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Malt the Manslayer
46 - Swept Away

46 - Swept Away

Malt pulled onto the leather strips until his knuckles whitened, making sure that the knot was as tight as could be. He shook his leg around, filling the already hectic room with the sound of rustling mail.

“You sure you can get yourself situated?” The greying man hadn’t as much as taken his eyes off the documents strewn across the desktop, likely having been able to hear Malt’s struggled breaths.

The boy went limp on his ramshackle chair. He took a moment to catch his breath, looking over his partially armoured legs, before answering.

“Ye-, well, probably.” He stood up, taking note of how light his legs felt despite being burdened by such copious amounts of steel and padded fabric. “Is this much really necessary? I mean there should only be, what, ten or so people in the scouting party right? Pretty sure you could take that many yourself.”

His eyes remained focussed on the desk, but Malt could see the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk nonetheless.

“I’m suggesting you wear at least a few layers because I’m going to be there, catch my drift?”

The memory of their last battle resurfaced, and he unconsciously clutched his scar-or at least, where his scar should have been. “Oi oi, you’re not plannin’ to pull something like that again right?” He asked the question only half jokingly.

A chuckle escaped the man’s nose, “I’ll have you know that was a calculated risk, I’d be even worse off than you if you were actually hurt. Loretta would make sure of it.” He placed his hand to the back of his neck as a crack reverberated throughout the cramped room-cavern.

“Well, jokes aside, I’m planning on you being the sole vanguard on this one.”

Malt’s brows furrowed.

“I mean, aren’t I usually?”

Nasir straightened his posture from the table, sauntering over to the door and pulling the slab of steel open. Then entered Anna, carrying a tray laden with various delicate looking cups and such. She placed the tray down, unfazed by the scene around her, and immediately began pouring tea.

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With a thud, the door was locked again, and Nasir returned to his previous activities.

“I meant it more literally this time. I’ll fire off the opening attack, from there you’ll go in and start causing mayhem among the formation.”

Now Malt was struggling with a weighty looking hauberk, which consisted of enough mail to make his eyes glaze over in reluctance. He tried slipping it on like a shirt, but the substantial steel plates riveted into its construction made that approach a no-go.

Through sheer force of will, he managed to wiggle the hauberk on, releasing a steady stream of muttered curses as he did so.

“Why hang back? I wouldn’t think that they’d send their captain or whatever as a scout.”

Anna, seeing him struggle fruitlessly with yet another pair of laces, came over and nudged his hands aside. He opted to sit as still as possible, forearm resting on one knee as she went about her work behind him.

“We can never be too safe, I’ve a bad feeling that masked fellow’s planning something. I’ll at least keep my position hidden until I deem that things clear, then I’ll join you.”

He nodded seemingly absent-mindedly, trying to internalize the plan as it was. Since they’d be attacking at night, coordination amongst the scouts would be nearly non-existent, meaning that he’d only have to deal with individual enemies and stray blows-thus why this seemingly reckless plan was viable, and hence the heavy armor.

He felt a quick pat on his back, muffled by layers of gambeson and steel. He stood with a thank you and began stretching. It was uncanny how unencumbered he felt, especially considering that the setup he was currently wearing was really just a mish-mash of various different armors, more or less haphazardly tied together.

Nasir glanced him over from above the lenses of his glasses, eventually nodding in approval.

“Guess that’ll do. Might need to cast some illusion magic to muffle that incessant clanking though.”

He threw the boy a thick cloak, presumably to somewhat hide his armor.

The man made his way to the other side of the room once again, opening the door before Malt could slip in a complaint, or even finish his tea.

“Come on then, you can finish that when you get back, yeah?”

It always seemed to end like this, with him being swept up along with Nasir’s blistering pace. He looked to Anna apologetically, placing the cup back onto the tray, but it seemed like she was more than used to it.

Slipping on the cloak and tucking a helm under his arm, he set off after the man, sighing as he rushed to match his step.