The sun was still low in the morning sky, and its light glinted off of Ruby Rikk's wide grin. He had his battle ax at the ready in front of him as he confronted the last five highwaymen, their weapons drawn in front of them. Both parties had nearly exhausted their bolts and arrows, and so had drawn swords, spears, and axes alike.
“Well, come on them! Which of you pretty lasses wants a coiting dance with ol’ Ruby?”
Weapons were thrown down one by one, followed by raised hands. Two sets of hands fell as their occupants found arrows planted in their throats.
“Damn you sea rats! You stole my dancing partners!”
The Kol'kunn brothers appeared on either side of Rikk, their last arrows drawn on their bows.
“You looked like you needed a hand,” Derry casually remarked, shrugging, “All these pretty soft-skins wanting to play river-rock-hop with you. Doesn’t seem fair.”
The remaining three had their hands high in the air and looked nervously at Ruby's ax, still glistening with someone’s blood.
Ruby nodded his head over at the hostages as Beldan approached, with Jodfrey at his side, his great helm held under his arm.
“Three left. Play it normal, boss?” Ruby asked and flashed a sparkling grin.
“Aye.” Beldan looked over the three and pointed at the captive on the left, who was ghostly white and looked on the verge of pissing his breeches.
Beldan placed a hand on his shoulder, “My bacon burned, otherwise I'd offer you some.”
The other men put their heads down then, for they knew what was next, the middle bandit wincing as he was splattered with his companion’s blood, and jumped as a head rolled over his foot. It stopped rolling face up, and stared at the blood-spattered man, bearing a confused look. Burnt bacon would’ve been tastier than being force-fed a swinging ax.
Play it normal. Kill one, presumably the idiot, to let ‘em know you’re not takin’ the piss. Tell the remaining chaps to tell you somethin’ interesting or become considerably shorter.
“Ahem,” He addressed the two men, who both were both looking up, avoiding the gore beneath them, “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m afraid Rikk’s a bit cranky. He also missed his meal this mourn. So, what say we save a bit o’ time, as we are admittedly quite late for an appointment. Tell me something interesting.”
“I can help! I can!” The blood-speckled middleman stammered, “This whoresquirt lies like a lord, and will send you marching into the seas if you ask directions to a beer hall.”
The man to his right grunted and shook his head, “Gobshite.”
Beldan sighed and pulled his whip from off his belt, “I vaguely recall requesting somethin’ quick and helpful. If ya--" He stopped, and looked up at the gauntlets of the man on the right. Fine stitching, black suede lacing, and metal studs covering the tops of the hands and continuing on to cover each knuckle with a dark steel rivet.
“Those are nice gloves.” Beldan remarked and stepped out of the way of the middleman. A swoosh cut the air, and a sound that may have been a cry of objection was halted abruptly by unforgiving steel.
Another splash of blood flew right, hitting the remaining man and somehow expertly missing Beldan altogether. The head, mouth agape with protest and fear, landed at its own feet, the body collapsing atop it, wiggling violently.
“Now, captain?” Beldan half stated, half inquired.
“Corporal. Captain fell over an hour ago, I'd wager.”
Beldan smiled wide, and filled the gap with his tongue where is dogtooth was missing, “Wager what? Your life?”
The irony was quite sobering to the corporal and he swallowed uncomfortably, eyeing the ax that dripped with the remains of middleman.
“Very well, corporal. Why did your band of merry men choose to die today? I see no insignia. No house or provincial colors. You all fought well, or at least died well, so highwaymen doesn’t seem coitin’ likely.”
“Mockingbirds? You inspiring greatness in the lowest, boss?” Sandi asked with a chuckle, unstringing his longbow.
“Quiet, gold-haired fool!” Jodfrey shot him an angry red look, and turned back to the captive, “Listen well now, I don’t give half a coiting wet fart what you do with tomorrow, but you’ll never find out if you don’t answer quick! You got til that one over there counts his fingers.”
Derry waved his three-fingered hand and started closing the fingers one by one.
“We were hired by a man in Lower Bernavond. I doubt he was the first to hold the contract.”
“So you’re sellswords, and I’m guessing of the more, shall we say, unsavory nature.” Beldan said, throwing an arm up dramatically.
“Let’s call it open-minded.” The mercenary said, eyeing his captors one by one.
“What contract?” Asked Jodfrey.
“Odder than most, though I assure you I’ve seen stranger. Wear unmarked garb, act as bandits might, eliminate opposition, capture the cargo, and head South on the road to Salasarr. It was paid in full, and we were even given extra to cover the costs of outfitting ourselves as befits the contract. He said we’d be contacted before we reached the border.”
Some of the Butchers began side conversations at this news, arguing amongst themselves while Beldan listened quietly in thought.
Beldan stepped closer to the mercenary and raised a hand in the air.
“Quiet your coiting gobs, you lot of winestained swine!” Jodfrey yelled and stamped a heavy iron boot.
The captive looked nervous, and flinched, as Beldan Hide put a hand on his shoulder.
“What cargo?”
The corporal sighed, feeling safe, for the moment anyway, “Not what. Who. A woman. Banker’s daughter. Under your band’s…protection.” He flashed a smile that quickly wilted, as Beldan raised an eyebrow.
“Red hair. Contract said a finely dressed girl red hair.”
Beldan shook his head and smiled. He turned his head to find his entire team looking back at the wagon themselves.
Through the bars, looking back with suspicious golden eyes, was a well dressed girl with flowing red hair.
“You know what, friend,” He said to the captive behind him, “I not sure this lass is worth the trouble.”


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