The woman in red leather marched toward Mery, drawing swords from each hip. Wat’s eyes went wide, and he said, “Mery, you’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen. The smartest, fastest, best there is!”
As those things were happening, Mery plunged her sword into the first man, killing him. Then she turned to face the woman in red. “Rosie, we just want the kids. This has to stop, now. This... operation of yours, it has to stop.”
“Shit,” the man Isa had been fighting blurted out the word, reminding Isa that he was still a threat. She jammed her rapier in its scabbard and slammed him with her quarterstaff. He rocked back on his heels from the blow. Joth flung a ray of frost only a second later, and ice spread across the man’s face. In response, the man lunged forward and just barely kept his feet. Joth zinged another ray at him.
The bearded man and the priest followed Thorn toward Mery and Wat. Thorn jabbed at Mery with one blade and swung with the other. The swing caught Mery low on her leg and sliced through her leggings.
Mery shuffled to the side and darted her blade at Thorn, hitting the woman on her upper arm. “Ouch, that must sting!” Mery said with a grin. Wat moved up to the now free space and took his own swing at Thorn. His blow landed near where Mery’s had, further damaging Thorn’s left arm.
Isa’s focus stayed on the man in front of her. Time enough to help Mery with Thorn. She swung the bottom of her staff up, making the man start to dodge a leg blow, but then she brought the top of her staff around and slammed his arm. She felt rather than heard his arm break. He dropped his mace with a cry. Joth shot frost at him, hitting his throat.
Isa could hear fighting behind her, Mery’s muffled words. She needed to drop this guy quickly since Mery and Wat faced at least 3 opponents. With a moment of extra concentration Isa swung her quarterstaff up and just missed the man’s ear, but she danced closer to him on the downswing and caught him between the legs. As he doubled over, Joth’s ray hit him between the shoulderblades, and he collapsed.
Isa pivoted on one foot in time to see Mery and Thorn trading sword blows, Mery’s one blade against Thorn’s two. But somehow Mery crouched under one of Thorn’s blade, came in close and shoved her sword at Thorn’s stomach. From Isa’s vantage, she couldn’t see Thorn’s expression or the actual wound, but as Mery stepped away holding her bloody sword straight out, Thorn took a step back and fell over with one hand raised to ward off another blow.
Wat started to swing his sword down at Thorn’s arm, a blow that would have taken the woman’s arm off, but Mery yelled, “No!” and Wat somehow managed to check his swing.
The bearded man took advantage of Wat’s maneuver to lash out with one of his longswords. He caught Wat on the upper thigh, and the blade tore a rip through Wat’s pants and leather armor.
The priest made a hasty motion with the circle at his belt and then knelt beside Thorn. He placed his hand on her belly and whispered some words.
Thorn, still on the floor gasping, said, “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m leaving, and you’re trying to kill me?”
Mery trained her blade on the bearded man but answered Thorn. “Trying to stop ya, not kill ya. Tell your man to stand down. No one else needs to die.”
Thorn pushed herself to her feet. “You used to be fun,” she said and spat out some blood. “The old Mery woulda come with me, probably. Imagine us on a stage somewhere.” She stopped to draw a ragged breath. “The music, the screaming crowds. Fucking brilliant. But you’re a fucking…. cop now! And you’re in my way.” She stooped to pick up her blades and turned to the priest. “Do it. Read the scroll.”
“Ma’am, under the very best of circumstances I would want time to study--”
“Alen,” Thorn flicked her blade at the priest, and the bearded man took a step toward him. “Help the holy man find his inner peace.”
“They said you were goin’ home, but I didn’t believe it,” Mery said.
“I made my fortune.” Rose flashed a hand laden with rings. “And now I want to get back home and make another one. The right way, with my songs.”
The priest reached into his bag. Mery said to him, “You’re not wrong to want better conditions for your scroll, man.” She smiled at him. “She’s not a patient woman. Heaven knows it, and so do we, yeah?”
The priest didn’t respond except to scowl at Mery. He began to unroll the scroll. Wat struck at the priest with his short sword, jabbing the man in his side.
Isa, realizing what was happening, ran toward the group. “That’s my scroll,” she yelled. Without thinking it through, she slid into the priest, knocking him off his feet. He fell but held on to the scroll.
“Actually,” Joth said from behind her, “that’s not your scroll.” He held a rolled piece of parchment in his hand. “This is.”
Thorn looked from the paper in the priest’s hand to the one in Joth’s. “You fucker,” she breathed. “Alen!” That was all the direction the bearded man needed. He charged at Joth with both longswords out. Joth’s face turned white, and the scroll disappeared as Alen brought both swords down on Joth, slashing down twice across the wizard’s front, making an X in blood.
With a finger pointed at Joth, Thorn said, “Why are we even fighting? Huh? We both want the same thing, don’t we?” She took 2 steps toward Joth, her hips wagging as she moved. “I was maybe a little hasty siccing Alen on you. I can patch you right up - in exchange for your scroll.” Thorn’s eyes glittered in the candlelight. “Not that I think it’s the gate scroll, but a girl can’t be too careful.”
Isa took the opportunity to stand up as everyone focused on Joth.
Joth had his hands clenched together as if he were holding a staff. “Peddle that charm spell somewhere else. I’m keeping this scroll.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“I can still use it even if it has your blood on it,” Thorn spit out.
As Thorn spoke Mery and Wat swung at her at almost the same moment. Mery’s blow was high, hitting Thorn at the shoulder. Wat’s attack went low; he slashed at her calf taking a chunk of meat from her leg. Thorn buckled from the blow and almost lost her balance.
“He’s lying, Thorn,” said Alen. “Lying through his teeth.” He grinned. “Do you want your last words to be lies, wizard?”
Joth plunged a hand into his robe, and as he did, it became obvious to everyone watching that his hands were empty. He came up with a small vial of red liquid and downed it. As he brought the vial down, Alen slashed out with one of his longswords and caught Joth’s hand. Blood sprayed up, covering Joth’s face.
The priest shoved the scroll in his hand back into his bag and rushed to Thorn. He placed one hand over the leg wound and spoke softly. The blood slowed, and Thorn, bracing herself on the priest’s shoulder stood up straight. “You are going to die for that.” She pointed one sword at Wat. “Little traitor. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you, you little shit.” She looked at Mery. “You fuck up everything. Why is that?”
“You left me, as I recall.” Mery swung her sword at Thorn’s face, and her swing was almost as if she was throwing her body fully into the swing. Thorn rocked back on her heels and the tip of Mery’s blade just grazed her cheek.
Wat ran forward and lunged again trying for Thorn’s leg. His blade connected at the same spot. But the woman didn’t fall; she retaliated, swinging her sword in a arc. Wat fell backward in his haste to retreat out of Thorn’s blade reach.
All the frustration and rage that had been building within Isa from the moment she’d found herself stuck in this strange world, all the terror of combat and the gut clenching fright of seeing her own blood pooling on the floor, all of that coalesced into a ball of pure fighting grace, and Isa practically pirouetted toward Thorn with her quarterstaff spinning. She brought the tip of the staff hard across Thorn’s jaw, snapping the woman’s head up. Thorn’s feet left the floor, and when she crashed back down, she was dead.
Isa looked at Thorn’s crumpled form and said, “Fuck.” She thought she might vomit from the cocktail of fear, adrenaline, and relief coursing through her system.
Alen, the bearded man, looked at the 4 of them, looked at the priest, still on his knees, and turned, running toward the front door.
Wat, who was still on his back from his stumble, scrambled to his feet, but Mery said, “Don’t bother, lad. It’s done.” To the priest she said, “The scroll, please. And what did she promise you, for the service?”
“Don’t kill me. I do many good works for Sagarat.”
“I’m sure you do,” Mery replied. “The scroll for us and payment for you. You tried yer best to keep her on her feet; you deserve something for your time and trouble.”
“Sh-she promised 100 gold.”
“Really? That seems awfully reasonable for services such as this. That’s a mighty scroll that you still haven’t handed over, by the way.” Mery’s voice was pleasant, but she stepped closer to the priest. Isa followed her lead and came toward the man with her staff under her arm, the tip pointed at the man.
He pulled the scroll from his bag and with a shaking hand, he held it out to Mery. “Give it to the wizard. Joth? You’ll be making sure it’s the right thing, yeah?”
Joth took the scroll and carefully unfurled it. His eyes scanned the page for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “This is a scroll for the gate spell.”
“Isa, Wat, please watch our friend while I get him his payment.” Mery reached for her coin pouch. After a moment she handed the priest a small bag. “Here’s 150. Please heal my young friend here.” She gestured at Wat. “He got a bit banged up in the fight.”
The priest took the bag, nodded, and put his hand on Wat’s bloody leg and bowed his head. A moment later he raised his head, muttered, “Thank you,” and began to walk toward the door.
“Wait a moment,” Isa said. The priest flinched as if she’d lashed out at him. “Can you heal Joth? The wizard? Look at him.”
Joth really did look worse than any of them. His robe was in tatters from his fight with Alen. “I’m OK, Isa.” But even the hand he used to accompany his words had dried blood on it.
“Of course,” the priest laid his hand on Joth’s shoulder. He turned to look at Isa. “I only have enough godly spirit for 1 healing. I’m sorry.”
Joth put his hand over the man’s hand. “That’s fine. I appreciate the help.”
Isa fumbled with her coin pouch. “Here, let me--”
“It’s fine.” The priest shook his head. He dropped the pouch Mery had given him into Joth’s hand. “Sagarat shine his face on you, on you all.”
Spoiler: Isa's Character Sheet
Name: Isa Chamberlin
Race: Human
Height & Weight: 5ft 6inches / 120 lbs
Class: Fighter Level: 4
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Stranger in a Strange Land
Hit Points: 26 AC: 15
Current Hit Points: 24
Combat: +5 to Hit / +6 on the Quarterstaff
Weapons: Rapier (left hand) 1d8 +3 / Quarterstaff +1 (right hand) 1d6 +3 (bludgeoning)
* Potion of Healing
STR
11
0
DEX
16
+3
CON
11
0
INT
13
+1
WIS
13
+1
CHA
12
+1
Saving Throws: Str and Con +2
5
Acrobatics* (Dex)
1
Medicine (Wis)
1
Animal Handling (Wis)
1
Nature (Int)
1
Arcana (Int)
3
Perception* (Wis)
0
Athletics (Str)
1
Performance (Cha)
1
Deception (Cha)
1
Persuasion (Cha)
3
History* (Int)
1
Religion (Int)
3
Insight* (Wis)
3
Sleight of Hand (Dex)
1
Intimidation (Cha)
3
Stealth (Dex)
1
Investigation (Int)
1
Survival (Wis)
Special Attack: Two weapon fighting. When you engage in two-weapon fighting, you can add your ability modifier to the damage of the second attack.
Class Features:
Second Wind - On your turn, you can use a Bonus Action to regain hit points equal to 5 + your fighter level. Short or Long Rest before you can use it again.
USED Action Surge - On your turn, you can take one additional action on top of your regular action and a possible Bonus Action. You must finish a short or Long Rest before using it again.
Martial Archetype: Surgical Fighter
3rd level - Clinical Eye: Spend 1 combat turn studying your enemy and learn one of the following: if the enemy is equal to or stronger than you in strength, dexterity, or constitution. Can spend up to 3 turns to discern all 3. Can be used outside of combat as a free action - spend 1 minute to learn all three.