Mas Bagus

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

'Enough!" Carmen barked."Senor, attacking a lady is unacceptable! You are outnumbered! Tell your men to stand down!"

"Tell your wenches then to stand down! I knew it! You all are foreign spies! Alert! Aler-"

The chains clinked and swirled, and nearby, The Sergeant's eyes widened when he realized that the chaos had unfolded just by a mere second.

He was only given a moment to recover from the prior stagger, and with attention divided between two fronts, his reactionary was poor when Rezello slugged him on the back of his calf. Apparently, he was strong enough to withstand a full blow from the mercenary's bec de corbin albeit bending down to both feel and scream upon the sudden pain.

But his endurance would be short-lived.

He did not realize there was a mechanical contraption, made of clear ice, closing in and pouncing at him. Now pinned to the ground, the spider-like drone had already gripped his chest with its sturdy legs, and from its front mandibles, emerged an icy broadhead of a bolt.
Still trying to wrestle with that thing, the Sergeant's iron gauntlet grabbed the ice bolt while his other, similarly armored hand repeatedly pummeled the spider's anterior, breaking the bolt, and sprinkling him with shards of ice.

Then he heard a loud gunfire, a click, and a warning, immediately discerning that it wasn't from their muskets, but from the enemy's, and the next shot would be at him.

“Don’t even try it.”

The sergeant let go of his hands from the icy monstrosity, thick-headed as he may, he knew it when his options had run out.

_______

The hangman was barely flinched when Ludvig threw the musket ball at him, but at least his attention was now on him. Already recovered from the result of his wayward attack, the soldier was on guard, and looking at the sizes of their weapons, those who had the upper hand should be obvious.

But this was not a one-versus-one brawl. All was fair in war.

At the same time, Carnathia was rushing behind the Soldier's back. Her rapier punctured him at the back of his knee right above his greaves and she finished by driving her sword sideways. The toughest Tretagorian might be able to withstand pain, but damage to tendons was unmistakenly devastating.

Being brought down to his knees, it was Ludvig's turn now to charge forth and kicked the soldier's hand with a roundhouse spin, disarming him in the process. As Carnathia retreated to an at-the-ready stance, The circus man then lunged forth, rushing to the soldier's rear to chokehold him. One of Ludvig' palms started glowing, and it was the only moment they would hear that particular soldier grunting.

_______

Suddenly a thin spore engulfs the rear lines, and those with immense zeal will find their resolve doubled.

Mireille's bright light was searing them, but their heathen jaws were locked from screaming the word magic. For it was not the work of a mage craft, but rather, the blessing from the divine, and those godless rouge would witness the power of faith with their own eyes.

Or maybe not. They were staggering, cursing, and closing their eyes with their arms, a blatant sign of Deniers denying the Creator's gift. One of the musketeers drew his short sword, but a bullet had shredded half of his palm, disarming him, courtesy of Osric's precision aim.

The second musketeer blindly moved forward, screeching in pain as he gripped his musket by the barrel and swung it forward like a club. At the same time, Amaris shot her chain and had it coiled on the musket, yanking it off from the soldier's grip and with its spiky links, shredding the weapon to pieces as the chains returned to its owner.

Being this close to Mirielle, the musketeer knelt and turned unresponsive, either of exhaustion, or mind-broken.

Meanwhile, the last musketeer stumbled backward, and by chance, looked away from the burning light. Sensing that their defense was lost, he started to make a quick, mad run toward the village.

"Enemy attack! We are under attack!" he cried.

_____

Seeing that all soldiers seemed to have been apprehended, Carmen swished his sabre in frustration before unsheathing it. In the distance, he saw the fleeing musketeer and he ordered:

"Someone, stop that runner!"

Only Amanita responded by walking toward the sergeant and innocently asked.

"The Spider is cute. What's it's name?"

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

In a matter of seconds, a group that had never seen any battle for two straight weeks suddenly instigated one for themselves. Mirrielle was the first to charge forth, bypassing the sergeant at breakneck speed toward the three other musketeers, who had positioned themself 20 meters from their sergeant.

Simultaneously, two of the group's frontliners had suddenly repositioned themselves near the hanged man and one of the soldiers. A blade swung to cut the rope, and the poor peasant dropped with a thud. But at least he breathed.

Landing smoothly, Ludvig spoke nonchalantly.

"Greetings, mortals. Fine morning we have today.
So, are you loyalists or revolutionists? Doesn't matter, you're all the same anyway. Do y'all know of a Paladin by the name of Thomas?"

His answer was delivered in the form of a swing of an axe from a nearby soldier, but years of experience in the circus taught Ludvig a thing or two about preparing to evade such an onslaught. He spun a swift pirouette, and the soldiers tumbled off balance as his axe struck empty air.

----

Meanwhile, at the same time, the sergeant was clearly not amused by Carnathia's blatherings. Although some diplomatic words were clearly understood, the gesture this group showed was clearly the opposite. How could they parley when three of them had already invaded the boundaries, releasing a criminal and pointing weapons at them? There was no turning back.

He was quick to assume a stance, and the follow-up jab was delivered almost instantly. Carnathia evaded instinctively, and Carmen sprung into action to prevent another follow-up. With his saber, he parried the outstretching axe and deflected it sideways, away from Carnathia.

Meanwhile, the baroness dived low into her opponent's defense and countered with a quick slash on the sergeant's gambeson before deftly retreating back to her position.

The man was startled by the sudden strike, but beneath that gambeson, he wore a chainmail and a few layers of leather. The attack did not go through but caused him to take a few steps back.

'Enough!" Carmen barked."Senor, attacking a lady is unacceptable! You are outnumbered! Tell your men to stand down!"

For a brief second, just a fraction of it, the sergeant seemed to consider, but the loud bang from the musketeers sealed the deal.

___

Someone who charged straight into a firing line would either have a death wish or a highly formidable opponent. That was what their training dictated.

Similar to archery, shooting takes skills, and in Tretagorian's massive army reserves, it was what differed the marksmen from the common ground troops. They were well-trained, and trained to use their brains on the battlefield. A common grunt needed only to swing a weapon, but the marksmen had no luxury of follow-up shot, and thus every shot must be counted.

From the safety of their temporal distance, one musketeer fired at the charging inquisitor. Meanwhile the other aimed at Ludvig after timing his movement.
Smokes and burning stench of gunpowder permeated in the air. The first shot ricocheted off Mirielle's divine armor, While the second shot hit Ludvig on his collarbone.
They only had one second to congratulate, because it was now apparent to them that the Inquisitor was not stopping, and in fact, closing the distance rapidly.

By the next second, the last musketeer fired his musket, but the divine armor still prevailed.
By the third count, they were already in Mirielle's striking range.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"The Order of The Golden Sun does not recognize your authority over this land."

The sergeant moved to block the advancing Mirelle. Now he had two inquisitors in front of him, and God knows how long their patience would last. But the order was the order still.

"What? Who says...?!I suggest you step back. Lady." He said, now pointing poleaxe at Mirielle. He did not fail to notice the change of air around that woman, but, Mirielle too should know that soldiers were not her run-of-the-mill cult members; they were trained to remain unwavering under pressure, and as natives of Tretagorian harsh environment, they had seen worse.

"We will be taking custody of that man. Stand aside, or be made to."

"You do not want to do this!" the sergeant shouted at her. "Move! Or we will put you down! Do you really want to die for a scoundrel?!"

Behind that sergeant, three of his men had already taken a safe distance and were now in position to fire their muskets. Things were escalating quickly.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Time flies and their session in that tavern continued. Some would spend the rest of the day chatting with each other, annoying the barkeep some more, or strolling around the town, shopping for provisions or just anything Dragon's Maw had to offer.

Carmen rested in his room until sunset and woke up when it was time for dinner. There were some small celebrations, notably from some veterans who served under his command. While he no longer participates in rowdy carouses, he could afford to stay for a while and entertain his old peers for a while, telling the story about the order and his past missions.

And then he would retreat to his room and get another sleep.

The next morning, after a round of tasty breakfast, the group left Dragon's Maw without delay, each riding their horses. Nine people heading straight to No Man's Land, and no one sent them off or wished them good luck. Such a gloomy way to continue a long journey, but not something unexpected.

******

The No Man's Land

Life begins at the other side of despair. We cannot escape anguish. It is what we are.
_______

Weeks of grueling journeys on horseback would make anyone appear disheveled and drained, but the emptiness of the great steppe that stretched from Dragon's Maw to Sielse was almost nauseating. But it also has its boon, the plainness of the land made it easier to spot anyone over the distance, and considering the reputation of Tretagor, it at least made it easier to sleep at night.

So, when the group finally arrived at Sielse, there was a joyous feeling when the staple scenery was green forest again, although the occasional rains would hamper their journey and make their dinner cold, the change of atmosphere was pretty much welcomed.

It was, until eleven days passed since they crossed into the war-torn province.

In many places, the sign of blight could be seen in the forestry. And houses, either ruined or abandoned, had become the occasional varieties to see along the way. It was hard to imagine what fate befallen the inhabitants, but one thing was for sure, Carmen knew they had to double their vigilance.

Today was the thirteenth day since they crossed the border.

The smell of mud and horse dung made Carmen spit on the brown tarnished earth below. It was still morning and some of them had slept half the time healthy person was supposed to.

After seeing the first sign of slaughter, the fellowship had decided that a night watch was necessary. The threat from wild animals, especially during wartime was very real. Not only that, they also need to watch out for potential danger from fellow humans. They had yet to witness any battle, but the aftermath of it had been very apparent so far.

Followed by others, The Captain guided his horse to walk slowly. Ahead of them, there was a wooden beam placed diagonally on top of two crossing logs. At the summit of that beam dangled a dried skeleton.

It was the first time the vulgar memento of the cruelty of war laid bare before them, but that poor hangman was not the only sign Carmen was focused on. In the distance, there was a faint trail of smoke ascending, and as they rode further, the sound of someone crying for help could be heard.

____

"You hear that?" Carmen raised his index finger and reined his horse to stop. "Sounds like someone is in distress. Let's find them!"

Either moved by a sense of duty as a clergyman or simply tired of not encountering any locals for almost two weeks, the captain raced his horse toward the source of the voice. Thankfully the voice did not guide him off the beaten path, but rather, straight to the country road they intended to take.

"It wasn't me! You gotta believe me! Gods! Gods In the sky! Mercy for this poor soul!"

The cries were clearer now, but after that only silence followed. Thankfully the person in distress could be easily located after they rode past a turn. But something was amiss.

Dead ahead they could see six people, five clad in red-striped uniforms while the last men wore ragged clothes often associated with peasantries. One of the uninformed men bashed the peasant's chest with his musket, while another had already collared that peasant with a rope affixed to a similar wooden apparatus they had seen earlier.

The arrival of the fellowship startled the men, who immediately assumed a position to attack.

""Halt! Halt! Who goes there?! State your business or we will hang you like pigs!" One of the men shouted and pointed his poleaxe toward the incoming riders. Unlike his friends, this man wore a distinctive metal helmet and seemed sturdier and more armored, giving the impression that he outranked all others.

"We mean you no harm!" answered Captain Friston, slowing his horse and eventually dismounted. "My name is Carmen Andario Friston, We are from The Order of The Golden Sun, and I approach you without any intention to incite hostility, we are simply here to look for someone."

"Golden Sun? Never heard about it. Who is this someone?!" Hoarsed the sergeant, who upon closer inspection looked like soldiers belonging to an unknown faction, presumably Tretagorian revolutionists from their color scheme, but they lacked any identifiable insignias.

"That will be our Paladin, Thomas Sanders, and volunteers. Perhaps you have seen him? Or heard about him and his group? They were dressed in blue like us."

"Oh yah? What are they doing in these parts?"

Carmen offered the man one of his friendliest smiles. "To help the locals, Good Sir. Paladin Thomas and some of his attendees are capable doctors and healers. They are here to practice the pillars of our teaching, which is to do good to all living beings. Sadly we have been in lost contact with Paladin and all of his entourage. So please sir, if there is something you know, would you kindly inform us?"

When Carmen mentioned the Paladin's predicament, the sergeant snorted like he had offended him somehow. "We know nothing. This region is under military supervision and you all have entered unlawfully. I suggest you turn back to your country, pronto!"

It was Carmen's turn to frown. "Excuse me?"

Before the disagreement could continue, they were interrupted by the peasant, who already had his head covered by a burlap sack and standing on top of a wooden stool with a rope around his neck to keep him from falling over. Behind the coarse fabric, his desperate voice cracked by the tension from the rope and fear of death.

"Sir, I know who you are looking for! I saw them, clad in blue like royalty, had a sword but never raised against the poor and defenseless. Came with lads and gals! I know sir and I know where they went... please save me, save me sire! I ain't do no wrong I swear!"

Hearing that, the sergeant looked even more agitated. He looked back and shouted. "Quiet! Argh! Just drop the bastard!"

One of the soldiers kicked the stool, and what followed was an agonizing strangling voice of a man.

"You heard what I said. Return to your country while you can. And While we still ask nicely."

But Carmen's attention was already on the dying peasant. "What crimes he was guilty of?"

"That's none of your business, but I will tell you anyway. He hunted animals and stole grains from Eldorman's warehouse. A capital offense, but we had hanged people for less. Now, there you go! Answered your question, Get lost! All of you before I hang you all too!"

A mixed feeling of anger, frustration, and doubt now swirled inside Captain Friston's head. As he watched the peasant struggling for breath, he wasn't only seeing a man being punished unjustly, but also his chance to find Thomas being taken away from him. Sternly, he looked at the sergeant, and in that moment, he knew he had to make a choice.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"It was an exquisite dish. The Dunkel in particular paired well with the Schweinsaxe. The Dunkel's caramel and nutty undertones of highlight the roasted flavours in the meat. Furthermore, though the juicy and flavourful meat of the pork's roasted crust was very tangible, it would risk being too overbearing, diminishing the taste of the side dish and the apfelstrudel dessert. However, you even compensated by giving a Dunkel brew with more bitterness, helping cleanse the palate and connecting the dishes. Mycompliments to the chef. If you wish to open a branch or relocate to the Vauclair Barony up North, I would welcome it. As the Baroness, I might even be inclined to set aside some funding."

"The tip. More than deserved considering my admittedly rather outrageous request.

Oswald the barkeep seemed very happy to hear that, although some words from Carnathia's review was lost in him, the additional tip made him stay and listen.

"Why of course, that's a serious compliment, Guv, most of me patrons ere come only to fill their pot and usually ain't care about the taste as long the portion is right. I will tell Nob bout this, and your proposition. Thank you."

____

"I'd say it's about time we wrap up our soiree, no? But before that, is there anything important you found out from the Castellan?"

Carmen finished his meal and set aside his empty plate, taking time to wear his hat before answering. "Only unusual tales about lack of refugees trying to cross the border, and one of the horses borrowed by Paladin's group was returned... without its rider."

The last part made the air in that room turn rather gloomy and Ludvig's question suddenly had more weight in it.

"I only know one thing, Master Ludvig. Paladin Thomas is the most selfless person I know, and everything he does is for the betterment of others. Only the most vile would wish him or his aides harm, and such a specimen of beings does not deserve to live. If we have to kill to cleanse the world from such abominations, then Dios está con nosotros."

Then Captain Friston was silent, deep down he knew from the beginning that their mission was not at all peaceful. The possibilities that caused Paladin Thomas's disappearance were many, and almost all of them were bad news. The report from the Castellan further reinforced that notion.

But despite that, he prayed to God that his sword would stay in its scabbard.

"But sometimes there are ignorants amongst the vicious." He continued, still answering Ludvig's question and everyone in general. "I pray you will be able to exercise patience and restraint toward those people, for even the Creator Himself will not punish those who are unaware of His Revelation."

@Randomguy@Cale Henituse

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Linceleste paused and elegantly wiped her lips with her handkerchief. Turning her attention to Carmen and said, "I see. I will see it myself after the meal and recheck the health of those horses and will do resupply the needs after it.

Also, I'll take your order on my tab. Skipper." She said to Carmen and continued her eating and still kept her ears from the surroundings.

"That is not necessary." Answered the captain, rather than happy to hear it, he looked rather troubled. "It was already paid, and all expenses during this trip have been accounted for. Do not trouble yourself, or the soldiers in that outpost."

At that moment, Oswald the barkeep returned with Carmen's order. "Here they are, Sir, our signature Sausage Roll and pale ale. Enjoy."

The captain placed his hat on the table and smiled for the first time since this morning. "Muchas gracias, please don't take that senorita's coins. Thank you."

Soon after, the barkeep has already hovered around the counter, where his first guest already called.

"Blast it with the sauerkraut... Oswald, could I have a sausage roll as well, please?
Also do you have, um... a sprinkle jar of minced garlic? Do you sell 'em? I'd like one of those to go."

Sighing to contain his frustration, Oswald the barkeep went into the kitchen with nary a word and returned with another sausage roll on a plate, with the sauerkraut served in a separate saucer. It seemed the word 'blast it with sauerkraut' confused him more than Old Westernian long words, or he understood the order but found the idea of desecrating his proud hometown dish to be a horrendous affair.

"This ain't a grocery store. We aint got no minced garlic ere!"

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Again, don't stay too long, do your duty and get back. Me inn's door's always open and yous can spend winter here."

"We will keep that in mind," interjected Carmen, there was a noticeable gruffness in his tone. "Señor, why don't you bring me some pale ale and food?

The barkeep stood up from his chair and glanced at the captain, the Barkeep's rounded stature seemed diminishing under Carmen's sharp gaze.

"Sure, Sir. What would you like?"

"Anything will do. Por pavor!"

Without any more ado, the Barkeep left.

Sitting down, Carmen took a minute to get rid of the frowns on his face. "I've spoken with city Castellan and he agreed to trade his horse with ours. There will be no delay with our departure."

Everyone knew that their scheduled leave would be tomorrow morning, but the unexpected matter was it didn't take too long for Carmen to return from his supposedly important talk with the local commander. Was there some disagreement? Only the captain would know.

"The food is good?" He said, turning at Mirielle and Amaris.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"More unusual than us, eh? You must see some interesting people out here on the frontier, friend."

"Oh you betcha! If it wos about bizarre appearance, then no folks can top those sarkaz mercs from Dagorlad. Come here once every blue moon for mercs jobs or just guardin' caravans. If it's bout personality, then those rogues from the guild should be the top contenders, play cards here for some nights while laughing and exchangin' tales bout their latest swindlin'. Those damn charlatans usually stopped laughing when they got too drunk and blathered up their latest source of fortune for everyone to hear."

The barkeep watched intently when the mercenary brought the food to his masked mouth, curious how the man would chew his meal, but then quickly realized that he had behaved impudently, so he continued.

"One thing for sure, fool as they may, no blokes with good heads on their shoulders would risk crossing to Sielse. Not anymore after the last winter, when the latest news about the latest batch of mercs stopped flowing. That's why I said they went on a one-way trip."

As for a 'one-way' trip, well... Whatever we're here to accomplish, I'm hoping it'll turn out two-way. I expect most of my allies here would agree."

"But, who knows how things will turn out. Tell you what, though, if I do return, I'll be coming back for some more of the best sausage rolls in the east."

The barkeep smiled.

"Then I owe ye some useful tips. Whatever your business might be in Sielse, better do it fast, and don't wait for anything, and I mean anything. Y'all must go home before November, lest yous will have to survive there until spring, and the more time you spend there the more it will mess your--"

The barkeep tapped his temple with his stubby finger.

"Things used to be more simple there a half-decade ago. On one side of the barn, you got that bloody loyalist, and on the other, there wos them heathen revolutionists. But these days I heard nobody can tell which pricks control that region. There used to be waves of refugees coming from Sielse, but today, all is quiet, like midnight quiet in a cemetery and we no longer see anyone trying to flee that no man's land. Sure, the bloody Tommies would detain illegal refugees, but surely staying behind bars is much better than staying in that God-forsaken land. Again, don't stay too long, do your duty and get back. Me inn's door's always open and yous can spend winter here."

@Valkon

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"Knodel and Schweinshaxe sound wonderful for the main dish! Although, if possible, I would like a sausage roll with some black beer for the appetizer. I don't mind a reinforced breakfast, seeing the long way we probably still have ahead of us."

"I'll have the sausage roll. And some water please, thank you."

"Beer, more sausage. Nob! More of that swine legs and fried mashed potatoes of yours! And wother? Again? What's wrong with people these days?"

Seeing that nobody seemed to care about his cockney remark (not that he cares as long as they are ordering), Oswald returned to the kitchen to oversee the preparation and maybe give Nob some hand.

All dishes had been cooked, but before he put them on a tray and started serving, Oswald checked his list, not the kind he uses to keep everyone's order on the tab, but the list of people The Order had informed and their general appearance.

And their appearance was as insane as described, making the fat barkeep wonder what kind of faithful nutjob commissioned this mission. What mission? It was a secret they said in their letter.

He had everything served in no time, and since everyone was busy talking with each other, he decided to read the room and not meddle with his snarky remark.

"Quite a colourful bunch you have here." Oswald now sat at Rezello's table and placed a mug of beer and a plate of sausage rolls. "On the house." He gestured.

"Can't say yous are the most unusual though. I've seen more mercs like you folks cross the border in these past two years. Usually they got no papers with them, means one-way trip to no man's land. You, eh... got a similar purpose?"

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

“I think I’ll pass on the pig scraps and pickled cabbage. I’ll have some of that coffee, if there’s any left. And a sausage roll sounds like a hearty enough breakfast, so I’ll have that. Here’s hoping Carnatia’s meal doesn’t take up the too much of the Ktichen’s time to whip up.”

"Now we talk business eh! Goodd choice, simple and not bothersome." said the barkeep happily, pointing his graphite at Oswald. "Nah, no need not to worry about the bloody queue, Nob had made quite a batch this early morning, so sit tight! Coffee and sausage roll coming right up!"

Later, the eccentric man Ludwig called.

『 Ludvig 』 "Oh, I'll have some of that sauerkraut as well.
And some water, please. Thank you."

"Throat's getting sewer-ish I see. Don't worry mate, A water and them nasty cabbages!"

When Oswald wrote it down that blonde lady finally ordered, what a time indeed.

"Mine is a sausage roll, please. And give me your recommendation for a drink that suits with it,"

"Fancy that roll of dem sausage I see," he remarked, only to frown upon seeing the last part of what he just wrote. "milady, this is a bar.
We serve booze here for the most part if you haven't noticed. If ye ask me a nice drink except for spirits? Then I say you've got wo'er... with sugar, savvy?"

****

On a wooden tray, another freshly brewed coffee, black beer and two mugs of water (one sweetened) were ready to be delivered. The barkeep seemed to work both as a bartender and server, and he had all the drinks delivered in no time. His paunchy frame didn't seem to slow him down at all.

Now, he had already retreated to the kitchen, and would soon return to the common room with a tray consisting of already cooked pastry, tongs, and three relatively clean plates.

"Nob hasn't returned, so the cabbage has to wait, me afraid. Enjoy!" He said enthusiastically, to both Oswald and Lynx after personally plating the dish.

"Sadly we serve no pastry, and this town ain't got any bakery as far I remember," he said to Carnathia, waving the tongs. "Unless you want to knock on ole' Brenda's door. Damned sure she always bakes that flaky dessert of yours. In the meantime, fancy some sausage rolls, ma'am?"