I sat there for a moment, my back on my heels, feeling the rough stone ground beneath me. The bandit woman loomed as a daunting presence, especially since I was wielding only a small dagger—a simple tool that had never tasted blood. Its sole purpose until now had been to slice through rope and prepare meals, but in this moment, it was my only lifeline. I was not just poorly armed; I was also outnumbered. With my heart racing, I realized I had no choice— it was fight or perish.
“Where did the Elf g-” The bandit clad in ragged, patchwork clothing began, but his words were abruptly silenced as another voice erupted in agitation, “You damn vermin! Get off me! Arik, get this thing off me! Not the face, not the face!”
Taking a deep breath, I risked a glance behind me, hoping to find Nim or Pork ready to fight for their lives as well. But my hopes crashed when I realized they were gone from where I expected to see them. Instead, I caught a flash of motion—a blur of pink and black—as Pork, the large weasel, slammed into the thinner of the two male bandits. The barely audible snap of his sharp, needle-like teeth echoed through the air, followed by the man’s desperate scream as he clawed at Pork's sleek body, trying to fend off the aggressive creature threatening his face. But the enigmatic elf, Nim, had vanished without a trace. My blanket lay crumpled on the ground beside the flickering campfire, a silent witness to the chaos unfolding.
The bull of a bandit circled Pork and his unfortunate companion, searching for an opportune moment to yank the pink weasel away. He lunged, arms outstretched to grab Pork, and instinctively, I stepped forward to intervene. But just as his hands closed around the weasel, Pork twisted and slipped from his grasp as if he were nothing more than a trick of the light. I, however, was not as fortunate. Out of the corner of my eye, a fist surged toward me, a blur of movement too swift to comprehend. Even if I had seen the blow, dodging or blocking it wasn’t an option. The violet-clad woman had closed the distance in the blink of an eye, leaving me wide open.
The impact was startling, like thunder crashing through my skull. I stumbled back, my legs buckling beneath me, as I lost my footing on the smooth stone. I tumbled to the ground, the world around me igniting in a dizzying whirlwind of colours and shadows as I fought to regain my senses. Stars danced in my vision, and a heavy darkness threatened to swallow me whole.
Gradually, I became aware of my surroundings again. Crawling onto my hands and knees, I struggled to focus. When I finally looked up, the bandit woman towered over me, both axes clutched possessively in one of her hands, a predatory smirk plastered across her face. The sinister curve of her lips sent a chilling shiver down my spine. I instinctively reached out, a futile attempt to shield myself from what was coming. But before I could brace myself, her heavy boot crashed down onto my shoulder, pinning me brutally to the ground beneath her weight.
“Is this really all you have, boy?” she taunted, her voice dripping with disdain. “All that bluster for your companion who abandoned you the moment danger approached. Did you really think I was not a threat?”
The Woman leaned down, her breath heavy and rancid, brushing past my ears like a dank fog. It carried the stench of stale ale, a sickly sweetness mingled with the pungent notes of Nettleweed—something I recognized all too well. Good. It was a lot to ask of fate, even to hope for survival in this encounter, but if her breath reeked of Nettleweed, she must have been under its spell. That could give me the edge I desperately needed.
My hands were useless, splayed awkwardly beneath me in my current position, but luckily, I wouldn't need them for what I had in mind. With great effort, I gathered my focus, sending a flicker of thought racing through my mind. I had only recently learned the delicate art of manifestation, and I felt its arcane essence trickle down my outstretched arm. An electric prickle ignited at my fingertips; the azure spark flickered to life, unnoticed by the Bandit Woman—or at least I hoped so—as I felt the rough rope wound around my waist begin to stir.
“You haven't seen anything yet. BIND!”
As the command tore from my lips, the rope sprang into action, snaking up the Woman's legs like a constrictor, tightening with every coil. The tension surged through me as I pushed my shoulder against her foot with everything I had left. She held the position, but I had the element of surprise on my side. A grunt escaped her lips as she lost her balance, the rope tearing free from her leg and flung aside, but my brief moment of advantage had given me the chance to rise to my feet. The rope flew back to me, coiling around my arm like a bracer, ready to activate again at my command.
It was a risky maneuver, leaving it exposed to potential cuts, but the luxury of wrapping it around my waist again was a privilege I could not afford. With a swift motion, I dragged my other arm across my mouth, wiping away the copper taste of blood, as I squared up against the violent Woman once more. The momentary shock faded from her face, replaced by a twisted, sinister smile—a predator relishing the thrill of the hunt.
“Oh, I was hoping you’d provide a bit more entertainment than that,” she taunted, her voice lilting with cruel anticipation. “I’m glad I get to play with my prey a little longer. That rope? Don’t worry, boy, I’ll make sure to put it to good use.” Her piercing gaze felt like daggers thrust deep into my very soul, laced with malice and venom, each word dripping with venomous cruelty.
Despite the danger, I couldn’t afford to glance away—not now. I had to trust that Pork was holding his own while I kept my focus firmly on this merciless Woman, or I risked losing everything.
I'm sure it must have looked almost comical as I braced myself, the flickering firelight casting shadows that danced ominously around me. The glint of my small dagger shimmered in the dim light, a tiny beacon of defiance in my clenched hand. Though it appeared minuscule against the night, it was all I had to wield against the storm of violence closing in. Opposite me, the woman possessed an effortless grace as she tossed her axe from one hand to the other, catching it in a fluid motion. Her gleaming weapons glimmered with deadly intent, each edge honed to perfection, whispering promises of lethal efficiency. I couldn’t help but wonder how many souls had met their end beneath those merciless blades—would I soon be yet another name etched into the darkness of her past?
As she lunged forward with predatory speed, I instinctively stepped back, my heart racing in time with our deadly dance. While her reach outmatched mine, getting too close would only put me at her mercy—unless I could strike at the precise moment it mattered. I knew the delicate art of manifesting into the rope would take precious seconds and would be all too obvious without an opening in her guardianship. I needed to craft a new opportunity—my instincts screamed that this fierce woman wasn’t the type to fall for the same ploy twice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a flash of metal—a club, tipped with menace, swinging through the air with malicious intent. My only comfort was the metallic clang that reverberated against the stone floor, an echo of Pork’s struggle against the duo who sought to corner me. In that instant, a blade whirred dangerously close, seeking vulnerability in my shoulder. With a determined thrust of my left hand, I deflected the edge, rerouting its lethal path as the flat side of the blade met my shoulder with a jarring impact. The blow, though less severe than it could have been, sent a sharp sting radiating through my arm, a painful reminder of my precarious position. Even if I could deflect the strikes for now, each blow chipped away at my resolve and physical strength. I knew that continued combat in this manner would lead to my undoing—to a brutal end at the hands of this relentless woman. Somehow, I had to find another way to survive.
A glint of pink flickered in the periphery of my vision, a fleeting distraction I couldn’t afford to indulge in, not with the imminent threat looming before me. Moments later, both axes came crashing down from either side, slicing through the air with deadly intent. I knew I couldn’t block both strikes; one would have to be sacrificed to protect the other. I instinctively pivoted to the side, my dagger’s slim blade catching one axe with a metallic clang, halting its advance just a fraction of an inch from my skin. But fate had other plans, as the second axe found its mark, plunging into my side with relentless force.
The blinding pain erupted, nearly collapsing me to my knees. The blade sank deep, threading through my soaked tunic with ruthless efficiency, the iron glaringly unyielding against my flesh. A rush of searing agony enveloped my torso, each throb of my heartbeat sending ripples of fire through the tender muscle. At the same time, crimson blood began to seep into the fabric, competing bitterly with the rainwater that had already draped my attire. My body screamed for surrender; every instinct urged me to crumple to the ground. But I knew if I did, I would meet my end. Summoning every ounce of willpower, I fought against the darkness threatening to swallow me whole.
In that fleeting moment, the woman was alarmingly close, her figure a mere breath away; there was no space left for another swing of her deadly blades. As she prepared to step back, retracting her blades with a swift, practiced motion, I surged forward with a fierce determination. My injured shoulder collided with her torso, a jarring impact that sent shockwaves of pain shooting through me, igniting a cascade of stars in my vision. Still, I pressed on, forcing her backward with all my strength. With my left hand, I grasped the hilt of the blade embedded in my aching side, the metal cool and foreign against my skin, as I fought to wrest it from her grasp. Our bodies grappled in a frantic struggle, her resistance fierce as I battled against the pain that threatened to overwhelm me. With each step forward, I felt the relentless tug of destiny pulling me back into the abyss of this grim dance. The weight of impending defeat pressed down on me like a shroud. As the free axe arced backward, its blade glinting ominously in the fading light, an opportunity flickered before me. Her stance shifted, muscles coiling like a predator ready to strike, and in that fleeting moment, I knew I had to seize my chance. With a swift and deliberate movement, I pulled my head back, feeling the tension build in my neck. In one fluid motion, I snapped it forward, driving the crown of my skull into the bridge of her nose. The impact was jarring, a solid connection that sent a shockwave through both our bodies. I could see her eyes widen in surprise and pain as she instinctively recoiled, blood beginning to trickle from her nostrils—an unmistakable testament to the ferocity of my strike. I must have shattered her nose, as a gruesome torrent of blood cascaded down her face, painting her features in crimson. She dropped the blade that had been lodged in my side, and with trembling hands, she clutched her face, a mix of shock and pain etched across her expression.
“Bastard child, you're going to pay for that, you little brat!” Her words came out muffled, a nasally echo that reverberated through the dimly lit room, confirming what I suspected: her nose was almost certainly broken. It wasn’t a wound that would grant me any clemency, but it would serve as a grim reminder of my defiance if she succeeded in ending me this day.
Though I knew that yanking the blade from my side would likely exacerbate my wounds, desperation gnawed at me. I needed that weapon more than I needed to keep my bleeding in check. The warm trickle of blood seeped through my fingers, a stark reminder of my mortality, but the fire of survival flickered within me. If I were to face her, I would do so with every possible advantage. I steeled myself, mentally weighing the likelihood of dying at her hands against the risk of succumbing to my injury. I had to believe I could outlast this ordeal and transform my pain into a weapon of my own. Yanking the blade from my side, adrenaline surged through me as I grasped a weapon that might hold the key to my survival in this desperate struggle. The metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth, and I felt the warm, crimson fluid seeping from the wound, pooling into a sticky trail that soaked my clothing. With each ragged breath, the pain pulsed like a heartbeat, but the weight of the blade in my hand gave me a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.
This would be my only chance, as she stared down in disbelief at the chaotic world I had thrust her into. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunged forward, dagger poised in one hand and the heft of the stolen axe brandished in the other, swinging it in a wide arc as I moved. I hoped she would react slowly enough to deflect the strike, and as I spun to the side, I thrust the sharp edge of the dagger toward her, our bodies colliding in a desperate tumble that sent us crashing to the hard stone beneath us.
We rolled through a fierce struggle before finally coming to a halt, her weight pinning me down, her hand wrapped tightly around my neck. The twisted smile that had haunted me returned, painted in crimson that dripped onto my skin. Her fingers tightened like a vice around my throat, and despite my frantic writhing, breath eluded me. My lungs felt as if they were being scorched, burning with the effort to grasp even the slightest inhale. My vision began to falter, growing dim as I struggled beneath her weight, the malevolent grin shifting into an unsettling expression of pure exuberance.
“You put up a good fight, kid, but it wasn't enough. And now you die.”
The light was fading from my eyes, the energy seeping from my limbs, yet I summoned the last vestiges of my strength. With a desperate thrust, I drove my dagger into her side, feeling the blade cut through flesh. The wound was shallow, less than I’d wished for, but the dagger had never been designed for combat; it was simply a means to an end. I dug it in again and again, feeling her grip on my neck loosen with each thrust, crimson seeping from my fingers as a rush of air finally filled my lungs.
As she slumped over me, I lacked the strength to push her off, gasping desperately for breath that surged into my lungs like a long-awaited wind on a sweltering day. The moments stretched agonizingly, my vision slipping farther away. Just before darkness engulfed me, I caught a fleeting glimpse of pink in my blurred sight, warmth spreading through my side as the trickle of blood began to slow. I think I heard someone speaking, their voice distant and muffled, but my senses were too overwhelmed by the impending stillness to grasp anything clearly.
A vision materialized in my mind—doe-like eyes gazing into my own, a specter of death beckoning me toward eternal rest. My weary body succumbed willingly, allowing the encroaching darkness to swallow me whole, an invitation I was all too eager to accept.
