The sky was painted orange. The light played across the clouds, and cast that splash of color along the landscape beneath it. This light stretched the shadows of trees and other objects across the ground, making them seem almost jagged. Quite a large number of these shadows were moving.

The horses's hooves clacked as the hit the ground on a steady rhythm. Due to the large number of them, this created almost a chorus of clopping hooves. At the head of the group was a white mare, a young and sturdy horse clearly well-cared for. On her back was a girl, no older then sixteen, wearing armor with a flowing white and gold cape. Her armor was pristine, cared for with exceptional attention, shining in the light of the sunset. Though she had never been in any serious combat before now, the level of care to her armor would not falter even after doing so. Her hair was blonde, eyes blue, and skin pale. She had a rather intense expression on her face.

Bandit King Jeremiah. That was the name of the man they were riding out against today. He led a band of thieves and criminals, vicious bandits who had pillaged even small villages by this point. They had preyed upon the innocent. They had killed the defenseless to claim their belongings. And their leader had the gall to claim himself a "King". Reports told of how he had cut down soldiers sent to destroy his band. Of how he had sent a dying man back to the capital to tell of how he would ransack it, as well. Of how not even the Iron Rose Knights could stop him.

So, it had been decided it was time to put this to the test. To destroy these vicious and cruel men before they could take more innocent lives. Thaln's soldiers were unable to eliminate Jeremiah, but the legendary Iron Rose Knights...

Fanilly gripped the leather in her hands tightly. They... had to win. She had to prove she could do this, and they had to destroy such cruel, wicked bandits. There was no question of it. The bandit's camp was not far off, not even too distant from the road. The Bandit King's brazen attitude had grown, leading to little fear from his band of criminals at remaining so close.

She looked back over her shoulder.

"It won't be much longer that we will need to proceed on-foot," she said.

The strategy was a simple one. To position themselves around the camp, advance inward, and destroy it. While the bandits were powerful... an attack by the famed Iron Rose Knights when they unprepared could surely eliminate them. Even though she doubted herself... deep down, Fanilly felt that the Bandit King was more of a braggart then a powerful warrior. He had likely exploited whatever advantage he could to take down the soldiers sent to eliminate his band of thieves.

Her knights were prepared, however.

Fanilly could only hope she was as well.

Tiral let out a sigh as his horse plodded on, his eyes restlessly flicking about as the two continued on. A call to arms was a rare incident, and the knight was itching to go test his skills against a real opponent. While the Order was by no means an organization for adventurers, the resources they had at their disposal combined with the quality of their training regimen was far more enticing than what most guilds and such offered.

So here he was now, following behind a girl barely reaching for adulthood, as they all rode forth to go and suppress a bandit 'king' and his troops. For some reason or another, Tiral found the whole situation to be... Well, sort of surreal. Wouldn't it be more rational to send in a more experienced knight to lead the charge and let her gain experience as a second-in-command? Sending someone onto the front lines like this seemed like a recipe for disaster...

"Better than cleaning the stables, at least..." he sighed to himself as he stared at the road ahead, a frown on his face. "Whatever happens, happens; no skin off of my back."

The teenager spoke now, mentioning that they would have to leave their steeds behind to continue their assault. That seemed a bit strange to Tiral. Did the enemy have some sort of anti-cavalry measures at hand to justify that course of action? Even if they were to enter a forest, it wasn't as if riding horses was that much of a hassle... Right?

Regardless of that hint of doubt, though, orders were orders, and he would have to comply when the time came around.

"...I wonder how far they'll push me, though... It's been a while since I've had anything more than spars on hand..."

At least one of the knights had already dismounted; once the group hit the tree-line and slowed, Tyaethe chose to give her horse a rest rather than forcing it through increasingly unfavourable terrain. She approved of the novice captain's realisation that a cavalry charge through packed woodland into a camp was tactically unsound... or at least a great way to make the trip back take even longer due to getting your mounts all killed.

Tyaethe considered their chances of actually getting through his with no deaths as she trudged alongside the captain, one of the perks of being the longest-serving knight by an entire order of magnitude. They were knights and these were bandits, anyone could tell you the obvious outcome of such a conflict. Yet these bandits were in their home territory and probably had a morale boost after successfully turning back a bunch of soldiers, especially with their braggart of a leader.

Worse than the bandits' confidence was the Iron Rose Knights... greenness. Not just their captain, a lot of the knights themselves had minimal to no combat experience and were hardly inured to the killing that their profession demanded. If they lost anyone, it was probably going to be because some idiot slipped up or panicked and then got torn to pieces when the bandits pounced. Or if their captain failed to cover some weakness...

"Fanilly, though most of us are heavily armoured, the bandits are likely to have a lot of poachers and disgruntled veterans. We should lead with shields, unless you want to try your chances in a hail of arrows," the knight advised, her voice echoing slightly within the helmet. Tyaethe was being far less than respectful... but she'd use the captain's title once she earned it. A good start would be taking the advice. After all, it was actually a sound idea.

And she could get to the fighting faster if she was at the front.

Humming a quiet happy tune to herself, Marianne kept her head on a swivel as her eyes scanned the surrounding forests. Keeping a watchful eye out for any potential dangers or traps. The bandits surely knew that they were coming and may have potentially set traps, but that could've been giving them too much credit. In her eyes, the bandits were mere thugs and barbarians. Incapable of much critical thought and planning, though that could be a fatal flaw of Marianne's if she underestimated them too much. Even still, she didn't expect to have much trouble with them. Bow at the ready with a few arrows in hand, she not only took the time to provide security but to enjoy the sights of the wood and beautifully painted sky. Though sadly, her sight-seeing was cut short as her comrades began to speak. Turning her head to the young Captain, she could tell that the girl had her doubts and worries, frowning slightly. Who could blame her? Marianne desired nothing more than to offer words of confidence and comfort to the Captain, but held her tongue. There was a time and place for everything. After the coming battle should be more than appropriate. She was certain they would all do well.

She definitely didn't appreciate the mutterings and mumbles of one of the other knights, Sir Tiral was his name if she recalled correctly. She had half a mind to reprimand him on the spot, but again held her tongue. It wouldn't do them any good to start a conflict or argument of their own before the start of one of their first engagements as Iron Rose Knights. She would definitely have to speak to him later, shooting him a silent look. She figured that some of the young man's mumblings were complaints or disapprovals of some sort. Though she may have been wrong and quick to pass judgement. At the very least it was unbecoming of a gentleman and Knight to utter soft words under his breath when in the presence of company.

Listening in on the Holy Immortal Knight's discussed battle plan with the Captain, Marianne inwardly agreed to the idea of leading with their heavily armored units first. She and a few other Knights could take the time to assess the situation and whittle down the bandit forces from a distance. It was a safe and careful option to take. She couldn't however, hold her tongue anymore when the Holy Immortal Knight failed to address their Captain by her title.

"Ah, Dame Tyaethe? If I may speak? I have noticed you simply addressed our venerable Captain by her forename without her appointed title. With all due respect, might I request in the future you take notice and use her title of Captain accordingly?" Marianne finally spoke, of course with her accent some words did not come out quite as well as she'd hoped. Marianne prayed that she got her point across without appearing to sound overly rude or disrespectful. She would be absolutely mortified if the Holy Immortal took what she had said in such a way, not desiring to anger her.

So, one of their numerous new recruits had an issue with her lack of formality. One so new that she hadn't been told that the legend of an immortal knight was meant to mislead their enemies and that she (had been) very much mortal in the past--something to correct after the battle, since the only newcomer to be informed so far was the captain. Or if she took an axe to the chest and kept going regardless.

"You can ask, but I don't call anyone captain outside of formal affairs until they earn it."

Julianna Rose Silvern grudgingly plodded along on her steed, a magnificent creature of the purest black with a white spot between its eyes, heading up to the start of its mane. She made for a rather gallant figure, her dark skin in contrast with her shining luxurious armor and moonlight colored hair. Julianna made sure to keep close to Fanilly despite her dislike of the young commander. Julianna glanced at her back, the long cape fluttering behind her as if to signify her importance.

If one were to compare the two girls it was actually a rather ironic how their appearances clashed. Fanilly was quite a bit shorter, had pale, translucent skin, blonde hair like the sunlight, and deep blue eyes. Julianna was taller, had much darker skin, hair the color of moonlight, and deep amber eyes. It was almost comical how the two mirrored the dual goddesses Reon and Mayon, if Julianna had black hair then they really would be the perfect earthly representation of the two goddesses.

Julianna was the perfect picture of what a Mayonite Clergy paladin should be while Fanilly was closer to Reonite in looks which was another irony in and of itself; the reason being that the Iron Rose Knights had begun as Mayonite Clergy in the first place. Now, here they were out on a mission and because of some bad karma, Julianna had missed her chance of becoming the captain and this small, fragile girl was now in charge, for now anyway.

Julianna could not help but think a few smug thoughts as Tyaethe offered her opinion on how to improve upon the plan, as it was something she had already thought of earlier. Marianne seemed a little taken aback by how she had addressed the captain but Tyaethe's response back was quite well put, "You can ask, but I don't call anyone captain outside of formal affairs until they earn it."

"My thoughts on the subject exactly." Julianna thought, but what she said was, "You should take up Lady Tyaethe's advice captain," she could not help but emphasis that word to show her distain, "a sound strategy and I might add that as we are entering our enemy's territory we should have lookouts posted as we go so we do not end up getting blindsided by any bandits outside the camp. If by some luck they are all in their camp then great, but if not it would be possible for their to open a hole in our encirclement and escape if we get taken by surprise."

If Julianna was going to one day take over the Iron Rose Knights she had to make herself look good as much as possible to build up a reputation with the troop. Her parents had made sure she got an education to that effect after all so she would waste to opportunities to appear the better commander.

"That is if you think it is a good idea captain." She was nobility so she made sure to keep up with decorum, even if the young captain didn't deserve it.

The woodlands didn’t impede Ash even though the horse was much larger than its companions in the line of Knights. Sir Garrett’s careful direction and the horses own cunning were more than sufficient to navigate the trees of the forest. Velt’s alpine forests had never hindered the Lak’shial horses when they were forced to ascend to root out trouble or cut wood for their dwellings. The quiet of the forest was disturbed by the passing column of Knights but Garrett paid it little head as he strained his ears to pick up the sounds of wildlife and other things less native to the area.

The whole forest was awfully quiet largely due to the presence of the Knights tramping through it; the usual present wildlife had disappeared in a hurry. Inhaling slowly Garrett could detect the scent of woodsmoke on the gentle breeze that passed through the branches of the forest. They were getting close to the camp that was for sure.

Picking its way over branches and around stones Garrett flicked his gaze through the trees towards the group as it continued in more or less single file. Every gaze was on the young captain; it was less than surprising really given the lack of experience of the young woman. With a tug of the reigns Garrett lead Ash through the tree line towards the procession of Knights. Falling in next to Fanilly Garrett nodded to the Captain. “We’re close, I can smell smoke and the forest is lacking in wild life here.” With another respectful nod Sir Garrett tugged on Ash’s reigns again to drop back along the side of the procession. The Heavy Khopesh rested across the top of his saddle gripped in his right hand. The hulking veteran Knight slowly ran his thumb over a spot on the leather wrapping of the hilt. A smooth spot beneath the leather thumb of his gauntlet showed the nervous tick had been around for years. The smooth spot could be found on all of Sir Garrett’s weapons in about the same spot with the exception of his Warmaul which lacked the leather straps on the grip.

Reaching up Garrett used his legs to guide Ash for a moment as he checked his visor before gently touching his bow on the left side of the saddle. Everything was in order. It wouldn’t be long before the killing started. It was just a matter of who was going to die. With another inhale Garrett tested the air again, savoring the scent of the woods before it was stained with blood.

Why this was a job for the knights, Katrina did not know. It seemed to her that the kingdom's soldiers ought to be more than well equipped to take on a pack of uppity bandits, but they had failed miserably. What kind of kingdom was Thaln, if it's soldiers couldn't defeat the outlaws within its borders? Some might claimed this self proclaimed King Jeremiah and his ilk were special, that they were all too strong, but Katrina had to wonder if Thaln's military hadn't simply gotten soft. Perhaps they were too used to relying upon the Knights of the Iron Rose to handle their own problems anymore. Whatever the case was, it was their job right now to crack some bandit skulls open, and Katrina was all too ready to put an end to this pack of rabid dogs.

Their task aside, one large concern was their fresh commanding officer; Fanilly Danbalion. Katrina didn't approve of the idea of picking random women born at a certain time for command, but she could care less if someone was picked by an antiquated tradition as long as they stepped up to the role well enough. Fanilly had yet to do anything of real note, and as such Katrina had yet to form a real opinion of her. She did not expect much from her, however, and she wouldn't hesitate to take sides the moment she made it clear she couldn't hack it. Then again, Katrina would only take the side of someone she thought might do the job better. She definitely wouldn't jump in on the side of some poncy noble that thought the position ought to be theirs by birth or some other rot. The only thing Katrina respected was success, and only a proven commander would be worth fighting for.

On the thought of poncy nobles, Katrina noticed Marianne piping up with her moronic opinion. Katrina didn't give half a stuff about titles and courtesies, and it seemed Tyaethe shared her sentiment. She sniggered as Marianne was put in her place. As for the rest of it, Katrina didn't really care what tactics they used as long as they got stuck in. If these really were just a pack of dirty criminals, they would panic once they got bloodied badly enough. Between herself, Garrett, Tyaethe and the other knights with even a scrip of real experience, they could probably rout them alone. In any case, Katrina was ready to dismount and head in.

Marianne's cheeks flushed bright red when the Holy Immortal retorted as she did, her voice catching in her throat as she was clearly flustered and embarrassed. While she didn't completely disagree with the notion of one earning their title and requiring to live up to their name, she wholeheartedly believed that the higher powers of the Iron Roses knew what they were doing by adhering to time-honored tradition. It wasn't simply for show, it worked for all these years had it not? Regardless if Captain Fanilly was deserving of her rank, it was still her rank nonetheless and she had thought they all should show respect of that rank if not the person. Eyes looking to Dame Julianna and Dame Katrina, it was clear that not everyone felt the same way as she.

Choosing to return to silence, Marianne cleared her throat and regained her composure. Her cheeks returning to their fair tone as she continued to ride alongside her comrades. Her tutors had warned her of such people. Of ones with a queer way of thinking that seemed alien and confusing to her. A dangerous way of thought that invited chaotic changes and differing views and perspectives. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with such thinking, but why alter and adjust what has worked for quite some time? Nothing was broken, so what was there to attempt to fix? Marianne couldn't understand it, but resigned herself to continue scanning ahead for potential enemy forces. She would be lying if she didn't admit that their brief exchange upset her, but she was more so bothered by the fact that some of her so-called comrades possibly saw her a fool now. She regretted speaking up, as difficult as it was to withhold her voice. In a feeble attempt to distract herself, she drew two more arrows from her belt quiver for a total of three in hand. Positioning them in between her fingers, ready to engage multiple targets should they show themselves.

Softly sighing, her eyes wandered over to hulking knight Sir Garrett. More successfully distracting herself with the massive, brutish, and gruesome appearing equipment he carried on his person. How any average man could use such weaponry effectively on the battlefield was beyond her. Then again, Sir Garrett appeared to be beyond an average man if his size was any indication. Now lost in thought, she wondered if it were possible Sir Garrett had something akin to giant's blood within his veins. She wondered what his diet consisted of. She would have to ask him later if it were possible, insanely curious. There weren't very many men of his stature from where Marianne was raised. Infact, other than this first excursion, none of them truly knew each other aside from their connection to their Captain. She'd like to get to know all of the other Knights and have proper introductions very soon.

The clip-clop of the elegant steed drummed her ears with monotony. The fair lady in the ornate armor, with blue hair and blue eyes drifted her sight lazily around the canopy of the forest, her nose furrowing with disgust. It was then when one of her fiercest enemies was in front of her eyes.

Such darkness, such foul appearance. What with the beady eyes. It was in front of hers, greedily rubbing its forearms. But it was all over too son. A deft strike of her armored hand, and her opponent exploded in a mess of blood and gore.

"Damn bugs." Sult said."Stop ruining my poor maiden's skin!" She whined in a childish tone. Where was she? Oh right, knights, expedition. Bandit-slash-rat-slash-miscreant stomping. Not the most glamorous job but eeeh, one could chuck so many soldiers to bandits before resorting to the big guns. She eyed her companions, before seeing instructions, and some small chatter being sent back and forth. Well, that was a good distraction before the proper gruesome deed, so she pitched in full force.

"Oh, come on, sisters-in-arms, don't tease our captain! She is but the most cute and youthful rose of the garden, how could you not love her? Even a bandit surely would have its heart melted!" The trickster lady spouted, baiting for a reaction in anyone of the present. "I mean, what's so wrong about birthright? We have a King by birthright, and quite some of us have privileges for it." Sult smiled coyly, letting her veiled invective sink in the more self-entitled of the knights. Incidentally, quite a lot of those were noble as well.

"It'll all be fine, it's just rat stomping, right? Although we're quite in the rat's den, and who knows what they can do if they're cornered. Little caution won't hurt." Sult pondered. Arrows, Tyaethe? If only they were -just- arrows. We're probably facing some really dirty skirmish tricks if they took out soldiers. She thought internally, choosing to not undermine the captain's position any further by showing visible concern. Her thoughts quickly race to a distracting maneuver, as she eyed the barbarian, the perky, muscled and ruggedly handsome savage that somehow had gotten in the order, and with her cattiest voice she called.

"Sir Garreeet... Could you do a little favour and take my share too? I am wounded. Bug bites. And I'd love to see that big thing of yours in action too." She probably was referring to the sword. Maybe.

Can't hurt siding with the biggest meanest one in this case. She added as an afterthought.

(@Themerlinhawk)

Tarrya rode sullenly alongside Garrett. She had never been comfortable in the saddle - despite being taught the basics of riding growing up she had never taken a liking to horses, or saddle sores for that matter. Even as a lieutenant of the company, when nobody would’ve looked twice had she taken a captured warhorse or two for her own use, she had preferred to fight and command on foot, sacrificing the mobility and height advantage for the security provided by her own two legs. Not that she would be commanding anyone anytime soon - this order had ridiculous notions about eligibility or command, just as bad to choose a young girl for her time of birth as to choose a young man for his family connections. As it was, the horse she currently rode was a far cry from the impressive steeds she had sold after the occasional capture of a knight, she was hardly a massive weight, even with her armor, but the beast seemed to lag behind the other horses all the same, struggling with her weight. He didn’t have much longer, she reckoned.

Branches seemed to mock her as they poked her in the face, just how they would do so she was unsure - but she had never been fond of thick forests. Too many friends had met their end in an ambush from thick woods before. Of course, the commanders of this little detachment would probably not even factor that in - and so far she hadn’t seen the faintest hint of a scouting party sent out to reconnoiter the area. It was almost as if there was an untrained sixteen year old in command, or something preposterous like that.

She kicked the spurs of her horse, urging the animal on again to catch up with Garrett. He seemed to be joining a few of the other knights in a small little circle, probably discussing tactics. She smirked to herself, overhearing a small fragment of conversation - at least the girl seemed to realize charging in bellowing was a poor course of action. Maybe with some experience she would turn out competent after all; only time would tell however, and no amount of heavy armor would save them from any poor decisions she made now.

And still no sign of any attempt at recon- she perked up, one of the knights had actually suggested sending out scouts! Incredible! Perhaps more than a handful nobles knew basic tactics? Most of them didn’t, in her experience, but this woman made her hopeful. She knew the woman would likely not notice her - after all, she was simply a commoner to them, beneath their notice. Unlanded nobility were not exactly the most prestigious members of society, and she had been adventuring with a mercenary company for the better part of a decade. In all likelihood, this woman would likely consider her simple common dirt to be ignored. Nonetheless her scowl softened, almost approaching a faint smile, and she nodded towards the woman, clearly wanting to offer her own input but remaining silent.

Fanilly couldn't help but wince slightly at the lack of address of her as captain. While she knew that the undead Knight of the Iron Roses did not mean it in the same way as others who may have had the same sentiment, that didn't stop her from finding doubt welling up in her mind once more. She tried instead to focus on the advice given: That the shield-wielding knights among their forces advance first. It was sound and a strategy she should have discussed earlier. The young captain couldn't help but feel her foolishness for not mentioning such a thing before. What if someone had gotten killed?

Her grip tightened. No. She couldn't let such things get to her. Not now. Fanilly had to prove herself. She had to ensure things went successfully. If her mind was flooded with doubt, that would be just as dangerous as charging in blindly. The blonde took a deep breath, but before she could respond, one of the other knights, Marianne, spoke to the Tyaethe, attempting to jump to her defense only to be swiftly met with a rebuttal. And then... the sharp, short tone of Lady Silvern's reference to her as captain made it all too clear what her opinion of the matter was, even if she said little more then to post lookouts. That, too, was a wise choice.

"... I understand," the pale young girl began, "It had been my intent to send our forces in groups to surround the camp once we have located. Shields first is only reasonable. I believe that the bandits may not be expecting our order to attack them first, however, and may be caught unprepared."

After she had finished speaking, one knight, Sult, spoke up... and... and called her cute?! Fanilly's cheeks were suddenly burning with embarrassment, and she quickly looked away, eyes fixed firmly downward at her mare's back. She shifted atop it, trying not to make her awkwardness noticeable.

It likely did not work whatsoever.

"Ah... ah... I... well..." she trailed off. However, her downcast gaze made her quickly realize that they had reached the point where the forest grew too thick to maneuver on horseback any longer.

"... We..." Fanilly took another deep breath, trying to compose herself, "We must dismount before going any fur-"

She stopped dead as she looked up. Ahead, wheels smashed, caught up against a tree, was a cart. A horse lay dead in front of it, arrows sticking from its side and neck. A man lay on the ground. He wasn't moving.

The Order's duty came to the forefront of Fanilly's mind immediately as she lept from her horse. There was the sound of metal on leather as she drew her longsword in one hand, the blade flashing in the light of the setting sun. Even if this was foolish... if that man was alive...!

The Captain of the Iron Rose Knights sprinted forward without a second thought. Soon she was upon the cart, coming to a halt and kneeling beside the downed man. He was an older man, in his forties perhaps, with black, short hair and simple clothing. His side was soaked in blood, and there was a gash in his flesh. And yet, he was still breathing, even if he was pale an unconscious.

"... He's still alive!" Fanilly called to the others, looking back over her shoulder, "But he needs aid immediately!"

The man's eyes fluttered open, and fell upon Fanilly's face, then the symbol on her breastplate.

"... You... an... Iron Rose Knight..." he said, weakly, reaching up towards the girl. Her attention returned to him quickly and she took his hand in her own.

"Hold on," she began. His wound was bloody, but if he got medical attention swiftly then he could perhaps survive, "As captain of the Iron Rose Knights, we will get you to safety!"

He weakly shook his head. "L... leave, this is... a trap..."

... A trap...?

Fanilly heard the sound before she saw anything. She released the man's hand, and did the first thing that came to mind, throwing herself to the side, catching herself with her free hand as she stopped and looked up. Three black arrows had buried themselves deep in the wooden cart where she had been moments later. Almost immediately, a hooded man in ragged leather armor sprang out of the downed cart and threw himself at her.

Fanilly threw herself to the side as he swung a shortsword down towards the short girl. His sword hit dirt, but he swung back up just as she drew her dagger and immediately locked his strike up in her guard, a followup strike forcing him back immediately.

"Heh," he spat, "Skilled for a little girl, but no use when the other guys get here. What are you doin'-"

His eyes found the symbol on her chestplate, and then his gaze found the other knights. His eyes widened in horror.

"... Th... the Iron Roses?! Oh gods above!"

Though Julianna wouldn't see it, it was entirely possible that she might feel the weight of the glare directed her way by Tyaethe. Not because of the scouting suggestion, though she thought it was a foolhardy risk to split off knights one or two at a time in a bandit infested forest and hope they made it back, but because of the tone. It was hypocrisy to disapprove of others showing disrespect to the order's captain but that was never going to stop the undead; veterans got to be casual in her opinion but nobody looked down on the captain.

The glare lifted when Fanilly sprinted ahead to tend to a wounded man and instinct kicked in, with the heavily armoured knight following a moment later and--nearly--a moment too slow. Their captain's good reflexes averted needing to find another girl born on the full moon and the attempted backstabber saw how screwed he was.

He might even, for a second, have noted how particularly doomed he was as the massive sword held in Tyaethe's left hand swung round and she let out a wordless roar, taking advantage of his stunned state to make sure that he was very particularly dead. The number of people in the world that could survive bisection was limited, after all, and Tyaethe didn't pause to make sure it stuck. She pivoted with the sword itself until facing the direction the arrows came from, striding forwards despite the simple fact this was an ambush.

They could attack her all they liked. If they could even hit her armour from the right, it would be a small miracle.

Tiral rolled his eyes as he watched a good chunk of the REST of the company bickering around the captain. Most of them were nobles, right? A miracle that he had gotten selected for the subjugation force, all things considered. Though... From what he had heard from eavesdropping just a little, it seemed like the whole ordeal was a little mess about the politics of the whole situation, thinly veiled with some degree of half-respect. The division seemed fairly interesting overall, but getting involved might turn their attacks towards him instead. That... That was something he would rather avoid.

The young knight reined his steed in when the captain, altruistic as she was, decided to attempt to help a man lying on the road. Tiral stared at the destroyed carriage and the dead horse before sighing. The attack was recent, given the fact that the blood on the man's clothing had yet to dry. That could only mean--!

Leaping off his mount and drawing his sword from the side, Tiral gritted his teeth in silence as a bandit attempted to assault the captain. He was promptly cut down, of course, but bandits... Well, where there was one, there were always more.

"Alright, enough chatter. Be ready for more any moment now..." he began to say before noticing the rustling of leaves abovehead. One of the bandits seemed smart enough to try and run back to warn their leader instead of trying to assault them head-on.

Not like he was going to allow it, though.

"Seek mine enemy," Tiral began to chant, a sphere of the crystal-clear liquid beginning to form in his hand. "And chain him unto this land in thine own name."

Without any further flourish or extravagance, the water shot out towards the trees, and a cry of pain (along with the sound of a few branches being broken) could be heard as another bandit tumbled to the ground in front of him. The water he had sent up earlier was now circling his arms and legs, which meant that, at the very least, the spell had been successful.

"Freeze."

And with that, the water turned to ice, weighing down the bandit from escaping even further.

"Good luck escaping from that, you scum," Tiral stated, a frown on his face as a few more bandits popped out from the woods to take them on. Oh, oh course there were more. It was a miracle that they weren't in full retreat by now. Though, to be fair, with his distinct lack of armor, he DID seem like the easiest target right about now...

"Sorry to be a bit of a nuisance, but could I request some assistance here?" the young knight asked his colleagues, attempting to parry and evade the broad, untrained slashes of the bandits. "Honestly hoping these blades aren't coated in poison, or else I might be in a biiiit of trouble."

At Sult’s comment Garrett let out a laugh as he winked at her. “Are you asking me to show you how well I use my hammer? I’d be happy to oblige you anytime.” With another grin at her Garrett let out Ash’s reigns to drop back a ways in the column towards Tarrya. They were quite vulnerable without the scouts but his reconnaissance on either side of the column of Knights had helped keep them out of any trouble up until now.

Giving Ash a nudge he fell in next to his Lieutenant; turning to give her an annoyed look. “This is gonna get us all killed. Don’t tell the Captain I said that. Take your footmen and fan out on foot. No use being caught on horseback in the treeline. Bastards probably already closing in on us.”

With almost prophetic accuracy Garrett felt the unmistakable zip of air in front of his face as an hour breezed by him into the column of Knights. Looking forward with a curse Garrett watched as the Captain locked blades with a bandit only to be cut down by the unliving one. The Knight always made Garrett’s hairs stand on end; she was far too unnatural for his tastes. Putting aside his concerns for the moment since it was clear they were standing in the big middle of an ambush Garrett quickly secured his Khopesh and yanked Tarrya down low beside him turning his armored back so he could cover her smaller form.

“Get your men off their horses and fan out shields up. I’m going to make sure none of the greener Knight’s takes an arrow to the throat. Oh and Tarrya? Don’t get killed by your own horse on the way down.” With a sour grin Garrett reached up and snapped his visor down. With a swift movement his dismounted Ash and slapped the war horse on its flank. With a whiny and a jump the horse bolted into the tree line. It would be back, the horse was far smarter than some of the men-at-arms with the Knights. With a shrug of his shoulder Sir Garrett raised his kite shield and let the war maul in his right hand slide down his hand so he could have better control over it in the tight trees. Bellowing a hill clan war cry Garrett took off up the line of horses making a beeline for Sult, Marianna and Katrina. Marianna was still green compared to the other two but he had yet to see Sult or Katrina in actual combat. Taking note of Tyaethe’s stance as she covered the captain Garrett made the quick mental calculation. There was no way he was going to reach Julianna or Tiral in time but the other three were within sprinting distance before the hail of arrows that was sure to follow started up.

“Get off your damn horses!!!” Garrett bellowed at the three Knights ahead of him in the line.(@Tarquin, @harinezumikouken, @AtomicNut)

Hopefully there were no crossbows…

Raising his shield arrows splinted against the heavy metal as Garrett charged full tilt through the undergrowth. Plants, tree limbs and saplings gave the mountain of a man no pause as the juggernaut of steel and fury splintered the wood and crushed the light foliage. His presence was needed in the Vanguard if they were going to survive this encounter. The bigger the target the easier to hit so that meant the heavy armored knight would draw a large part of the projectile fire. Assuming the other Knights got the hell off their mounts.

Tarrya better not take too long getting the troops lined up.

@Monochromatic Rainbow

Julianna was always perceptive of the people around her and made it her duty to gain some knowledge of each potential asset and threat around her. Her senses when attuned toward her 'allies' usually took a more political stance. Her knowledge was of course mostly focused on those of position but even those who were not and were just part of the Iron Rose Knights, still had their spheres of influence, which is why Julianna just barely noticed Tarrya nod in her direction.

Julianna didn't know much about the older knight, although she knew the basics, such as she had been a mercenary and was quite experienced on the battlefield. She was also of low birth in comparison to many of the knights but even the lowest of knights was still a knight and deserved to be at least acknowledged. Also the more knights she could bring over to her family's way of thinking the better, so she smiled briefly in her direction in gratitude for the silent support and gave a quick nod of her head before returning her senses to the immediate area.

Julianna felt a wave of hostility in her direction from the 'immortal' knight. It would have been nearly impossible to tell due to Tyaethe being fully armored all the time, if she had not been trained from a young age to be able to gauge the feelings of those around her so she could use those feelings to her advantage. Now Julianna respected the powerful knight, truly; however, it was a fact that this 'immortal' was one of the greatest obstacles to her family's goals as she seemed completely aligned to the traditional ways, even if she was sometimes hard on the young and inexperienced Fanilly. The reason she was such a big obstacle was well, she was old and had been with previous generations of Iron Rose Knight captains so she was quite respected, and somewhat feared.

Her thoughts were interrupted when their good captain saw a man, horse and cart on the ground having been recently attacked. Julianna's first thoughts were actually quite aligned with Fanilly, to go and help the man but war tactics and experience quickly interjected telling her it was a trap. "Let's proceed caut-" She started to say but Fanilly had already dis mounted and bolted for the man to save him and Tyaethe quickly followed.

With a groan, Julianna quickly followed suit, dismounted, directed her horse to go away from the fighting and arrows, and raised her shield to press forward. Julianna was not about to let the young captain die because of her inexperience, she wanted to replace her, not kill her after all. Tyaethe managed to help her thankfully as she split a bandit in half that had tried to take her out. Julianna soon reached them as well, a few arrows bounced off her shield and one managed to hit her armor but harmlessly bounced off. The overall number of arrows coming at them was few so there could only be a few archers in the area.

"You're lucky these bandits underestimated us or you'd be a corpse right now." Julianna chided as she took a defensive stance to protect Fanilly and the old man. She sheathed her sword so she had one free arm to pull the old man as close to the cart as possible for cover and tried to figure out the directions the arrows had come from. "Since we're already here, why don't you apply first aid while I provide cover, that way we can at least have something good come out of this ambush."

Marianne was more than uncomfortable listening to the playful banter between Dame Sult and Sir Garrett, for whatever reason she couldn't tell at the moment. She figured it to be the inappropriate nature of their conversation between what should have been proper and honorable Knights, but felt there was more to her discomfort than that. Sadly, she couldn't pick up on the finer points of their words and thought no more of it. Apparently Knights that hailed from foreign lands were surprisingly different from the Knights birthed by her family line, as she was learning rather quickly. Here she sat on her steed, thinking that she would instantly bond with and get along with each Knight when that was far from the truth. Even still, she wouldn't let this new knowledge deter her.

Breaking her gaze from the two, she looked ahead and returned to reality just in time to see their Captain rushing ahead to the aid of a wounded civilian. Or, so it seemed. Instantly, there was something about the situation felt off and wrong to her. This was a known dangerous area. What was a civilian doing out here in these thick woods? She thought to shout to stop her beloved Captain but was too late as her senses screamed at her to move. It all happened in flurry as it became quickly apparent that the bandits had set and sprung a trap. By the time Sir Garrett had bellowed at her to dismount, Marianne had already beaten him to the punch and gracefully swung her legs over to slip off her steed. Striking the creature to dismiss it, Marianne's mind set into 'battle mode' as she sprinted straight for her Captain to defend her. The bandits would try to take advantage of the ensuing chaos to maximum their effective damage.

"Do not allow your mind to fall into chaos in combat. Set simple goals and achieve them, little by little. That is the key to victory."
Marianne recalled her mentors saying to her.

Her first goal was to ensure the safety of her superior commanding officer. Secondly, take notice the location and presence of each allied force. Third, retaliate against enemy forces with overwhelming ferocity to secure the safety of her comrades. Fourth, assess the situation and consider the fight following after the fight. With one quick scan of the area, Marianne took mental note of her fellow Knights as she knelt next to Dame Julianna and Captain Fanilly. Nocking her arrows, any movement or noise that was not deemed or recognized as friendly was met with a swift shot from her bow. Unceasing and unrelenting in her assault as she refused to halt her arrows' flight until every bandit was dropped. Well trained in speed shooting, that was not to say her shots lacked strength as she kept consistent form. Her arrows quietly whipping and whizzing through the air. The drawstring of her bow constantly thumping and vibrating with a regular tempo and rhythm.

"Full length draw. Tighten your back muscles. Let your arrow fly through your fingers. Maintain proper form."
Marianne mentally repeated to herself, over and over as her eyes flitted from target to potential target. Making sure not to fire too close at allies or take risky shots.

Shouting over the din, she voiced to all who could hear her thoughts, "Be wary of a secondary trap! This may be a diversion for the true threat!"

It really was quite amusing for Katrina to see their captain getting flustered by all the attention she was receiving. Sometimes, Sult's nonsense was just what this company needed, as far as Katrina was concerned. Of course, she wouldn't appreciate being on the receiving end of such nonsense, but she could have a giggle watching other people have to deal with it. It was not long before the group of them chanced upon a destroyed cart. The obvious conclusion was that it had been raided by the bandits. Katrina had to wonder what kind of poor sod had ended up in a notorious bandit territory. Had they been living under a rock? Were they foreign? The captain raced in to check on the scene. Katrina watched curiously before a bunch of bandits appeared on the scene. This was a trap, and their captain had rushed right into it. That did not speak well of her.

But the positive side was that the enemy had finally shown their faces. This may not seem like good news to many, but Katrina had been itching to butcher some of these scum for a while now. She dismounted with exceptional speed and raced to engage the first enemy she could find. She chanced upon some poor sod that had emerged from the treeline, trying to circle around the other knights. He spotted Katrina when she was only a few mere steps from him, and he froze on the spot. Katrina swung her double sword and cleaved through the man's left arm. He was already panicking and had no chance of fighting on, but Katrina wasn't finished. She whirled her sword around and slashed him right across the torso, then followed up with a slice to the right leg, cutting it off. The bandit's corpse collapsed in front on her.

An arrow shot towards her shortly after her first kill. She evaded it, and her gaze transfixed on the nearby bandit that had fired. He could see that she looked positively giddy at having seen her next target, and he turned to run. Katrina easily caught him and skewered him through the back. She pulled her sword out of the wound only to preform a strong slash to finish the man off. He fell flat on his face, and was silent. Katrina's clothes were already drench in blood, and her armor spattered with various stains and splotches. But this didn't bother Katrina in the least; she was in her element. It was almost nostalgic, taking her back to her time in the slums fighting some of Thaln's most wretched. Only now, she wasn't just fighting peasly thugs and other rif-raff, but a real bandit horde. The blood on her wasn't a few drops from a broken nose, but everything that had gushed out of the deep wounds she had sliced open.

And all she could think of was where the rest of them were, so she might finish the job.

"Clever little rats." Sult smiled as she watched the events unfold before her. She couldn't help but to appreciate the crude attempt at ingenuity from the outlaws, springing a trap and an ambush. The fact that the captain was sucked in on it almost immediately put a dent in Sult's amused attitude though.

Of course, with the captain in the center of a trap, and the bandits organizing a preemptive -albeit unsuccessful- attack on the Rosebud, and herself more concerned with a wounded civilian than directing her own troops, chaos had ensued, with people acting independently and yelling confuse orders to eachother. Although they didn't seem to be in any danger. Yet.

Sult hastily abandoned her horse, while raising her shield, an ungraceful one, of a horrid green color that clashed with her attire. Well, fashion was a secondary concern in this case. Arrows to the gut were an important subject of concern, as she felt the thudding sound of the projectiles against her shield.

"Sorry, sir Garret, I'd love to have you as dance partner, but someone else is calling it first!" Sult yelled in a clear voice enough, after doing a quick scan on the situation. The undead, well, good luck in getting her even touched with a hit. The commander was well covered, even if they were her detractors those around her. She would have loved to pitch in for glory and recognition, and could've been useful, but it was a moot point now.

Someone else, the other magical asset besides Sparky, who was practicing pierce-a-rat besides the commander with the bow, had called for help. Secondary ambush? What are these, tactical geniuses? Really, Sparky, really!? She added before putting an ugly visage and starting to sprint towards the object of a help call.

Ice Jerk. His magic was useful, and he probably needed to be kept alive, no matter how insistent he was in parrying daggers with his belly. She dashed, clobbering one of the bandits that sprung at her with her shield, only to finish it off in a quick, but very forced movement of the sword, sinking in the poor fella's guts.

I need more training to make it fluid and graceful. She lamented.

"You need rescue, Sir Tiral?" She said in a coy tune, her sword slashing at her opponents preemptively while she kept her guard up, eventually shielding the mage. "Afraid of the little rats, hm? Poison is not cheap, you know..." She smirked as she sided with the mage and knight.

Garrett blinked as he approached where the three female Knights had so recently been. Hefting his maul he settled it on his shoulder a dry chuckle emanated from the Knights armor as he looked to his left. Raising his shield he caught an arrow from one bandits in the treeline. These bandits were seriously assaulting a line of Iron Rose Knights for some reason. Turning Garrett started walking towards the archer. The young man had a long bow; it trembled in his hand; as the bandit let the arrow fly Garrett swatted it with his warmaul. The bandit turned and tried to run; Garrett hurled the war maul end over end and it slammed into the man's knees with a sick crack as it blew out both knees from behind.

Looking around he could already see the other Knights dispatching the Bandits with glee and reckless abandon. Many of them had rushed to the captain seeking glory from defending the young girl who he was sure many of them had been bad mouthing recently and would no doubt blame for running to the aid of the man now propped behind the cart. It was sad really instead of serving the captain and trying to do their best to help out the Order they were squabbling like children.

Julianna was the worst as far as Garrett could tell; the others were just inexperienced or naive and didn’t understand how things worked. Reaching down Garrett stifled the Bandits screaming with his grip of iron. Shouldering his kite shield over the big bastard sword currently hanging from his left shoulder Garrett picked up the maul from where it had landed. Another bandit came screaming bloody murder out of the tree line with his sword held high. Amateur.

The maul held in Garrett’s right hand caught the bandit in the solar plexus with the end of it as Garrett jabbed him with the pummel of the maul. With a crunch and a gurgling cough the bandit staggered backwards as he folded over clutching his crushed sternum. With a swift underhand stroke Garrett obliterated the man’s jaw sending pieces of flesh and bone flying in a terrific spray of gore. There was a sharp pop at the end of the man’s twist as his neck snapped from the force of the blow.

Still dragging his injured captive Garrett started back towards the line of horses making use of his armor to block the on his left shoulder which was where the Kite shield hung, or simply running down the bandits before they could draw their bow. None of their weapons were adequate to penetrate the steel of Garrett’s plate armor as he cut the brainless, poorly, trained fools down like so much wheat.

Tossing the man on the ground Garrett trapped him face down in the churned mud. Taking his kite shield off the large Knight simply stood and waited with his captive. The kite shield fended off any offending stray arrows as Garrett simply took in the sight of the other knights dealing with the bandits. It wasn’t really his style to stand and wait but this was a good opportunity to take their measure; that and he doubted any of them would have bothered with a captive given the fact that they had been ambushed.

Garrett laughed again at Sult’s comment. She certainly was a fiery little number; the big man filed it away for further contemplation. With a bellow at her retreating form he ground his heel on his captive “Fine! Go have fun on your own you little fluzy! I have my own friend here so I have no need of you.” With another chuckle to himself Garrett checked to make sure his captive was still breathing.

@AtomicNut