Chapter 205: Bandits, Thieves, and Ne’er-do-wells

Ann blinked. Ten people surrounded them. Five had crossbows, the rest had some form of melee weapons. All of them were standing further back, menacing. A particularly big man was leading the crew. A scar running from his bald head down in an ugly slash across his nose and onto his cheek. He had to be seven feet tall. Maybe some Mulsfar blood in him?

“I said get down!” He bellowed.

“Kat?”

“Get down,” Kat whispered loud enough only Ann could hear. Her eye was scanning the group, flicking left and right as she took in the party. “Fer now. Dinnae how many more o’ ‘em are in the trees.”

The five fell to their knees. Ann held her hands behind her head. It wouldn’t obscure her gauntlets, but it might delay a little.

“I said to drop your weapons!”

Kat chucked her new cudgel and shield out in front of her. Unbuckling her belt, her sword followed.

Lucia growled at the man.

An arrow whizzed past her, sailing into the Seed.

She put Fillianore down gently.

“That means you too, freak,” the man barked, clearly looking at Ann.

“My good man, insults need not come into this. Do as he says, Annita,” Bren instructed.

Ann unbuckled and tossed her gauntlets forward, then her pouch with the knives and her revolver.

“Now that we are unarmed…”

“You too, goat and human,” the man interrupted.

“I have no weapon.”

“N-neither d-do I,” Rosalyn stammered.

“If I did, it would be of no use to me. I am a healer,” Bren continued.

“Fine. Pick the shit up. We want your valuables. You so much as blink and we’ll kill you.”

Ann felt her chest clench. She had a ton of magic stuff on her. They would take her coffee cup from her cold, dead claws. Then there was the journal, Rosalyn’s, Bren’s ring, wand, and all the other magically enhanced things. They could probably scrape together some of it, should it be taken, but not the books, nor Fillianore.

Several people approached, weapons ready.

“Don’t try anything,” a woman’s voice warned under a bundle of rags.

They roughly pulled Ann’s pack off her back, doing so to the rest as well. All five of them stayed where they were kneeling.

“Damn, look at the pretty one,” a woman catcalled. “Shame we can’t take her too.”

“Stop thinking with your dick,” a guy laughed.

“May I speak?” Bren interjected.

“Don’t see why not. Got nothing else you’re gonna be doing,” the leader said, walking up. He was even bigger than Ann thought at first, with a massive barrel chest and thick arms. Clearly he’d won his position through his strength.

“We do not have much of value. Definitely not in coin.”

“You just walked out of a Seed in good health. You’ve got valuables no matter what you say, and we’re going to have them.”

“Yes, yes, I understand that part,” Bren sighed. “The point is, you will not be able to hold them. Not for long. Nor will you be able to sell most of it.”

“The fuck you mean, pretty boy?” the leader growled, crouching down to Bren’s level.

“My name is Bren. Might I have the courtesy of knowing yours?”

“You can call me Durge.”

“Durge? I assume that is not your given name?”

“Nah, just what you’ll call me. So what did you mean, we can’t sell this?”

“Well, you could try. I doubt the Inquisition would take long to find you, though.”

“Inquisition?” the man’s face blanched. “The fuck do those freaks have to do with this?”

“Everything. Please, take a look at who you have on their knees again. I am certain even you should have heard some of the news while in town.”

The leader scowled, and scanned the group’s faces, then locked on to Kat’s. “Well I’ll be a Tumbledung’s ass. You Princess Farragher?”

Nervous looks rippled through the group of bandits.

“Feckin’ right I am.”

“Damn, they really got you. Couldn’t even get the eye back. That makes you all even more valuable.”

“Again, a poor line of thought.”

“What is he, your speaker or somthing?” Durge asked Kat, glaring at Bren.

“Nae, he’s just got the fancy words. I agree wit’ ‘im though. Ye’re makin’ a mistake thinkin’ hostages’ll be worth shite ‘ere.”

“Way I see it, Queen just barely kept her husband. Now we have her kid? That’s gonna make us rich if we can ransom you.”

Chuckles from the crowd.

“While not wrong, you would be dead before the first round of negotiations. We ran away. The Inquisition is likely hunting us in any population centre. You mention that you have any of us, and they will turn this forest upside down to find us.”

Durge scowled. “So, what, you’re valuable, but can’t be ransomed. Your shit is valuable, but they’re looking for it.”

“Aye,” Kat nodded.

Durge stood and walked back to his group. Ann caught low whispers as their guards held them at crossbow point.

“Wait,” one guy said. “If she’s the princess, then that makes you the Chosen, yeah?”

“What?” Durge whipped his head around.

“Yeah. Was the same day as the assassination. Girl wit’ wolf ears an’ sommat making a big talk that Orenous chose her.”

“Fuck my mother,” Durge groaned and returned to his huddle.

“Yup, that’s me,” Ann smiled. “Sorry, I don’t have the purples on today. Wasn’t supposed to be an official meeting.”

“Huh,” was all the man said back.

“Still want a turn with her?” the woman jeered, elbowing the man.

“More, now,” he chuckled. “The Orenous Temple’s known for being sluts. Imagine what their Chosen can do.”

Fuck. Ann had been praying that they weren’t this type. Of course they were. Of course they thought that the temple was all about fucking. Of course they’d see her as the best of all that. Fear raced through her veins like ice as she realised what was probably about to happen.

“The goat’s pretty cute, too.”

“Dumbass, she’s a sheep,” a woman laughed.

Yeah, that was probably the worst part. Equal representation scumbags.

“Alright,” Durge barked. “We can’t sell you, we can’t sell your shit, we can’t let you leave. Sell you, we’re found and killed. Sell your shit, we’re found, you’re found, we’re dead. Let you go, you report us, and we’re dead. So now we’ve gotta kill you.”

Whoops sounded throughout the trees.

“Hey, boss! Can we have a little fun with them first? Pretty boy looks like he’d be a great romp!”

“I want the Thrundol! Look at those glares!”

Ann felt rage boil inside her. Her fists clenched. She heard the leather of Kat’s gloves creaking as the woman barely held herself back.

“Shut your traps,” Durge shouted back at his crew. “We do this right. No traces. Chuck them back in as soon as we’re done. Get your whoring done in town.”

“Or,” Bren said, his tone completely relaxed. “You can simply let us leave after swearing an oath not to harm you. This can all be a misunderstanding, and we can go our own ways. No need for bloodshed. I would hate for…” he wiggled side to side, craning his neck, “eighteen lives to be lost today?”

“Eighteen… what? The fuck’re you on about?” Durge shouted. “Only gonna be five bodies. Yours!”

“Hardly, my good man. I am trying to save lives here. I do tend to try my best to reduce casualties. It is my job. My companions, on the other hand, are not so genteel. So please reconsider before you do something you will come to regret.”

“You’ll just be another corpse in the Seed. Another party lost to the Warped, like so many before,” Durge laughed. The group behind him echoed their boss.

Ann watched crossbows rise, steel-tipped arrows focused on them. No guns. Lucky. The group might not be outfitted well enough for that.

Kat’s feet shuffled in the icy dirt.

Bren let out a protracted sigh.

“Kill them.”

The twang of a dozen crossbows hit Ann’s ears. She moved.

Kat charged forward, straight at Durge, the man laughing as he met her.

Ann was running to the left. Arrows tried to hit her, but barely grazed her skin. Getting behind a tree, she chanced a glance back. Bren had an array of shields covering the rest, and Rosalyn had her staff in hand.

Mixed cries of surprise and anger came from the woods. Ann used Fade Away and stalked through the trees. Somewhere she heard a scream, but she couldn’t focus on that.

“Fucking knew this party was trouble,” one of the bandits yelled, reloading.

Ann hit him hard in the back of the head. It bounced forward, but didn’t knock him out. Ann pulled out her claws and aimed to finish the job when she saw his face.

Ann hesitated.

He was young. Barely an adult by the patchy beard and wisp of a moustache. Younger than them. His eyes widened in fear as he saw what was coming, sweat running down his forehead as his hands trembled.

Pain bloomed in her stomach. She looked down. The crossbow was empty. A bolt was sticking out of her.

Shock, more than fear, caused her to stumble backwards, hand clutching the bolt.

“I’ve got the wolf one!” the bandit yelled.

Ann ran. Her heart pounded in her ears as she rounded a tree, then another. Claws scrabbled at bark as she climbed up. Perched there, she clutched her head. Her breathing came in short gasps as she tried to calm herself.

He’d just been so… normal. It was a person. A man. Sure, he might be scum, but he’s not some twisted creature. A bad person, but still a person. That question from back in Korvas came back to hit her like a truck. Could she kill someone? If she really had to, could she? She probably needed to right now. Rosalyn was all they had for offence. Lucia’s gun was taken, and so were Kat’s weapons. She was fistfighting the leader right now, and Ann was stuck in a tree, panicking.

“I think she went this way!” Dark figures moved out below her. The morning light cast long shadows behind them. Five people. Five people who were out to kill her.

Ann watched her hands shake. She couldn’t stop them.

“Where the fuck did she go?”

“Probably up yer arse.”

They’d figure it out soon. They’d look up and see her. Ann wasn’t very concealed, with only a few pine branches around her.

Now is not the time for fear, Waheela rumbled. Ann thought she’d feel anger from the ancient wolf spirit, but instead she found comfort. Like a hand on her shoulder. Maybe her snout. The first kill is always hardest. The tension of life and death. Pack against pack. Their pack attacks yours. Will you kill for your mates?

I want to. I really do. I just don’t know if I can, Ann whimpered back.

You will not know until you do. Lean into your emotions. The Bitch chose you for a reason. They are strong. I can feel them, stuffed down inside. You need to feel. Feel the fear and let it go. Feel the rage at the pack trying to kill your own, and channel it. Feel the passion for your mates and let it bolster your nerves.

I don’t know if I’m gonna come back from this.

You will. Changed. Maybe not for the better, but stronger. Watch. Their gaze lifts. Do what must be done.

Ann watched the helmets. Time seemed to slow down.

She felt Waheela emanate calm.

Ann couldn’t relate.

Her stomach lurched as she fell, claws and teeth bared. Twenty-five Libido points pushed into Unseen Strike.

Something broke in the woman she landed on, her paws slamming her shoulders downward.

Screams and shouts rang in Ann’s ears. She tried to shut them out, to flatten her ears and make herself deaf.

She didn’t remember moving, kicking off the broken woman beneath her. Nor did she remember tearing her claws through the throat of the man who lay gurgling at her feet.

She wanted to puke.

Red blood covered her hand. Little bits of flesh were caught under her claws. It smelled hot, wet, and coppery.

A bolt hit her shoulder, digging into the meat. No vitals hit.

Ann rushed the next of the five.

He dropped the crossbow and drew a sword.

Ann struggled to dodge. The bolts in her gut and shoulder made it harder to move. Not only that, this man was around her level. He moved fast enough, and a shimmer to his blade showed some kind of skill active on it. She didn’t dare touch the thing.

Another crossbow twanged, and the bolt almost hit Ann’s opponent.

“Watch where you’re aiming!”

Ann shoved her clawed hand into his stomach as the man turned his head.

The man gasped, looking down, then swung at her. Ducking, Ann threw a smite into her next strike.

The smell of charred flesh wafted up from the wound.

“You bitch!” the bandit growled. He swung again and clipped Ann’s forearm. The blade passed through with no resistance. A red line of blood welled, then split to show a good cut.

It was such a fine cut that Ann didn’t even register it before she’d cut him down.

Blood sprayed from his neck, bathing her face in red, reeking warmth.

Ann gagged.

“S…stay back!”

Ann turned tired eyes to the next bandit. A woman. She was terrified. Ann pushed with Stoke the Flames, and her fear became panic.

“Run.”

The woman dropped her weapons and bolted.

That left the man. The boy, really. The one who’d shot her.

“Please, let me go! I promise I’ll change. I promise I won’t… I won’t…”

“What, shoot me again? Sure. But what about the next girl? The next party?”

“I’ll go straight. I will!”

Ann used Lover’s Intuition. His fear was real. Still, he just wanted to get out and go drinking. Once his money ran out, would he be back doing shit like this again?

“Fine. Fucking run. Get as far away as you can. I ever smell you again in a bandit group, you’re dead.”

He didn’t say a word. He just ran, leaving the cloying smell of urine in his wake.

“Still not done,” Ann groaned. Her body hurt. Her head hurt. She wanted to scream and cry at the same time.

Kat needed her.

Rosalyn needed her.

Bren and Lucia needed her.

Protect the pack.

Ann moved. Her paws were awkward at first, unsteady. Moving helped. Ever since she’d gotten this body, moving had cleared her mind, let her think. She didn’t want to think right now.

Trees blurred as she raced toward her lovers. She heard something happening. A fight was still going on.

Ann wound up behind the line of archers, still pelting Bren and the rest. Looking around, she found their weapons sitting in a pile. A pile right next to two more archers.

Kat was holding up, but she was taking some nasty hits. The scarred eye socket was swelling, and she had red marks elsewhere, showing how much Durge was giving her a run for her money. Bren was doing his best, but the rest were actively dodging arrows. Rosalyn wasn’t casting. They were tapped.

Ann got behind the first of the pair of archers, covered his mouth, and cut his throat with a claw.

“What the…”

Ann felt the woman’s spine shatter as she put a Smite and Unseen Strike into her next punch.

She grabbed Fillianore and hurled her towards Lucia.

Not even waiting to see if she caught it, she grabbed Kat’s shield and spun it at Durge. It arced gracefully and hit him in the back of the leg.

Ann scooped up Kat’s sword and the belt of daggers and ran. She’d taken out seven. Still eleven left.

Gunfire sounded behind her.

The bandits who’d seen Ann hesitated and split, with three chasing Ann.

She couldn’t take much more damage. Already, she could feel her limbs slowing down. Something was bleeding badly. Probably a couple of things.

“Follow the blood!”

“Fuck,” Ann panted.

Double back. Confuse them.

Ann didn’t have time to argue. She danced backwards in her pawprints and jumped onto the next available tree. Climbing hurt, but she did it.

The three bandits showed up, panting. They scanned the area. Shitty leather armour on one of them, just clothes on the last.

Ann flicked two of the paralytic knives out at the unarmoured bandits. Two grunts of surprise, and they collapsed into the snow.

Dropping down, Ann raised the sword at the last bandit.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, shifting her stance and raising her sword.

Ann sighed. Fighting the pain, she took a stance she hadn’t in a long time.

Ann threw her sword.

The woman flinched reflexively.

Ann blurred, Burst of Speed carrying her at maddening speeds.

Swords clanged, the bandit deflecting the thrown weapon.

Ann’s fist hit her stomach with a purple flash brighter than any Smite.

Ribs shattered. Organs popped as bony shrapnel was punched into them.

Ann tumbled and fell in the snow as something splashed behind her. Fighting to her elbows, she felt her stomach lurch.

It was everything she could manage to crawl away from the steaming pool of puke. Everything hurt. Her heart hurt. She was shaking again. Tears streamed down her face as she curled up, hugging her knees.

She had killed people.

Shock blessedly took away the pain. It would come back, she knew it would.

Rest. The fight is over.