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...