All right, I’ll admit I still might not be all the way better yet. I was feeling really great after that big lunch, I thought that was what had been missing to get me over that last hump to full recovery, so I took the challenge of the climb in my stride. For the first twenty feet or so. Then reality set in as I felt my muscles starting to hurt again, my joints complaining in a way I haven’t noticed in a very long time. Not since I was a child first starting to learn how to climb back in the mountains. So long ago I’d entirely forgotten what that was even like.

So when I finally dragged myself up that last stretch, having to cling to the drainpipe for dear life while my hands had gotten to shaking something awful and my fingers were screaming at the abuse, I was thoroughly regretting my decision to try this so soon. I was not even remotely surprised to find the others had long since beaten me up, and that the two sentries set up watching in entirely the wrong direction had already been dealt with quickly and deftly by Darwyn and Zuldrad. I was surprised that Yeslee was waiting for me at the top, but not to gloat as I might once have expected, instead determined to help me up onto the roof itself. More so when she gave me a good few moments to get my breathing back under control and find the strength to sit up again before simply asking: “Are you all right?”

I watched her for a good long beat, unsure how to answer, before finally deciding to just swallow my pride. She’s making the effort to be friends with me, so I didn’t want to jinx it. “Humbled, that’s what I am. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this after all.”

“Bollocks.” There was only the slightest quirk to one of her brows to show she felt one way or another about it at all. “If that were the case you probably wouldn’t have made it up at all. You’re just rusty. That’s to be expected after what happened.” She fixed me with a sharp stare, but with no animosity evident in those eyes. “How do you feel now?”

“Sore, and stiff. A little pissed off with myself.” I took a deep breath, but I’ll admit that felt easy enough now. “No, I think you’re right. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Of course.” Getting to her feet, Yeslee started to walk up the slope of the roof as if it was perfectly level. “You know where we’ll be.”

The sheepishness didn’t last, at least. Now I’m just irritated with myself that I didn’t think this through ahead of time. At least my limbs are feeling strong again, even if I haven’t risked trying to stand up again yet. Maybe I’m just worried it might prove too much after all. Instead I take the time to check my gear over one last time and look up, scanning the sky above me.

Maybe another hour and a half of real daylight left, it looks like. I’m not really sure. I’m used to the days being so much shorter than this … but yes, I think the afternoon’s starting to run headlong into evening now. I wonder if waiting for dark might be a smart move after all, but no. The sooner we get to it the less chance there is somebody rumbles us in the meantime while we’re preparing.

So I draw my knees up one last time, swinging my legs round until they’re crossed in front of me, then push forward so I can start leaning my weight onto my feet. Pushing upwards, I start to uncoil my legs at the same moment, and somehow my thighs turn out to be strong enough now I don’t just crash back down on my arse, or worse, maybe pitch myself right over the edge into the alley. We’re four storeys up, there’s a good chance that fall could kill me.

There’s no bout of head-swim like I was expecting, so I count this as reassurance enough I should be all right. Letting the breath I’ve been holding out in a heavy sigh, I turn and look over the crest of the roof ahead of me, judging my next move.

The others are waiting for me, it seems. The door into the building stands on its own, sticking up in a sloping shack with its own slated roof, and there are two bodies sprawled a few feet short of it. From the look of it neither of them even saw what was coming, I suspect the two young prowlers took both out before each knew the other was dead. Yeslee’s already standing in the little stoop in front of the door, which is already thrown open, looking down into … whatever. She’s nocked, but not drawn. Clearly there’s no threat yet. That’s something.

Darwyn and Zuldrad are both checking the bodies, but the hob looks up as I clamber over the ridge and slide down the tiles on the other side with comfortable ease now everything’s responding how I’d like again. “There you are. Feeling better?”

Giving him a particularly sharp look, I stalk over to the bodies, stopping just short so I can give them a careful look. “These are definitely our targets, then?”

Darwyn looks up now, finally dusting her hands off and getting to her own feet. “You weren’t sure already?”

“Gael said it was them, but I just want to be absolutely sure. Unfortunately … these two had to die before we could be sure.” I look down at the one Zuldrad’s still checking.

“It’s them.” Darwyn insists “Same gear, right down to the Guild blades. So even if they ain’t I’m happy to kill everybody here just for having our stuff.”

When I watch her for a long beat, she holds my stare impressively well. She’s got some guts, I’ll give her that. “You ready, then?”

“Zul?”

“Yeah, I’m fine if you lot are.” The hob doesn’t even bother putting his blades away before standing, instead giving both knives a slick little flourish as if he’s raring to get to it now. Finally he looks up at me. “You sorted?”

“Well enough.” I growl back.

“Good.” He nods, more for punctuation than any sign of respect, then turns around and starts across the roof towards Yeslee and the entrance. When I look down at Darwyn again she just shrugs up at me.

“He’s an odd one, sometimes.” she finally sighs.

“No more than any other hobgoblin I’ve ever met.” I give my own shrug when she looks up at me again, cocking her brow. “Before I left the Reaches, my closest friend was a hob. Best man I’ve ever known. He gave his life to protect me.”

That softens her expression some. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” I feel the usual pang as the memories are stirred, but mostly I just feel nostalgic right now. Roe would … yeah, I think he’d be proud of me for what we’re doing. His opinion always meant the world to me, more than almost anyone else I knew, at least besides my mother’s … sighing, I shrug it off at last and look down at my hands, raising them in front of me now so I can check both. Surprisingly steady, no discernible tremors now. That’s good. “Get your game face on, then. It’s time to make our move.”

Nodding, Darwyn looks down and casts about for a moment before finally crouching to pick a stone up from between some of the slates. “Fair enough.” she answers as she straightens up, tossing the stone up once and catching it before winding back and giving it a forceful whip clean over the ridge of the roof behind me. The fact I don’t hear a clatter is probably a good thing, meaning it dropped straight down into the alley as intended to signal to the others that we’re ready to go. Taking a moment to dust her hands off, Darwyn turns back and heads to the others now waiting at the door, and I start to follow.

For a moment I start to draw my sword, then remember what we’re actually about to do and it occurs to me that a long blade might not be the wisest weapon right now. This is going to require some finesse in close quarters. I notice Zuldrad already checking through his own arsenal in order to find the right pair.

I’m more surprised to find Yeslee stowing her bow just inside the overhang of the entrance, then unclipping her quiver rather than having to go through all the fuss of moving layers of clothing around in order to slip out of harnessing. When she sees me frowning she cocks her brow all the way, setting her jaw a little while she seems consider her words. “I’m not staying up here.”

“But we need someone on watch, you know, in case –”

“Why? There’s no-one else up here, and we’re going to be taking care of everyone we meet on the way down. Those two are already dead. And I’m not leaving you without sufficient backup.” Setting her quiver down beside her bow-stave, she thinks for a moment as she straightens up, finally reaching over and drawing the machete-like long knife she keeps at her hip, then sliding that wicked little hatchet out from the small of her back.

Looking to the others, I find Zuldrad as calm as ever, while Darwyn just shrugs, but there’s a little smile on her lips now. She likes the idea, it seems … honestly, so do I. “All right then.”

The corners of her mouth tick up ever so slightly, and she steps aside at last to clear the entrance. “After you, then.”

Right … I almost select the dagger in the small of my back, but change my mind at the last, instead crouching so I can slip my fingers into the inside of my boot and slide the knife free from its concealed holster. This one feels better, the twelve-inch, subtly curved blade seeming the smarter fit for this work. After a beat I reach in on the other side and select its twin as well, although I give this one a little turn in my grip so I can hold it underhand.

Inside the doorway there’s just a staircase leading down, although it just turns off to the left after maybe ten feet. There’s no real light coming from beyond that, but with the sun at our backs now I may just be missing it. Taking a deep breath I start my descent, setting my feet as soft and silent as I can as I go. The fact I don’t hear anyone behind me is strangely comforting, surely this just means they’re simply being as careful as I am. Honestly, Yeslee could be a prowler herself the way she’s so spooky quiet all the time …

There’s a door at the bottom, on the left, so I pause on the landing, holding my breath now as I lean close. It’s open a crack, I can feel a little air through it, but I don’t hear … wait, there’s something, but it’s nowhere close. Voices, muffled, nothing I can discern, from somewhere far below. I listen for a few beats, waiting … and then I hear shouting from much further off, barely able to pick up on this at all. But then there’s an answering bellow from closer, and then more sound. Okay …

Looking over my shoulder, I see Yeslee close behind me, thoughtful now. She nods, and this is simple confirmation for me – her hearing’s much better than mine, I imagine she can hear everything that’s going on in this place surprisingly clear, and she’s picked up on the fresh sounds of alarm and panic picking up throughout the place. That’s it, then. Thel’s made her move, the distraction’s working. Time to go to work.

So I step forward and give the door the gentlest nudge I can manage, leaning into it just enough to be able to peek through as I shift it open a few more inches, silently thanking Thorin that it doesn’t squeak. The corridor beyond is as tight at I would have expected, turning around the corner on my right so I can barely make out most of it from this oblique angle … but this is actually helpful right now. So I just push the door the rest of the way and glide through on featherlight feet.

Stopping just short of the corner, I take another cautious breath and edge as close as I can before chancing a very careful peek around, my fingers tightening on the grips of my knives without my conscious intention now. There’s more sound here now, I can hear people shifting in the rooms on either side of the corridor, and after a beat one of the doors bursts open with much rattled muttering as someone steps out fast, heading straight for the other end of the corridor. Where there’s another staircase going down, it seems.

They’re not moving with anywhere near as much care as I’ve been doing, and the wood in this place all looks to be pretty old, so the floorboards creak loud enough to partially drown out whatever they’re muttering. Another one of these hoods, I realise, although they’re moving with neither cloak nor mask now, so I see they’re human, fairly young, and male. Still strapping on his own swordbelt, although he’s already wearing harness with more blades across his leather armour. The style … yeah, if I was still unsure if these are the same people, catching sight of this Guild gear’s confirmation enough for me we’re in the right place.

More muttering behind the door he just left through warns me there are more coming, and when the door is again thrown open another one steps out, looking even more dishevelled than the last. A young woman this time, broad across the shoulders but not too muscular, and they’re not wearing as much of their leather garb as the others. Obviously she’s decided to move before she finished donning her armour, which is a mistake she won’t live to learn from. I’m already stepping out as she fumbles her own swordbelt, and while she seems as rattled as the other she tips her head back for a moment for a big yawn, signalling she’s definitely been caught napping.

Another one comes through the doorway a beat later, but by then I’m already committed to my attack. This one’s male, fully-dressed but like the one that already left also missing his cloak and mask, so I can see just how young he is when he spots me coming just a breath too late to be able to react. Then again, he’s still holding his own harness, shortsword and handaxe hanging, no hope of being able to draw either in the time he has to respond.

He barely manages to get out a surprised: “What the –” before I sweep his feet. I go in for the kill while his legs skid out from under, jabbing a fast underhand stab right into the side of his throat with my left-hand knife, and I’m already whipping the knife loose as I draw back into a tensed crouch while I ready my next move.

The girl’s picked up on the threat now, but when she turns and starts to draw her sword as she sees me preparing my lunge she’s forgotten about the confines of her surroundings that I already took into account before we started. She gets a foot of steel free and the pommel hits the cheap plaster of the wall beside her, and she’s so worked up with surprise at this whole situation she actually looks down at her trapped weapon as she tries to gauge what the problem is. I just spring forward, surging up as I jump clean over the sprawling legs of my first kill, and ram the full foot of razor-sharp steel through her heart as I wrap my other arm around her back.

When I plant my feet there’s a moment she still has enough strength in her to stay upright, but then she starts to sag and I take up her weight, holding her close as she finally looks up into my face. Our eyes meet and there’s that awful moment when I see the shock and horror of realisation dawning in hers, then that light starts to flicker and the sag in her legs spreads to the rest of her body. I let her down slowly, feeling the lump in my throat and the cold weight settling in my gut while I lower her quickly expiring body to lie across her already deceased companion. That was … not a fun thing to do …

Drawing the knife free again, I try really hard to ignore the gush of arterial blood from her severed aorta pumping free over my knuckles. I’m already studiously working on ignoring the wound itself, instead looking up to judge whether the one who came out first has continued to descend or heard enough of a commotion here to double back and check. So I’m a little distracted when I just barely acknowledge that someone else has come through the door on the other side of the hallway.

The first I know that Yeslee’s already taking care of that threat is when I hear the subtle whoosh and much louder thwack of her hatchet catching them before they can attack my exposed, crouching back. Then I’m slipping my left arm out from under the girl’s corpse to let her finally settle and turning enough on the balls of my feet to look over my shoulder, and I see Yeslee already shoving the tensed form of a half-orc male into the wall. Seems he was halfway through drawing his sword when she lodged the nasty hooked beard of her hatchet into the side of his skull, and his fingers are still holding the hilt in a death grip as she yanks her weapon free, stepping back without ceremony to let him drop. For a beat he just stays where he is, crumpled against the wall with a look of total surprise on what’s left of his face, then gravity starts to win and his body topples forward. And his sword-arm continues to draw as the body goes down.

I have to scramble to jump back out of the way enough to dodge the swinging sword as that now limp arm performs a surprisingly lethal slash through the air that nearly decapitates me. I see Yeslee’s eyes widen somewhat as she realises how close she came to accidentally killing me as the body flops down, and I’m left slumped against the other wall now with my knees up, breathing hard. “Fuck …” I manage to breathe, looking up at her now.

“Shit …” Yeslee looks down at me now, and I can see regret subtly writ across her face. “Sorry.”

It takes me a moment or two to muster enough composure to push myself upright again, and I use the time to find my words again. “No, it’s … fuck, that was just crazy shit luck. That wasn’t your fault.”

A small form slips in under Yeslee’s arm in the sudden lull and I almost attack in my own surprise, but I’m quick enough checking myself as I recognise Darwyn, who ignores this mess and goes to the door on my right, ducking inside so she can clear the room. Another beat and Zuldrad moves between both of us so he can reach the other, barely looking at me as he goes so I can see he he’s at least acknowledging what just happened here. Then he’s inside the other room.

“That was … nice clean work.” Yeslee finally whispers after a few more moments.

“Thanks.” I ram the tip of my knife into the wall and let it stick so I can shake my hand and try and lose some of the excess blood. “Didn’t enjoy it.”

“I’d worry if you did.” Yeslees steps up to me now, looking down with a surprisingly solemn expression now. “You have a good heart, Shay. That’s why Kesla trusts you.”

I watch her for a long moment, more surprised than ever. “Is it?” I’m sure I sound a good deal more suspicious than I intended to, but it’s out now.

To her credit, if Yeslee picks up on it she doesn’t let it faze her. “I think so, yes. We don’t tend to talk about these things, it’s simply my own observation.”

Baffled by this new information, especially given the source, I don’t pick up on Darwyn ducking out of her room until she clears her throat while giving the still clean blades in her hands a seemingly unnecessary inspection. “Nobody in there.”

At least I catch Zuldrad ducking out of his own door a moment later, and he’s taking a moment to wipe blood from the single dagger in his hand on a scrap of cloth. “This one, on the other hand …”

Seeing him doing that reminds me of my own blade, so I turn and pluck it from the wall again, taking a moment to give it a quick whip to get rid of the excess. When I look up now I see Yeslee’s turned her attention to the stairs at the end of this narrow corridor, and I swear I see her ears twitching a little now. She’s listening to the sounds coming from below, which honestly aren’t very hard to pick up on anyway. Whatever’s going on down there’s got the whole place mobilising. Which was the idea, but still …

“Best get on if we’re gonna catch him in time.” Zuldrad tosses the rag away. “Y’know, ‘fore he gets his skull split open.”

“Thel said she’d do her best to take him alive.” I remind him.

“And that’s definitely gonna be enough to rein her in, right? Given how hot she is to finally win that fight, I mean.” Damn it, the way he looks at me now just reminds me so much of Roe, I feel another pang. That old hob was too good at getting right to the heart of the matter.

Chancing a look at Yeslee, I’m disheartened to see her simply cock a brow back at me, telling me she already knows the answer. “Shit. We’d better move.”

“All right, then.” Darwyn doesn’t even blink as she just runs straight for the stairs, and I’m still amazed she doesn’t make a sound doing it. Setting my jaw, I follow, and hope nobody below us is paying enough attention to take note of it. If they do, with a bit of luck they might think it’s just these stragglers …

Darwyn’s already well ahead of me as I start to climb down, and the case is tight and steep enough I can’t just sprint it with my much bigger feet. As it is I’m still wary enough to listen hard for whatever’s going on ahead now, and while there’s general disorder and an increasing amount of fear spreading now, I hear something closer that gets my blood pumping again. A shout, then the sound of a severed throat bubbling and a body slumping with a clatter of metal. Somebody else is dead or dying now, and I can’t see Darwyn.

I don’t even try to stay quiet now, I just jump the final third of the stairs and brace best I can when I land. My ankles hold, but while my touchdown was perfect enough I’m still carrying too much momentum, and I have to turn my shoulder fast to keep from hitting the wall ahead of me face-first. When I bounce I go through the doorway with it, then there’s somebody in front of me and I don’t even think as they spot me coming, I just go with my momentum now.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The sword swing comes so close I feel the air of it passing as I tuck and roll past my would-be attacker, and I lash out with my underhand blade as I go, raking it low across the side of his leg, biting deep as I can. The human, I realise now as I come back up on the end of the roll, squawks with pain as he stumbles, shorn hamstring giving out while he tries to turn, and he’s already starting to drop when I spin around and draw a swift, deep slash across his throat with my right-hand blade. The blood’s already gushing before he even realises he’s been tagged, and by this point he’s already dropping like a stone, while I simply skip off past him, looking for Darwyn.

There are two more bodies already crumbled ahead of me as I turn the corner, one still twitching as they try in vain to keep the blood inside their throat, and up ahead I finally spot her. It’s actually the first time I’ve really gotten a proper look at her actually fighting, I realise, and it’s sobering to witness.

She has three more of them around her, but if they thought they were going to simply overpower her she’s already efficiently disabused them of this notion. As I watch she hacks the knees out from under one of them with two swipes that are so wickedly fast I largely miss it actually happening, and as the half-orc woman drops in stunned pain she follows through with two swift jabs into her stomach. Perhaps it’s just sheer speed, but she punctures that leather plate like it’s nothing more than fine cloth both times.

The other two attempt to bum-rush her, but it looks like they’re not taking their surroundings into account any better than the girl I fought earlier, so one of them gets shoved aside by the other and bounces right off the wall right next to him. He’s got nowhere to go on the return but right into his companion’s side, and they both go down in a tangle while Darwyn dances away, watching them fumble with clear contempt.

Then one of the doors she’s already passed gets torn open, and this time the body that spills out is already prepared for a fight. This one’s pretty big, a human male with broad shoulders who’s already fully armoured, and he’s got his longsword drawn already as he steps out. He sees Darwyn, but she’s still contending with these two idiots so she doesn’t know there’s another threat so close …

So I just duck forward, already coming in at a low sprint before he can pick up on the sound of my careless boots pounding the cheap floorboards. I take a breath and hold it as I draw close, and draw back to cock a low thrust with my right, already marking the vulnerable spot under his right arm as he starts to approach with his sword held low. I don’t want him to hear me panting too and maybe tip him off any more than I just can’t avoid.

Except that one of the boards under me chooses just the right moment to give a loud, stomach-dropping squealing creak as the ball of my foot taps it, and that ruins what little stealth I’ve managed up to that point. He stiffens instantly, and he’s too sharp, he starts turning immediately. Shit … abandoning my planned attack, I just skip to the right and try to wind around behind him, out of sight, before he can clock me when he turns. But then he’s already well aware I’m here –

The sword-swing is unexpected, he doesn’t even take the time to check if this is actually an enemy charging up behind him, he just snaps around fast and powers a massive backhanded slash right for me. I really don’t have time to try anything fancy, I just pull my feet up and drop on the spot, my momentum carrying me forward as I land on my tucked back so his sword whistles harmlessly right over me. I hit the floor harder than I’d like but my new armour takes the brunt of it, and maybe it’s just the deceptively slick smoothness of the mail, or just sheer luck, but my momentum makes me slide right for his closest leg. And he hasn’t adjusted his position yet as the missed stroke starts to unbalance him …

So I just kick out my feet and smash both into his ankle. The impact kills a fair chunk of the speed I’m carrying, but I’m still moving quick enough as I slew around in the other direction now, so when he crashes down with an almighty thump I’m already well gone from underneath him. I ball myself up as best I can and when I finally careen into the wall I just bounce off, but I’m not so shook that I can’t still roll over and get a knee under me while checking I’m in one piece. Amazed I still have both knives in my hands.

Someone else comes through the door he just cleared before his foiled attack, and the first thing they must see is this craziness. It’s enough to check this human male, who’s smaller than the one I’m currently engaged with, and when he blinks, wide-eyed, as he tries to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of him, not to mention whatever Darwyn’s up to behind me, it’s enough for Yeslee. She just steps up behind him and, cool as she is with everything else, she just stabs her knife into his back.

Grunting, the big man’s rolling onto his side, already scrabbling for his discarded sword as he works on getting his legs under him now. That landing clearly hurt him, but not enough, he’s recovering too quick now. So as he starts to push himself upright and looks my way I don’t even bother trying to get myself on my feet now, I just bunch my haunches up good and tight and hurl myself forward into a low, barrelling spring.

He sees me coming, there’s no way I can stop that, and this is a ballsy move. I manage to get my foot under me just enough to control where I’m going as I shove up off the floor and jump, swinging my underhand blade up to jab down onto him however I can when I hit … except that he realises what I’m doing so he just throws his body to the left and I mostly miss him. And he’s whipping his sword up to catch me as I pass …

He should cut me in two, it’s a beautiful move and I’m wide open. Instead his blade strikes the scales armouring my midsection, and with a subtle steely clink the edge is stopped dead. I bring up my other arm at the same time, whipping my left down as fast as I can above it, and trust that the armour covering my wrists is just as strong as I trap the blade between them. Then my momentum wins out and I plummet … and I take him down with me.

I keep my legs tucked up, tensing in anticipation of the pain that I’m about to inflict on myself as I smash down on the boards with my tailbone … which is why the fact that I just bounce with a thumping crack and barely even feel it is such a surprise. My opponent, meanwhile, is yanked bodily off his feet and smashes down on the floor for a second time, letting out another winded gasp as the air gets forced out of him all over again. And I think this time I hurt him more because he doesn’t move right away.

His hands go limp so it takes me no real effort to wrest the sword away from his loose fingers, and as I throw the weapon aside I twist, bringing my closer boot around to smash into his face while it’s conveniently placed on the floor. Just in time for the door directly to my left to swing inwards.

We’ve been making far too much noise for whoever’s still in any of these rooms to miss it now, so anyone who comes from here on is going to be ready for us. I pull back in on myself fast, getting my feet under me so I can crouch low, ready for whatever’s coming … just in time for the male half-orc who charges out at me to catch Yeslee’s hatchet square in the middle of his face. I can’t help it, I actually wince seeing that, his skull just folds from the impact with a spray of blood and pulped brains and bone. The rest of him does the same a moment later when she yanks her axe free again.

“You done over there?” I hear Darwyn call out, and when I look up she’s already making for the next staircase at the other end of the corridor, while the two remaining fighters she was contending with are now slumped against either wall ahead of me. One’s bleeding profusely from several gushing stab-wounds in his torso, eyes already glazed, while the other’s close behind now, his hand slipping from his slashed throat as he finally gives up on trying to stem the faltering flow. The female half-orc, on the other hand, is doubled over on the floor now, shivering as she fights to hold her guts in.

“Damn it, wait!” I shout after her as I scramble upright, starting after her now. “Darwyn!”

It’s no good, she’s already ducking down the stairs. I take another step forward, then remember the others, turning back instead. Zuldrad’s ducking through the door on the left as I turn, and I hear violence erupting inside the moment he’s in, while Yeslee just looks my way, flicking her hatchet into the side of the head of the man I knocked down as he starts trying to get up again. She’s already looking at me like she knows what I’m about to say.

“Clear this floor. I’ve got to –”

“Go.” Yeslee nods, no reproach at all in her face, at least so far as I can see. “Make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”

I don’t bother replying, just dashing off after the halfling. Gods … even if she doesn’t get herself killed I just might do it myself.

This time round I don’t even bother trying to be careful on the stairs, I just throw myself down them as recklessly as I dare, making sure I hold my knives as far out as the cramped confines allow in case I do take a tumble so I don’t stab myself. If I even could, that is – so far my new armour’s holding up spectacularly, I’m amazed not only by how easily I shrugged off that attempted disembowelment but also that I didn’t batter myself with all that falling down I did. Thank you Master Stormshield, your beautiful work is much appreciated …

Jumping down the last half dozen steps, this time I angle the spring so I plough clean through the door when I throw myself into a roll. Just in time to barge right through the legs of someone who’s charging for the stairs, probably intent on intercepting us before we could make our way down. I don’t even bother turning to attack as I hear the loud crunch of their neck snapping as I manage to flip them right over me entirely by accident, instead just keeping up my forward momentum now as I clear the corner.

Fuck … Darwyn’s surrounded. There’s half a dozen around her, and while some are hanging back, duly rattled by her impressive knife work, others are pressing her hard already. As I start running before I’m even up I see her carve out the knees of one like before, but as she does it another behind her makes a swipe for the back of her head, and it’s either her training or just dumb luck that has her twisting her head aside at just the right moment. Instead the blade just shears through a few locks of hair, and she twists fast, rounding on her new attacker just in time to parry another swipe from his shortsword which probably would have struck home if he’s had more time to recover.

When I saw her upstairs, Darwyn was in her element, she was lethal and she knew she could take those three easily. But now … she’s in over her head, she’s drowning and she knows it. Her time is numbered in minutes, maybe less, and she’s scared. I can see it, she knows how fucked she is.

So I don’t even bother trying to actually fight when I come to the first one, I just put my left shoulder forward and barge into him and keep on moving when I make contact as I shove him hard to the side. I don’t relent until I’ve pounded him hard into the wall, giving one last heavy shove as I crush him into the plaster, and while it cracks and dents it’s at least strong enough it doesn’t just give way right there. But it’s not hard enough to actually really damage him either, so I follow through by ramming my right-hand knife all the way through armour gap under his arm, not stopping until I’m in to the hilt.

The others are starting to wake up to this fresh threat, though, and one of the others is already coming for me. A half-orc, a big one, strong and fast, and unlike most he’s not fucking around, he’s packing a battleaxe. Shit … he’s not bothering with finesse either, he just rushes me and swings the fucking thing right at me.

All I can do is duck, so I throw myself aside, not even bothering to drag my knife free as I go, just leaving it stuck into the first fighter, and while he’s still taking in the fact I’ve just stabbed him he’s got a whole new problem as the axe-swing hard into his collarbone. He chokes, coughing up blood as he starts to slump, while his accidental killer is suddenly trapped as he realises his own weapon’s stuck in one of his friends. And I’m already moving to deal with this new threat.

Turning my remaining knife in my hand, I flick it deftly to my leading hand and duck in quick under the half-orc’s arm before he realises he’s already fucked. Before he can break away and try to pull another weapon or even just dodge, I slash the knife across the inside of his closer elbow, then twist as I duck under while he yelps, more in shock than real pain right now. He’s realised his predicament now, but as he stumbles back his left arm is useless and his right hand goes to the gushing wound without his higher-brain bidding it to first, meaning that when I come back in he’s entirely defenceless. So when I ram my knife into the side of his throat all he can do is gawk.

Pulling free before the wound can start to spume, I dance back, concentrating on the third one as they start to focus on me. This one’s a woman, human, close to my height and build, close-cropped, somewhat spiky hair and thorny tattoos crawling up either side of her neck from under her armour, while I can see more peeking out from under her gloves, riding up her fingers. She’s armed with a longsword, but the blade’s thinner, more like the one I used to fight with, which I gave to Art to replace the one Ashsong broke. As she takes me in she reaches across to her right hip and slips the long-knife there free, and I know right away this one is going to be trouble. The way she shifts her stance, the look on her face as she sizes me up, prowling forward but at a flanking angle, not just engaging me straight … yeah, she’s like me, a proper swordfighter.

Looking down at the bloody knife in my own hand, I realise this is not going to work in this situation. Against a less skilled opponent I could do it, I could get in under their reach by being sneakier and more focused, and definitely faster, I could cut them down or stab them a few times and then duck away before they could respond, let them bleed out. Not this one, she won’t let me get close enough to engage her with my much shorter blade. She’s got the reach, and likely the skill to make short work of me before I can even get close.

Instead I raise the knife between us, showing it to her, and as she focuses on it I whip it hard at her face. It’s a deft throw, if I kill her with this I’ll be happy with it, but I really don’t expect to catch her like this … and she’s too sharp for it, she ducks aside just in time, flicking her sword up as she does to knock it aside.

But by then I’m already feinting to the other side, and with my strong hand free now I go for my sword. I’m trying to pay attention to what I’m doing so I don’t foul my draw as I skip close to the wall, and instead of trying to slide my sword outwards I instead twist my arm along with my body so I can swing it in the same motion. If I do this right maybe I can cut her head off as I flick the sword across her throat.

She’s too sharp for that, instead managing to parry my cut before I can finish it, but she’s still surprised by the attack, and she has to stumble back to avoid me unbalancing her on my follow-through. Wheeling around so I can keep her in my sights, I tighten up, holding my sword low now as I start to circle her, hoping I can maybe force her back the way I’ve come, all the time mindful that means I’m putting my back to the others.

Whatever, I’ve made a hell of an impression on her with that one move, and she’s watching me with real caution now, eyes narrowed to slits as she takes two very large, careful steps back, hoping to open ground between us. I just move right after her, not letting her get comfortable, determined to deny her the opportunity to find an advantage, but I’m not prepared to attack either. I’m going to wait her out now.

For a long beat we just watch each other, moving gently, cautiously, looking for any opening to press. I see her think about instigating an attack twice, and I shift just right both times, stopping her before she can start. I see her eyes flickering about now, looking for any help, but the way they keep coming back to me tells me there’s nobody coming to back her up right now. Finally I just wear her down, I think.

She feints and I see straight through it, so when she comes in earnest I’m ready for it. I make it look like I’m going to intercept her blade, but when she suddenly ducks aside and tries for what she expects to be my exposed side I’m already turning into her lunge, and I flick the blade aside with a low, deft swipe that follows through along the inside of her wrist. She hisses deep as my blade carves clean through her bracer like it’s made of cloth, and she can’t help dropping her sword in surprise. She’s got enough focus all the same to try to make up for it with an attack in my side with her knife as I draw in close, but I’m too quick for her.

My thrust would do my father proud, I know it. The lunge is timed with precision, all my weight focused on my front foot while the back is stretched out behind for balance, and that desperate stab just punches empty air behind my back as I extend. Because I put every ounce of my strength into the jab, Ashsong’s sword rams through her heart right up to the hilt.

As she’s stuck there, unable to drop now she’s pinned in mid-air by the blade, our eyes meet, and it seems to dawn on her that she’s dead moments before they glaze over and the knife slips from her limp fingers. I yank the sword back fast and hard, and I imagine it’s the unholy sharpness of the blade that makes it so easy to glide it free withing dragging the corpse along with it. Instead the body falls in a tangled heap like a discarded ragdoll, and I can’t even look at it now as I want to vomit …

Instead I just give the sword a good hard whip to the side to get it a little cleaner, having to turn somewhat to avoid just jamming it into the wall, then turn to face whoever’s coming next from Darwyn’s fight … only to find there’s no-one else. The halfling’s just slumped against the wall, not quite sagging to the floor but it looks like she might be about to as she breathes heavy, head down, her knives dangling at her side from her hands. Fuck … she looks rough right now.

For a moment I almost go straight to her, but I really don’t want to spook her right now, and the sight of me, bloody as I am now, especially with my blade still slick red, might be a bit much right now. So I hold back, trying to give the sword another little swing to clean it off a little more, but when I finally just take a look at it I realise that the blade’s already starting to drink again. Shuddering at the thought, I suck down a very uncomfortable breath and, much against my training, sheathe the nasty dirty blade back in its scabbard. Given the enchanted steel’s unique properties I think I can rest assured there’s no danger of this sword sticking.

Looking down at myself, I find that my armour’s escaped the worst of the spray from the fight, my gloves seem to have caught the worst of it this time. There’s not much I can do about that, not without a clean rag or a basin of water … instead I just clench my fists and take a deep breath as I take a few hesitant steps towards her. “Um … Darwyn? You … okay there?”

She doesn’t respond, not right away, but I can see she’s … not in a good way right now. Unlike me she’s absolutely covered in blood right now, but from what I can tell none of it’s her own, she doesn’t seem to have been cut, her armour’s intact. Not for lack of her attackers trying, though, I’m sure. No, she’s just … gods, she’s shivering now, she looks like a terrified little puppy right now, scared out of her mind, and now I can hear the hitching in her breath, the way it’s shuddering as much as her body.

“Darwyn …” Very carefully, moving slow and hesitant now, trying to seem as small a threat as I can, I get down on my knees and reach out with my hands, but stop short of her arms when I speak again. “Darwyn, sweetheart, are you okay?”

When she finally looks up her eyes are as wet as the Untermer coast, tears having cut clean track-lines through the blood on her cheeks, and she’s still weeping as she sniffles, her face on the verge of creasing up now. “I … I … I was … I’m …” Her voice is so thick and husky now, this is as clear an indicator that she’s about to break down as anything else. Then the knives just slips from her fingers and stick in the floor and she starts to slump, already starting to bawl, and I just lean forward as I scoop her into my arms and pull her into a tight hug.

As she starts to sob into my shoulder I press her a little closer, but I still try to be as gentle as I can, mindful of the fact that, despite what I’ve seen of her clear capabilities, I’m still much bigger and stronger than her. I shush her quietly, then start quietly humming that gentle lullaby I remember from when my mother used to do this for me when I was really young. And then again, more than once, for those three months after my father left, when I’d suddenly wake up in the night screaming from nightmares I could never recall.

Now, like then, it seems to work, slowly. Darwyn starts to calm, by tiny increments, but it’s working. So when I see movement through the corner of my eye I’m mindful that I might have to pull away and fight again, until I catch a glimpse of Yeslee stepping up behind my new would-be attacker. She moves as silent as ever, but so casually it’s like she just doesn’t care, and as the young half-orc slips his shortsword out he’s not even aware she’s behind him into she‘s buried her hatchet into the back of his skull.

“A little more caution might be called for right now.” she muses as she shucks the axe out of the wound again, letting the body crumple at her feet like she’s just dumping some trash. In the same instance I see Zuldrad skip past her from behind, slipping into the room her kill just stepped out of, immediately followed by further sounds of surprised violence.

“Circumstances rather put me on the spot.” I manage keep my tone as level as I can, but I don’t actually feel any real antipathy from the Fir Bolg, who just whips her hatchet clean again as she steps closer. She’s looking at Darwyn now, and I can tell she gets it.

The halfling must finally sense what’s happening, because she gently pushes me away. Her breathing’s slower now, no more hitching, and as she reaches up to wipe her face she sniffs hard to clear her sinuses again. Her cheeks are still deeply flushed under the blood though, and she looks … honestly, thoroughly mortified. “Fuck … I’m sorry. That was so stupid …”

“Don’t worry about it.” I keep my hands on her shoulders, giving them a little squeeze now as I try to reassure her. “Come on, you did pretty good there, actually.”

“I was gonna die. Like a complete moron.” She sniffs again as she wipes the back of her bracer unceremoniously under her nose, her lip still trembling a little. “Even Art wouldn’t have done something that stupid.” She blinks away the lingering tears as she looks up at me now. “You … you saved my life.”

Honestly, I want to wave it off, reassure her that she’s just being over-dramatic, that actually she could have been all right anyway … but she’s right, if I hadn’t been here they would have cut her to pieces. So I just reach up with my left hand and cup her cheek, gently lifting her face so she looks me in the eyes, and keep smiling. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise.”

Sniffing on more time, Darwyn gives her face a final wipe with both hands and tries a smile, which seems to pass muster. “Okay. Okay, I reckon … I’m okay.”

I really have to resist the urge to reach up and ruffle her hair now like I’d probably do to Art, I really don’t think she’d appreciate it in the same way. Instead I nod with finality and give her shoulder a last little squeeze before I let her go at last, finally stepping back onto my feet as I straighten up. When she stoops to retrieve her knives I realise that Yeslee’s still stood by, closer than I would have expected, looking very thoughtful indeed now.

“What?” I try not to sound like I’m frustrated with her, keeping my voice level, and I think it works. When she doesn’t answer I shift my stance, and I can’t help frowning.

“These are yours, I believe?” Holding up both my knives by the blade so she can offer me the handles, I’m a little surprised by how carelessly she’s handling that naked steel. I keep all my blades good and keen, sharp enough to shave with if I felt inclined to, but she’s just casually holding both in one hand like it’s nothing.

“Thanks.” I finally say, reaching out and taking both together as much in fear she might slip at the last and cut herself after all. It’s only once I’m slipping one into my left hand that I realise they’re both already wiped clean. When I look up at her again Yeslee just shrugs, and there’s that unreadably elusive smile touching her lips again.

“How are we doing?” I ask at last, looking past her at Zuldrad now as he ducks out of the other room where he’d just ducked into a little before. He cocks a brow at me now as he just shrugs, although the effect’s somewhat lost with bloody daggers clutched in both hands.

“Nobody in there, killed two in the other room. Keep going?”

Turning back the way we’ve been heading, I notice that Darwyn’s frowning down at the mercs she killed in her own desperate struggle now. I don’t think she’ll be so keen to run off ahead this time. As I look past her I perk up my ears again, and I can still hear the sounds of violence coming from below, but closer now. Now I also hear the odd pop and crackle that can only be Gael using their magic. A particularly heavy boom makes the whole place shake, setting quite a lot of dust loose from the ceiling above us.

“You good? Darwyn?” I ask the halfling now, but she doesn’t respond right away, still looking down at the bodies. She jerks when I say her name, though, and after a moment looks my way at last.

For a long beat she doesn’t answer, but her eyes are dry now, narrowing as I watch her, and her jaw set. “Well enough. Considering.” Her grip tightens on both her knives now.

I find my own fingers responding in kind as I look down at my own daggers, and I turn to look at the other two again. Yeslee must know what I’m thinking, I’m really not hiding it, but she doesn’t say anything, no more than I ever expected her to. But she nods, and I think that’s significant enough. Like she’s finally comfortable with following my lead here.

“All right, let’s keep going. Before Thel murders that poor bastard by accident.”