“I’m hurt!” The driver called out, an arrow lodged deep in his upper arm. He rolled over and fell down from his cart chair to the ground. He crawls on the dirt to be beneath the cart, to avoid the arrows, in a time such as this the pain subsides and the fear of death is all that takes hold of a person. Not of Fren of course, how could he be the hero if he let’s this deter him?
“Grey, make sure he’s alright, I’ll hold them off.” As unwavering as ever, I had no doubt. Gregory is also braver than I remember, he would freeze or panic but perhaps he changed by the previous adventure, he shakes his head up and down once and immediately gets off and around the cart to meet the scared eyes of the driver.
His brown eyes with small frightened pupils, and blood staining his green shirt. Whimpers that sound like “I don’t want to die.” Gregory doesn’t worry though, he has faith in Fren to defend them.
Fren himself at the same time jumps down with the shield in hand and sword in the other. He needs to face three horseback riders who are almost confused as to why he would face them, and even then why alone? And most of all , what is he doing with a bronze pot lid? A boy with a sword would oppose them, It’s not as though they never killed boys even smaller than him. The middle one positions himself and shoots an arrow directly at Fren and before it hits the target it… bounces off? The rider is in shock. His fellow bandits also shoot and that’s only two more arrows deflected by an odd yellow aura that radiates from the… the pot lid?
Fren may have noticed already but the aura is much bigger now than when he was trying it out with Gregory, It’s likely the danger that acts as a catalyst for Fren to output more of himself. He looks directly at the closest one, the rightmost rider.
On a brown horse with a black man sat a man covered with clothes of black and red, and a piece of red cloth covering most of his face. Black short hair and a scar above his left cheek, his eyes clearly filled with bad intentions for any who meet them. The two locked eyes but because of Fren’s unwavering determination, because his gaze was clearly a hunter who spots his prey in a vulnerable position just before releasing a strike, the rider flinched, a stabbing fear pierced his heart for a split second.
Like the wind, Fren ran forward, much faster than a human should. He’s learning how to use magic! Fren pounces faster than the bandit’s thought he can , the arrows only hit the air behind him. The rightmost bandit manages to shoot a weak arrow that gets deflected by the aura shield, he does not manage to load another, or even tell his horse to turn tail. A giant leap from Fren takes him into the air, higher than the height of the horse. He shoves his sword through the bandit’s chest, and accelerates to the ground with the bandit's body. Fren lands on both his feet, but the bandit falls on his back and fails to move again.
The look on Fren’s face is… confused, or is this fear? Regret? It’s over before I can discern what it is he feels. He now looks on to the two remaining bandit’s as the manless horse runs wild now that his rider is dead.
“Fren! He’s alright. I can help.” Gregory steps from the cover of the cart.
A priest? We could take him hostage… no, we don’t need the church paladins to come for us… Do we run away? The bandit’s thoughts run all over the place. Fren clearly understands they might go for Gregory and closes in on them, stepping closer slowly with sword in hand. But before they can decide what to do an arrow finds it’s place in the middle bandit’s side, who?
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“You won’t get away this time! Filthy Damians!” An alto voice comes from the woods. It’s a woman with a bow and an arrow, brown long hair that was clearly never taken care of, tan skin hiding behind green hooded cape and light brown plain clothes and most peculiar are her eyes, her left eye is a crimson bright red and on the other there is an eye patch.
"Run! Scatter!" The middle bandit cries out and strikes the reins. They both turn away and gallop away on the field of tall grass. Another arrow launches from the girl's bow but it's awkward and misses by a lot.
Fren goes and picks up the arrow then swiftly runs to retrieve it to the bow woman. "Thanks! You're amazing." but when he picks it up, she’s already gone, all that’s left is the arrow in his hand.
The bandit didn’t have many valuables, only a broken bow, his arrows still in his saddle quiver. No armor to note either, but the red piece of cloth used to cover his mouth had a pattern of an eagle. Fren walks back to the horseless carriage with the arrow, now there are two if you count the one just dislodged from the driver’s arm. Gregory stems the blood with a piece of cloth he found inside the cart, he reads from his book a prayer. “...Mercy and bless us with grace and power and life…” his hands glow in a light visible even in daylight and the wound slowly closes. Fren in the meantime looks over at the dead man, it was the first time he ever killed a living human being, it probably felt different than dealing with the mindless undead or the pesty goblins. He might just need to get used to that too, the farther inland they will go the more man on man fighting happens.
“I’m done, it will still hurt but you’ll heal in time, a good night’s sleep should be enough.” Gregory tells the driver and helps him up, his legs are jittery still, and who can blame him after such an event.
“Yeah, where are we going to go now? The horse is loose, and if the Damians don’t come back soon the forest creatures will.” The driver is still frightened.
“Damians, that girl called them that too, who are they?” Fren asks.
“You don’t know? They’re bandits, their leader is called Damian and he’s a thug. That’s why most drivers don’t use this road much anymore, I thought they’ll take a toll but they just attacked out of nowhere.”
“And the girl?”
“The girl?”
“The one who shot this arrow.” Fren holds up the arrow he picked up.
“That… I don’t know, a ranger? Or…”
“Or?”
“I think I heard a few years back about a demonic girl with a red eye from coppercamp, It’s a few milestones down the road and to the east, next to the Yasin river. It’s actually the closest village, I think.”
“We might as well go there, and look for the horse while we’re at it.”
Gregory interrupts the two “I don’t know about you two but I could use something to eat first, healing is a bit exhausting, especially when you don’t get a ‘thank you’.” he say before walking to the field.
“Ohh, sorry. Thanks, you really saved my arm.”
Gregory smirks, "I'm joking, it's fine, that's what priests do." he looks on to the fallen bandit on the field. “I’m going to send off the bandit's soul, could you prepare the food? No turnips for me please, you can have them.”
They sit down on the ground and prepare a small meal, there's barely any room for them on the cart. They have lunch and discuss their next move, while in the shadows of the forest a red eye stares at them, observing.