to hear more screaming today.”

The burly man only grinned, “Oh love, you ain’t my type, but I like the cut of your jib, so I wouldn’t mind if you join that fella and me there.” He gestured to Garza, “In screaming my name later, which is Harrick, by the way.” Lissa rolled her eyes and glanced behind Harrick at possible movement in the trees. “Trying to get me to look is the oldest trick in the book, love, and I ain’t falling for it!”

Lissa only shrugged as she saw Saida getting ready to sprint at the archer, “You aren’t really my type either, so no loss there.” Lissa saw her start and watched Siada bound across the distance reaching the unfortunate archer just as she finished speaking. The last bound brought Saida’s feet to the man’s shoulders, and he collapsed in a heap, with her on top. Her sword soon relieved him of his mortal coil as it stabbed into his heart.

Lissa saw Darvick twitch his crossbow, releasing the bolt into the woman who stood next to the archer. It quickly buried itself into her neck, and she collapsed, gurgling.

Garza laughed, charging forward only to be intercepted by a dwarf with a shield as tall as he was who slammed it down in his path. Harrick only grinned at Lissa and charged her before she could move. Mera and Mela had already crossed over to the bandits and were breaking their bodies in short order. Almios assisted Garza in rolling over the shield and slicing the dwarf up the spine.

“Just you and me, love!” Harrick screamed, bringing his ax in a diagonal cut down at Lissa. She stepped backward, avoiding the ax but letting Harrick hit her full-on with his shoulder. Lissa dug in her heels, dropped her sword, and grabbed Harrick. Stopping him entirely only sliding back a meter. “Wrong move, love,” Lissa replied, smirking. She brought her knee up into his chest while pressing down with her arms.

Harrick tried to block the blow with his forearm, but it only resulted in getting it broken. He switched his grip to his left hand and swung the ax hoping to catch Lissa in the back. Lissa grabbed his arm and twisted while getting behind him. Harrick gritted his teeth and leaned, backward hoping to crush Lissa under his weight.

She held him up with effort while twisting his arm more. Lissa felt the pain in her arm grow more intense before she heard the snap of a bone-breaking. The white-hot pain made her grip slacken, and Harrick twisted free while grabbing a dagger from his belt. “You almost got me there,” Harrick remarked, backing away from Lissa and the others towards the Horses.

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Micah watched with rapt attention as Lissa and the others dealt with the bandits. Now, after only a few scant minutes, all but one lay dead at their feet. He led the horses to shelter near the western portion of the road, away from the fighting. Micah had only worried once during this entire encounter when the mage had attacked Callista.

He had seen her get blown backward by them. Micah knew that his cousin could be overconfident. But he thought she had finally bit off more than she could chew when she had stood facing the mage. Letting them attack her seemingly without caring enough to dodge. When she had produced the blade from her Focus, he had immediately started writing in a journal he grabbed from one of the many pouches he had around him.

Micah had watched her come back out from the woods and then take on Harrick, who now was backing up towards Micah. “Woah, easy there, all of you, we are perfectly safe, no need to fuss,” He said to the horses around him as they neighed and chattered amongst themselves. Micah heard rustling from above him and looked. Peering down at him was a halfling man, a manic grin on his face. “Wrong Time to say that, boy!” the halfling man shouted, dropping onto Micah and knocking him to the ground.

Micha felt cold metal touch his throat. “Get up on your knees nice and slow. Otherwise, I may twitch,” The halfling said into Micah’s face. His breath reeked of alcohol and made Micah gag. “Harrick, get over here! And the rest of you don’t come any closer, or he gets another mouth!” The halfling shouted while Micah slowly got up, wary of the dagger at his throat.

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Lissa had watched Harrick back up, slowly inching closer to Micah. She had barely caught movement behind him before Micah fell to the ground. A halfling bandit on his back and a knife to his throat. “Harrick, get over here! And the rest of you don’t come any closer, or he gets another mouth!” she had heard the halfling shout. Harrick turned. A shit-eating grin on his face, “I wondered where you went, Tyrin!” Harrick turned and ran towards Micah and Tyrin.

Lissa stopped in her tracks as the others caught up to him. Darvick is still on his horse, his crossbow trained at Tyrin. “I can get him,” he remarked more towards Lissa than anyone else. “No, even if you get that halfling, Harrick could still get to him before we could stop him,” Her reply earned sidelong glances from Mera and Mela. “Do you think we couldn’t heal him in time?”

Lissa shook her head at the. She knew they could but still, even seeing Micah like this bothered her. How would she live with herself if, for some reason, they couldn’t, and he died? “I don’t want to see him hurt at all,” Mera and Mela nodded in understanding. Saida came up on Lissa’s right, “They have to know they won’t make it out of here alive, so why bother?” Lissa shrugged at her question, “Desperate people do desperate things.” Garza remarked while holding his side.

Lissa looked up and down the line at themselves. Darvick was utterly unharmed. Almios had cuts on his face and was bleeding from his left leg. Garza sported a fresh cut across his head along with the arrow still being in his side. Mera and Mela looked like they would have severe bruising and a few minor scratches. Lissa looked at herself and knew her arm was broken. Her chest would be badly bruised, but otherwise was fine. Looking at Saida, she couldn’t find anything wrong, and besides the blood from the bandits and some loose hair seemed perfect.

“What would it take for you to let Micah go?” Lissa asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

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Tyrin watched as the Emissaries stood in a line about five meters away from them. He eyed the dwarf with the crossbow, “Harrick, have you seen Veena?” Harrick shook his head, “Nope, I think she ran off.” Tyrin shook in anger for a moment nicking his hostage. “What would it take for you to let Micah go?” Tyrin looked up at the red-skinned blooded woman who had asked the question.

“Micah, eh? Nice to meet ya,” Tyrin whispered into Micah’s ear. “Harrick, take him. Make sure that dagger of yours stays on his neck,” Tyrin said. It took only a moment for the switch to happen—just enough time for him to ponder the question.

“Our lives, for starters! Your dwarf there looks real intent on putting a bolt into my heart, so drop it stubby!” He pointed his knife at the dwarf, who visibly fumed but complied. “Also, some horses, food, and water!” Tyrin looked to Harrick, who nodded in agreement. He watched the Emissaries converse for a moment. “Stop being a grabby little man, or else you get something far worse than a sore throat,” Harrick said through gritted teeth. Tyrin looked at Micah and saw him touch Harrick’s chest with his bent back arms. “Both of you made a huge mistake,” Micah said, and Tyrin saw a smile on his face.

Stepping in front of him, Tyrin looked at him, “And what’s that, Mr. Micah?” Micah chuckled, “You assumed I was defenseless.” Tyrin saw a few rings on Micah’s fingers glow and knew it was too late.