Mas Bagus

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"Captain, are we sure trusting Dromele to lead us is for the best? While it is true that we have to gain some distance from the garrison, perhaps it's wiser not to go where Dromele attempt to lead us until we can verify the veracity of his claim."

Carmen slowed his horse.

The crossroad had already been behind them since a moment ago, and now they are riding toward a path of uncertainty. Although his hunch told him that this Dromele fellow was trustworthy, the skepticism has its merit.

"Lady Carnathia has a point there, Dromele." Carmen did not look back when he said that, his voice was calm and patient, that kind of patience that deep down hinted leniency you shouldn't cross.

"You have nothing to fear from us. And God is my witness, there will be no harm to those who speak the truth."

And under that charismatic gesture, the peasant finally wavered.

"It's... bodies s-sire. Five of em, tied on poles. Been rotted badly when I found them sir, but them--- I mean some of them wore same colors and priest clothing like you and Master Thomas wore. Pardon me words sir, but they've been broken like pit-roasted piglets, me thought they'd been dead for weeks."

There was a profound silence for a while. The horse remained trotting, but Carmen looked like he was sitting still. Until he inquired monotonely:

"Are you sure the corpses were them? You said you saw Paladin's entourage before in Katwiz, is there any of the bodies that matched with the priest and priestess you saw earlier?"

"Entrouge, sire?"

"Entourage, his friends."

"That I can't say for sure, sire, for crows've pecked their faces, or-or their faces were burned badly."

Carmen was silent again. Inside his head, a mixture of dejection and anger started to swirl. The first party he blamed was that damn elf from the council. If only she hadn't stalled the mission, maybe, just maybe, those priests could be saved.

"And you will lead us to them?"

"Ye-yes sire." still stammering, the peasant continued. "I am sorry for your loss sire. Again, I didn't mean to lie to you, but folks here including meself had seen the soldiers beatin' and killin' fellows who found their dead friends on many occasions, blaming us for siding with the rebels in mad anger. Sire, you wont be hittin me, aren't you?"

"No," Answered Carmen, still not looking back. There was another silence until he turned to Carnathia.

"What do you think, Baronesa Carnathia?"

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

The peasant gazed at the circus man in disbelief before looking down, refusing to shake his hands. His general mien was still nervous, but his voice sounded like that of an offended man.

Even after Ludvig exclaimed that he believed him.

"Pardon sir. Me name's Dromele. I'snt me intention to be suspicious with words, but I wish no harm, sir, nor the harm for meself. Guiding you and yous to a trap's never crossed me mind. Please hit me not for that, I just want to repay your kindness. Cuff me hands if you like, or put me down, and tell me to begone, and I shant trouble you no more."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"You said you only saw them once and did not see them again after. But earlier, you also said that you know where, in your words, 'our folks' are."

The peasant glanced at her and then to the road behind and answered nervously. "I said I knew where they went, milady, and 'twas Katwiz they were headed, also the last time I see them."

"What exactly did people say happened to them and what is this 'not-so-cheery-thing' you plan to show us?"

"Many things. Words from next-door wenches said they went to the crone in the forest and never came back. Some said the General's men captured them. Others said they tried to go back but wolves got them all. Many things, milady, but I know certainly what happened to a few of Clerics man. Terrible things, but fraid I shant speak about it here. Not as long as mebody's with you. You will see for yourself, that won't be too far."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

"They know who we are now. If they report us to their superiors, whoever they might be, or their forces, it would make it quite hard for us to move around and investigate the paladin's whereabouts, wouldn't it?"

"The righteous path is seldom an easy one." "Misguided and blind as they may be, they had their order as we had ours. We could either constantly butt heads at every turn or let the matter rest, the latter being much easier when they're alive."

"True, I would prefer something more diplomatic," Carmen said, glancing at Mirielle and Ludvig. "Even if they refuse to talk, we can always take another route; God willing, the path will reveal itself." pausing, he pursed his lips. "But that would mean we forsake our fellow men, and that didn't sit right with me. Besides all said and done, I believe this is all a fated counter, and all we can do is to make the most of it."

"Hmm, no.
As far as matters resting, killing them might be the best thing to do right now."

"But I too believe it would be better if you don't jump on someone ever so often, Master Ludvig. As for your question, such a drastic measure is unjustified for now. If the concern is us being fugitives, I say the ramifications would be a lot worse if we outright slaughter them. Now let us put this behind us. The gunshots could be heard from miles away, and would be no surprise if some of their friends were already on the move."

Carmen had started to trot away from the scene, followed by Ludvig who now lay down on the beast's back like it was a couch. Been almost 40 days on the road with him, and nothing surprises Carmen anymore, but sometimes he couldn't help but grin when seeing his antics.

The peasant guided them toward the crossroad they passed earlier and they would take the one leading southward.

"You there, you say you know where the group we are looking for went? From what you said, it seemed that you saw them yourself. What about the paladin leading them? What can you tell us of him?"

The peasant managed. "I only saw the Paladin once, milady. In Katwiz. But twas months ago, I lived in Olbey and had things to tend to. Looked like honorable man, strong but he ain't flaunting it, he helped the sick in fact. He had a lady following him, similarly decorated, looks only slightly younger than him. She heals peasantries too if me mind serves me right. Never saw both again since."

He shook his head gloomily. "Sad to hear what happened to them. Folks said a lot of things, none of em pretty. But sorry, sire, milady, but what I will show you ain't gonna be something cheery."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

As Ludvig grabbed the musketeer's bloody hands and channeled his magic to heal him, a terrible shrill could be heard, even with a handkerchief in the mouth, it sounded like someone was being tortured by dipping their hands on a molten bronze.

The sergeant scowled at Carnathia in a mix of anger and resolution. He could not look at what had been done to his men, but he could hear, and he could picture what his assailants were up to. The icy contraption still bound him to the ground, and at that moment he looked like he was ready to accept his fate.

"Wench got nothing else to ask but to repeat your questions?" He glared at Carmen and Carnathia, before spatting. "Go to hell, suka! Ptoy! You will not get anything from me. Do your worst! Come on!"

He howled, as loud as he could. And then he laughed when Amanita walked closer and started to expose him with her spores.

"What? Putting a hex on me now?! Hahahaha! Why are you playing dumb?" he jolted himself and struggled harder, this time he looked terrified for real before finally, the spores did their things. The man snorted and finally stopped howling like a wounded animal. But he spoke no word, only his gaze looked deep into his opponent's eyes as if mentally remembering every shape and contour of their faces.

"There is no salvation in this land," he muttered calmly, but definitely in delirium. "Let them steal and more will come and do the same. Give them small punishment and they will spit on your face. Vodka, I need vodka. Miss vodka! Been months since our last supply... know nothing about your fancy god-lover."

----

When the Sergeant bantered with the rest of the team, the peasant approached Carmen with trembling legs.
"Thousands of pardons, sire. This poor fellow will forever be grateful of your rescue, but methinks we should leave this place. I know where your folks are..." he looked at the road ahead, and with a shivering voice, continued. "We's close to the red stripes camp, and 'fraid them soldiers will come anytime to check on their friends."

Nodding, Carmen asked. "How many are they in their camps?"

"Aint no sure, sire, but no less than a hundred red stripes. Could be wrong, for I isn't from here."

Carmen reassuringly tapped the peasant's shoulder and clapped his hands to quickly gather everyone's attention.

"We need to move now," he announced. "Quickly, before this place turns into another Vesnaggrad. Amaris, Mirielle, Ludvig, por favor! let us leave this place and leave those soldiers be! Peasant, you will ride with me, show us the way."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

The last musketeer's attempt to escape was abruptly foiled when Ludvig suddenly teleported ahead of him. with his executioner friend no less. The impact made some nasty thud that you can hear if you were standing close but seemed like a comical, laugh-inducing smash-up when viewed from the distance.

The soldiers lost consciousness almost immediately, at least they would only suffer heavy concussions and not certain death, right?

In the aftermath of that messy but exhilarating chaos, Carmen went to the peasant and removed the sack from his head.

"Can you stand? Can you walk? Look at me! Breath, amigos! You are safe now. Focus!" The peasant only nodded, but to make sure, Carmen slapped his temple to make him gather his wit faster, even so, it would take some time for him to catch his breath and regain his sense.

__

“Well, that was exciting.” said Osric. “Perhaps we can stop this farce, and figure out where we go from here? Hmm… Judging by your expression, that’s probably not going to happen.”

The sergeant looked up, completely subdued, now the only thing he could do was to entertain those bastards. He smiled bitterly. Let them think they had the upper hand, the reinforcement would come soon anyway.

"You are a funny guy, let me tell you where we go from here." He spat before shouting like he was in delirium. "You will be dead, BLYATS! Don't you know who we are?! Oh, I think you do! Who sent you, hah? Those damn traitors? Or could be That witch in the mountain? Crone got some new lackeys I see."

"We don't know who they are, good sir." Said Carmen, after helping the peasant stand up. "But we would like to know who they are, and my question earlier about people we seek. Seems you were not telling the whole truth."

"Poshol na khuy, Spies! I have no authority or obligation to answer to you! I see that you are rescuing that scumbag! Kha-ha! Ty smotri, criminals are quick to recognize each other."

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.