Barely raising his head, Rolard took a moment to look over the ragged group of bandits that approached their wagon. Clearly this was not the creme de la creme of bandit gangs, far from, these poor curs looked to be the runts of the pack, to weak to challenge any of the other major gangs, taking the scraps they managed to come across. Little did they know they had bitten off a great deal more than they could chew. Plenty of bandits, highwaymen and low lifes had been cut down by the Breton. To him, they were all just another mark to add to his tally.
"Alright, girly, hand over the goods and nobody will die today." Tch, on top of looking pathetic they can barely muster up a true threat. I almost feel sorry for them.
Ihylin however stuck with their shtick, so he complied, and when she nudged him he let out a hacking cough,
"P-Peryite said he would bless us... He said he would bless us he did." The ex-noble muttered madly beneath his cloak, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. This caused many of the assorted thugs to backpedal, wanting nothing to do with a disease ridden wagon, and a possible cultist to boot! Rolard swore he even heard one of them mutter a prayer to the Divines. Ironic given they were the ones attempting to mug and murder them.
One in their midst seemed to drug addled to comprehend this potential threat, clearly one ten to many doses of Skooma for his own good judging by the way he twitched and spasmed. Letting out a shrill scream and charged the cart.
Thank the Divines, no more of this bloody charade. Even as the Redguard drug addict had his head smashed in by their horse, Rolard tossed off his robe, revealing glistening runic armor, arcane runes etched in ancient Bretonic scrawled across it.
However before he could intercede, his employer decided to make a mad dash to the woods, prompting two of the bandits to eagerly pursue.
"Ihylin, Divines woman you were supposed to stay where I could guard you!" He cried out to her before leaping off the cart, landing with a resounding thud that kicked up a splash of mud and dirt, squaring off before the supposed 'chief' of this paltry group.
"Pha, well aren't you all nice and shiny! I'm gonna look forward to looting your corpse, and then I'mma join my boys and have a proppa good time with your lady friend, now that we know she ain't some disease ridden wretch." The Imperial barked in a rather in-eloquent fashion, made all the more disgusting to hear with his crooked, rotted smile, nose permanently crooked. A truly disgusting and vile sort of creature. Rolard was all to happy to put him down.
A predatory smile came over the veteran knights face as he drew his bastard sword from his scabbard, enchanted white ebony shimmering even with the heavily clouded sky.
"Now, now my friend. Is that anyway to speak about a lady?"
The Imperial cocked an eyebrow for a moment, before Rolard descended upon him,
Saphfire singing as it tore threw the air. The Imperial barely had time to raise battle-axe, just blocking the blow from his would-be 'victim', the strike rattling him to his very core. Any arrogance the leader had quickly drained and face became pale as he found himself hounded by a flurry of strikes from the bastard sword. The chieftain attempted to get in a few desperate blows, only to be side-stepped or parried, and receive a nasty slice from the white ebony sword in response. After another locking of blades, the chieftain pushed off Rolard, giving him precious time to produce a vial of sickish purple.
Skooma... Well plops.
As the drug began to flow through his veins, a wild look came into the Imperials eyes, much the same as the Redguard as he launched himself in another frenzied assault. While he completely outclassed the bandit, Skooma added an unnatural strength and speed to even the most pathetic of would be warriors, and Rolard was pressed to keep up with how quick the axe began moving, before actually managing to break his defense, slicing across his left arm. However no cry of pain was heard from the azure eyed warrior, instead a low, savage growl. It was an insult to be so much as touched by such an unworthy opponent.
"I've had just about enough of this." He growled to the drugged bandit leader as he ducked beneath another swing, leaving him completely exposed. Taking full advantage of this, in one swift motion
Saphfire cleaved through the mans leg, sending him tumbling to the ground, where the blade once again came to meet him. A shocked expression was frozen on the Imperials face as it was decapitated, send spiraling through the air so clean and powerful was the cut. A burst of blood spurted out of stump where his head once was before collapsing to the ground.
"Oblivion take your soul." Were the only words offered to the bandit, before his attention was turned elsewhere. Valencia had her opponents well in hand, one of the brutes quickly falling to her blade, her fighting style impeccable. Very few received such training... Knights received it.
This was shoved to the back of his mind for now, as his auburn haired tormentor was somewhere in the woods with two ill intentioned thugs.
"Damnit it all, Ihylin? Ihylin, where are you?" His voice cried out towards the dense woods, Rolard breaking into a spring towards where he last saw her.
You're not dying on my watch.
@Hart @Zelda