The Ecstasy of Gold: A Mercenary Tale

Desmond took aim at the young lady who was dueling Casion, his hand gently resting on the trigger waiting for an open shot. The two duelists twirled around in combat, their blades flashing a deadly arc around the tavern. No chance for a clear shot, Desmond thought to himself, and turned his pistol into the oncoming soldiers. Smoke filled the heated air as the weapons discharged, both balls finding their mark as two soldiers fell to the ground.

Casion's attacker turned around for a split second, obviously concerned about who was shooting and who those shots were aimed at. That was all the time Casion needed to press his advantage. He glided inside as he dropped his saber, grabbing the claymore with both his hands and held on for dear life. They looked at each other for a moment, their blue eyes locking on each other in surprise.

"What's a beautiful thing like you doing in a place like this?" Casion asked, inches from her sweat covered face.

A savage knee hit him squire in stomach, but he was able to hold on to the sword with one hand. He gave the girl a quick shove and grabbed his long knife from his boot. Before she could recover, Casion was behind her, his free arm tightly around her waist while the knife was pressed against her neck.

A new group of attackers entered the fray, carving their way into the Duke's soldiers to try and stop the mercenaries from escaping. Though Casion couldn't be certain, their livery looked of Raelheim origin, which certainly was a surprise to him. What on earth was the Raelheim army doing in the middle of a backwater town like Dirburg?

Desmond

No chance for a clear shot, He thought, giving an inward snarl as he turned the pistol away from the girl and in the same direction as his second one. A pair of the soldiers were closing on him, obviously thinking that the guy in the least armour would be the easiest to kill.

He gave them a pitying smile, then pulled both triggers. The sound of twin black powder explosions tore the air apart, and the soldiers simply collapsed, each of the lead balls slamming itself into a throat. Seeing a third soldier closing with him, Desmond realised that he would have no time to reload. So both the pistols went back into his coat, his hands then flashing to his sides, drawing his rapier and main-gauche.

The soldier, clearly not understanding the intricacies of what Desmond was about to do, moved exactly as he was supposed to, swinging straight for the mercenary's head. Desmond's left hand flicked upwards, his thumb brushed a trigger at the pommel of his dagger. A portion of either side of the blade flicked out, making it appear as a minuscule trident. The clash of metal on metal sounded as the sword hit between two of the tines of the dagger. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the mercenary twisted the sword out of his opponent's hand now. Desmond's right hand moved now, and the point of the rapier found its way through the plates of the soldier's armour, piercing his shoulder.

Seeing the Raelheimers enter, Desmond moved to Casion's side, now using his somewhat bizarre dagger to stop a thrust at the captain's side. "Rosaline's right - especially given the newcomers. I'm really starting to think it would be a good idea to leave now."

The Duke's soldiers were turning at the door, meeting the new threat while the ones closest to the mercenaries tried - and failed - to best them. Desmond winced inwardly as he saw the Wolfenguard's hammer come down on one unfortunate soldier's head, virtually crushing him into the floor. What a savage way to die... But regardless of the finesse and strength of any one of them, would they be able to defeat what looked like the entire Raelheim army?

Mikael

Armed men flooded the bar. This didn't seem to unsettle Mikael, who just stood quietly until the rest of the motley troop began fighting back. Gripping his warhammer in both hands and bending his knees slightly to adopt a fighting stance he began swinging in vicious arcs, quickly clearing himself space to swing. One man was caught by a particularly vicious backhand which opened his head and spread his brain across the floor.
An woman weilding a claymore battled her way through the throng before reaching the imposing wolfenguard. He pause mid swing, about to remove her head from her shoulders and allowed her to pass. With a vicious roar he hurled himself into the throng, lashing out with bone splintering force. These men had started this battle, but he intended to finish it and earn his pay.

"Mikael," Casion shouted, struggling to hold onto the kicking woman in his arms, "exit stage left."

"Aye, Captain!" the giant Wolfenguard brought his warhammer crashing against the tavern wall, sending splinters of rotted wood into the heated air. Ros and Brunn stepped between the giant man and the Duke's soldiers, shielding the giant man as he hammered on the wall.

"Sword," Casion kicked at Desmond, as the mercenary stooped down to pick up the Captains saber, tucking his knife safely back in his boot.

"Now what captain?" Desmond said dryly as he stabbed an unsuspecting guard with Casion's saber just before Germine short sword decapitated the soldier. The Southerner spun the two blades with disciplined strokes, driving the soldiers back.

"The stables in the back of the building, grab a horse and get out of here."

"I am surprised he actually has a plan," Ros dispatched one of the Raelheim soldiers, sticking him in the stomach as she pulled him closer into her strike.

The war hammer punched through, revealing a blood red sun sinking beneath the plains of Minesse. The Wolfenguard jumped through the opening, knocking even more wood to the ground.

"Tristin, Germine, buy us some time," Brunn said, as he and Ros ducked into the opening, followed by Casion and his captain.

Tristin pushed Germine through the opening, as he picked up a fallen soldier's wheelock pistol. He kicked one of the soldiers in the throat and grabbed a bottle of wine that had fallen off a table and dumped the contents out on the man before pulling the trigger. The man screamed in horror as flames erupted on his clothes, spreading like wild fire around his body. He got up and tried to run towards the counter top, desperately trying to find some water.

The spilled booze began to flame up around the tavern floor as the flames licked the boots of the engaged soldiers.

"Stop in the name of the King!" one of the Raelheim soldiers shouted as Tristin slipped into the night; the flames covering his escape.

Bastilla

The flames erupted in front of her, her eyes widening lightly. There was less of the silver armoured men, but there was her own, trying to get to her, trying to protect her. One of them screamed out, yelling at them to stop, but it did not stop the men from retreating into the night. Axiel, her head guard, stood there watching them take her away, frozen, flames almost close enough to touch him. They didn't leave out the one door. It seemed the fire had spread, blocking both. And she was being dragged along helpless. Her men, most likely going to die in that fiery tavern. She heard one scream. She could not look away.

"Dammit all!" She screamed, "Run for it, break through the windows, anything!"

She felt the pressed of a gloved hand cover her mouth, muting her, and instantly she resented her captor. She bit down on his hand and fought him, clawing his arms, hopelessly because of the thick armour. Pushing away from him as much as she could, it didn't seem like it was possible.

They made it to the stables, everything in her vision blurred. She heard horses whinny and neigh, acknowledging them. She heard the clattering of people mounting them. Then she heard fighting, and a shrill yell erupt from one of the horses. Oleg. She pushed even harder, trying to make any sound to alert her horse, to make a bid for freedom, but it didn't work. The peoples conversations drowned out her silent screams.

"That big black one is a brute, Casion." A voice was heard. She could not see the unfamiliar man because he was on the other side of her captor.

"It is a trained war horse. The smell and sounds of the fighting have angered it," Casion spoke, "It must have been one of the soldiers."

Struggling, Bastilla broke away for an instant. But that instant was enough time. "Oleg!" She called. She could here the horse rearing at the sound of her voice. She knew Oleg wanted to get away from the swarm of people and the strange horses they all rode.

The horse charged, scattering them all giving her a chance to break away and leap on it skillfully, just as she had practiced. The horse to tempered to fully ride at this moment, she needed a chance to let it calm down. At this moment, it wanted to kill everyone in its path. Patting it lightly, she noted that he was still saddled, her rapier and great axe still tied on. She wanted to get away from these people, but if she let her horse loose, she would most certainly lose control. She could fight them, but that would end most likely with the death of her.

So she stayed there in the middle of hallway of the stable, looking at the motley crew of fighters around her.

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~Incognito

Desmond

The group of mercenaries was just as cautious of this mounted warrior-woman as she was of them. After all, they could attack, and probably win, but they’d lose a few of their number in the process – that battleaxe seemed far from friendly. Desmond took the time afforded by the pause to reload his pistols, keeping his eyes on the girl as he did. They needed to get out of there soon, before the fire in the bar spread to the stables, and that meant making sure that she wouldn’t attack them on their way out.

Casion was considering her carefully, weighing up how she sat in the saddle now, and how she’d fought earlier. Desmond had seen it himself, there was no doubting that she knew how to fight. But he couldn’t exactly figure out who she was – what warrior rode about, bristling with weapons, and accompanied by a troop of guards? That was what they had to be, after all. There were too few to be an army, and too many to be simple servants.

“Maybe she can join us, Captain.” Desmond mused, looking sidelong at Casion.

The man sighed, muttering something under his breath. To Desmond, it sounded like, “As if I don’t already have enough bad luck.” He looked up at the woman on the horse, “Well, if you’d be willing to take a pay cut, then –”

“I don’t need your money.” She snapped back. That confirmed Desmond’s suspicions – she was some kind of noble, or merchant’s daughter, or someone important. Too much so to need to fight for gold. She probably considered it sport, like most of the people he’d robbed.

**Excuse me if I messed anything up there.**

Tristin~~

I slipped my sword back into its sheath and re-ajusted the straps on my armor and weapons.

"It's your call captain, but I don't think we have that much time."

I walked over to Germaine (right?), "You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, why?"

I smiled a little, "You're my partner, just making sure you weren't gonna leave before we got our first pay check."

Bastilla

She slumped down on her saddles realizing just what these people were. They were simple mercenaries. Nobody of importance. Why else would they want her to come. Scratching the back of her head, she directed her gaze to the man who had held her at gun point and had suggested for her to join. He seemed like a man that she could tolerate being around, not so much the captian of the bunch.

She saw movement and watched as a man went to one of the females, obviously trying to suport her, or try to have an effort in conversation. Sickening.

"You people killed my men."

"Ah, but your men tried to kill us, you see. We had no choice." Casion spoke eyes trailing off to the others. By his appearance it seemed he thought her unimportant, the fool. She could have cut his head off right at this moment, but she stalled. These were a group of mercenaries. Not such a good place to start a fight.

"They fought you because they knew I was going to be hurt."

"Mind, we are in a bit of a hurry at the moment. Do you think we can get on with this charming conversation after?" One of them suggested. She agreed with that, the smell of the smoke was getting closer, and Oleg was becoming restless once more. Pulling lightly on the reins and smiling grimly, she directed Oleg towards the front of the stables.

"Aye, and I expect for you to keep that promise. I will want... compensation for what I have lost." Bastilla looked directly at Casion when she said this, and watched with amusement his nostrils flaring, obviously having a comment to say in response to that. There was evidence of an inner struggle.

Stampeding out of the stable on her massive stallion, Bastilla looked back at the tavern, now mostly all ablaze. She felt a tug at her heart. She knew her men were probably still in there and there was nothing for her to do to save them. She was helpless, and here she was about to ride away with their murderers. Some great leader she would be. Turning back to face where she was going, she vowed to have Casion's head. It was her fault mostly, because of her own arrogance, but he was the one who wouldn't let her speak; he was the one who prevented her from saving them.

'He will be dead before I'm done with these people,' she thought with a bittersweet smile.

-------------------

~Incognito

Brunn didn't like this situation at all.

He saw the way Bastilla held herself.

He'd seen the look on her face.

It was just like the look he'd seen just before she'd taken the sight from his right eye.

The Watcher shook himself slightly. It didn't do to dwell on things like that.

"A word, Casion?" he asked as Bastilla left the stable. Desmond, Mikael, and several others looked up when Brunn said this, listening. "Alone?" he added.

Casion nodded and waved at the others to follow Bastilla. "That means you too," he added to the distracted-looking Tristin and Germaine.

Once they were gone, Casion turned to Brunn. "What's on your mind?"

"You're making a mistake," Brunn said flatly. He pointed at the stable door. "That woman is much more than she lets on. She's a hardened warrior. What's more, she's not joining for the money, AND she's obviously nobility."

Casion nodded. "I understand your concern, but-"

"But nothing. If she's not working for money, what does that say about where her loyalties are going to lie when she gets bored of us? And who's going to be jumping down our throats when they find their little daughter in the midst of a rabble of mercenaries?"

And she wants you dead; that doesn't help either.

Rosaline

Rosaline nodded and took her place outside of the stable, carefully eying Bastilla, who waited impatiently on her stallion. Ros shifted in her saddle. Something wasn't right about this woman; could it be she was ill, or just locked in blood lust?

She sighed. Sitting on her large white mare, Rosaline kept her knees tight on the saddle as she dug through her hidden bag she always carried. Searching, she finally managed to find the bandage she previously had covering her arm. In silence, she lifted her limb to find a new gash, bleeding heavily.

Rosaline dug out another strip of bandage and tied the old one to the new. Wrapping them around her arm, she secured them and used her other hand to put pressure on her arm. She looked around, hoping no one had seen. The last thing she wanted was for her injury to be noticed, especially not on the first mission.

"You okay there?" Ros looked up to see Desmond eying her arm. She averted his gaze immediatly, trying to pretend she was oblivious.

"That girl, Bastilla, I don't trust her," she said, changing the subject from her arm to the newest member of their band.

"She refused a pay cut," Desmond whispered, playing with one of his pistols. "She must be noble."

"Well, hooray for us, we have a runaway princess. Just what we need," Ros said, her voice laced with sarcasm. She had never been fond of nobility, especially not female nobility. She had grown up with nothing, and them with everything. "Well, whatever happens, she's either going to be killed or kill all of us. Her air is thick with vengeance."

Desmond raised an eyebrow. Had Rosaline said too much?

"I'm a watcher," she quickly covered. "I am used to sensing the feelings and motives of others."

Casion thought about what Brunn said for a minute, his own misgivings aligning with the Watchers. He tugged at his earlobe, contemplating the situation in his smoke filled brain. Silently cursing, Casion made his decision.

"She stays until we reach camp," Casion said, his voice firm, "we can't risk her slipping away and calling the Duke's army against us, much less the entire Raelheim army. We have a saying in Minesse, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Right now I don't consider her a friend, so we can't take our eyes off of her."

Casion mounted his walnut brown horse, Jericho, without another word. Brunn angrily punched the stall door as Casion rode off into the night. Sighing, Brunn mounted his own horse.

"We will bring Bastilla with us to Von Clarif's camp," Casion said to the group of mercenaries his voice filled with authority, "anyone who touches a hair on her head without her permission will be severely punished for disobeying orders."

Ros spit at that comment.

"That's an order, but is subject to change if Miss Princess isn't cooperative. Is that understood?" Casion wheeled his horse, so he could see all the smutty faces. A barely audible grunt escaped their lips, but it was good enough for Casion.

"Alright Princess, do you vow to behave yourself?" Casion asked, glaring at the young noble. At first she didn't answer, ignoring the Captain's gaze.

"Desmond, Mikael, Ros, relieve the Princess of her weapons," Casion said, turning away from the young lady.

"I won't give them up willingly!" Bastilla shrieked.

"Then your life is forfeit," Desmond said, aiming his pistols at her head as Mikael ripped the weapons away from the stunned noblewoman.

"How far is Von Clarif's camp?" Brunn asked, glad to see the Captain still had common sense.

"Only a days ride, we will make camp in the woods tonight," Casion said, shifting in his saddle, "far away from the road where we might be found," he added, shooting Bastilla a stern look. She glared back at him, her face contorted in a feral snarl.

"Let's ride." Casion said, spurring his horse forward.

Mikael

Mikael grabbed the weapons away from the mounted woman. He hefted the axe in his hands before testing its edge. The thing was truly a vicious weapon. The other mercenaries began mounting their various steeds, each keeping a wary eye on the noble woman.
"Don't you have a steed Wolfenguard?" Asked the Captain.
"Yes Sir but i do not believe now would be and entirely appropriate time or place to call him." He smiled grimly.
"I don't want to know do i?"
"Probably not Sir." He smiled putting his hammer across his back, gripping the axe and jogging alongside the others. Once the convoy was safely outside of the city he drew a deep breath and let out a long whistle. With a growl a gigantic white wolf burst from the trees and leapt down the hill side.

"I..." Casion stared, staring at the gigantic wolf.

"Don't worry he's a trained dog sir," Mikael informed the stunned Captain. The giant walked up to his pet, brushing the creatures fur with his ham sized hands.

"Keep your horses steady," Brunn shouted, struggling to keep his mount from panicking.

Brunn didn't look too surprised, but his horse (which was as tired and grey as he was) whinnied nervously.

"Shh... shh..." He patted her neck. "Quiet Gin."

The horse settled down.

"It might be best if we set up camp," Brunn announced. "It's getting dark, and we should let the horses acclimated to the, er, wolf's presence."

Casion nodded. "Right, everyone, let's pitch camp."

The Watcher dismounted from the horse and walked over to their leader. "You may not have listened to my advice earlier," he muttered to him quietly, "but at least tie the girl up tonight. You don't want her slitting our throats in our sleep."

Desmond

Unlike the others, Desmond didn't own his own horse, and had picked one out from amongst the Raelheimers' instead. While it had been a while since he'd owned his own, he'd always been good with horses, and this one didn't seem to be an exception. Even with the arrival of the enormous wolf, it didn't seem to worried. It shied away from the beast, as was to be expected, but didn't bolt.

He kept one of his pistols in hand as they rode, ever wary of the noble girl. That said, she didn't worry him as much as she seemed to do to everyone else. He didn't think it likely that she'd attack such a large group of them, and nobles tended to value their lives highly enough not to throw them away to kill just a mercenary or two.

Desmond looked around as they started setting up camp, glancing over at Casion and Brunn talking to each other. "Well, we might be in the woods and all that, but wouldn't it be good to set a watch anyway? I mean, there're two armies who are probably still looking for us, and that's assuming that Bastilla's guards didn't live to send word to her family."

Having voiced his opinion, he sat down beside Rosaline. He wasn't much concerned with a tent. In the Helasean jungle there was rarely enough room for one, so he was used to sleeping without one. "You really think she's that dangerous?"

"Like I said," she replied, "Watcher's instincts."

He nodded slowly, adjusted his hat a little, "I'm more worried about what's outside these woods. She should know better than to try and kill us in our sleep. She might want to, but I don't think she'd try." He shrugged, looking to where Brunn was talking to the captain, "Anyway, it's up to Casion in the end." He looked back at her, "What brought you this far south, though?"