[center][color=seagreen][h1]Duncan MacTyr[/h1][h1]??? — Dirt Road[/h1][/color][/center][hr][hr]

Duncan let out a little breath of relief as the noblewoman seemed to approve of their motley trio and turned her attentions to other matters. Namely the poor girl laying wounded by the carriage. Hikari had been quick to volunteer, and Steven was not long behind her, our old man, on the other hand, well...

Two was great, but three started to make a crowd when administering first-aid in his experience— too many hands and too many brains moving about the same body and bumping into each other— [i]and[/i] there was also the little fact that the last first-aid course he'd ever been to had been an army refresher module back in '84... And he'd honestly slept through most of the damned thing because he knew he was retiring soon and [i]there was nobody in that bloody room who outranked him enough to give him hell for it.[/i]

So instead, Duncan busied himself by tearing off another piece of green cloak and giving his sword a wipe down; not particularly wanting [i]all that gunk[/i] to get into his scabbard where it'd undoubtedly start to smell like all hell and be a right [i]pain in the ass[/i] to clean out. Before tearing off [i]another[/i] clean piece and giving the shield he'd used so enthusiastically before the same treatment, pausing for a second to register that his manic melee-ing earlier seemed to have unfastened a clasp he hadn't noticed earlier; one hiding a much longer strap that might allow him to carry it on his back instead of having to lug it around on his arm.

Which was a welcome sight, truth be told; [i]fucking thing would probably get [b]heavy[/b] on the arm after a while.[/i]

Frowning somewhat at a particularly [i]stubborn[/i] piece of brain that still clung to the shield's face, he reached down to tear off another piece of green cloth and came to a sudden stop as he felt something... [i]different[/i] through his gloves. Causing his head to cock to the side slightly and his eyes to cast down toward the corpse beside him for a moment, before he plucked up and pulled the cloak out of the way.

There he found... two rolls of paper, tucked into the back of the bandit-turned-stiff's belt. One looking like a hastily folded note and the other appearing as a more proper looking scroll. His eyes cast upward again as he gingerly plucked the two parchments free, taking another, [i]deeper[/i] look around him.

For as much as their previous attackers had outnumbered them, and as much damage as they had done... [i]there was an awful lot of them laying dead or dying on the ground.[/i] And Ol' MacTyr had been around the block in enough places over the course of his career to have encountered bandits and highwaymen before— less so while fighting the Germans, but definitely in Korea, Lebanon and Egypt. And it was his experience that men who operated like that generally didn't start fights they didn't know they'd win [i]very quickly;[/i] different tools and different lands aside, men generally needed to [i]live[/i] to spend their coin.

Which is why it now struck him as rather... [i]odd[/i] they'd stuck in as long as they'd had— ten minutes at least by his reckoning, measuring from when Steve had picked them up with his fox-eared sonar to their arrival—, taking those kinds of losses, [i]especially[/i] against an adversary that fought like the woman with the claymore did.

Which meant they must've been motivated by something [i]else.[/i] Or after something specific.

His eyes turned towards the noblewoman again, and his brow furrowed. Perhaps they'd wanted to ransom her? It'd be a helluva a payout, seeing as how she's the daughter of a [i]Duke.[/i]

[color=seagreen][i]'...Which also means she's [b]very[/b] high on the food chain. And even if they [b]did[/b] get paid out, their days would likely be [b]thoroughly[/b] numbered... unless...'[/i][/color] He added mentally, turning his eyes downward as he unfolded the rougher-looking note.

On it's surface he found, to his lack of surprise... [i]a map.[/i] Of a road. With an arrow pointing down it's path and symbols he at first couldn't make out until a momentary blurring of his vision seemed to transcribe them into... [i]numbers.[/i] With a few other accompanying notes. Not to leave a stone unturned, he quickly thumbed open the scroll as well, but only found scrawled on it a series of symbols and a merciful lack of visual distortion. Nothing he could make sense of, at least— some kind of code, perhaps?  

He'd have to think about that little hallucination later, but first things first; he stood to his feet, sheathed his sword, slung his shield over his back and picked up his helmet before calmly approaching the maid who'd exited the cart last— mainly because of those nearest to the Lady, she seemed the most the most likely to put something pointy somewhere he'd rather she not if he'd approached her Liege directly, judging by that subtle movement in her arm and the look she'd given him and his fuzzy friends earlier. 

It honestly kinda reminded Duncan of [i]himself[/i] when he was younger and a bit twitchier.

Which is [i]exactly why[/i] he stopped just barely out of arms reach of her. And made sure she was between him and the Noble she served before looking past her and speaking directly towards her boss; something borne out of equal parts professional courtesy and understanding how to act around someone who was already 'switched on'.

[color=seagreen]"Found something, M'Lady."[/color] He stated matter-of-factly, offering the documents out in one hand to whoever would take them. [color=seagreen]"A map, showing your direction of travel, numbers and disposition. The other one looks to be some kind of cypher, but I can't make heads or tails of it."[/color]



[@VitaVitaAR][@PKMNB0Y][@Raineh Daze]