Bloodforged, Part 3

[edonil]

"So, what are we going to do?" Phelan asked. He leaned back in his chair and looked around the table, glancing at each of the leaders of the local militia, before settling his gaze on Sabine.

One of the younger members of the group, named Jack, pursed his lips, then said, "I'm not sure we should do anything. I mean, we all came here to protect this town. Anything we can do would have us leaving."

"Really?" replied Murphy sarcastically. "Don'tcha think that we know that?"

Jack raised his hands palms up. "Hey, I'm just throwing it out there. No offense, Sergeant," he nodded his head at the visitor in the room. "But a company of mercenaries getting jumped in the middle of the wilderness a few days ago doesn't mean we need to get involved. Convoys get attacked all the time. What makes this any different?"

"It's too close to home for my liking," Phelan said. "Besides, we got attacked right around that time. You honestly think there's two groups of bandits out there?" He shook his head. "Too much of a coincidence, that."

"I'm afraid the good doctor is right," the mercenary sergeant said. "Our group is new to Malifaux as a whole, but I've been here before. Human bandits are rare and few between, and I don't see gremlins being able to pull off something like these two attacks quite that smoothly." He leaned away from the wall he was leaning on toward Jack. "Besides, young man, if they weren't intimidated by thirty armed men and women, what makes you think you and your group is going to scare them off? You really want to give them the initiative, and let them come to you?" He snorted contemptuously, and leaned back.

"Oh yeah?!" Jack snapped back, shoving himself to his feet. "At least we weren't stupid enough to let ourselves get jumped in the middle of the night in Malifaux, you stupid-"

The sergeant stepped forward, hands raised, eyes blazing with fury. "You little-"

"Enough!" Sabine ordered, her voice cracking like a whip. "Both of you! Sit. Down." She glared at the two men, the scar on her face flushed red with anger. The sergeant sneered and went back to his spot at the wall as Jack settled in his seat. "Anyone have any useful suggestions? Because I'm not about to sit around waiting for another attack."

"What if we make an ambush of our own?" Phelan asked.

"How?" Sabine said after a few moments.

"Let's get together some of the militia, and whoever is strong enough to fight from the mercenaries, and go investigate. I've got a few compounds that I can mix up that'll keep people alert for a lot longer than normal. We go out into the woods, wait for them to attack, and we'll be awake enough to catch them by surprise. Who knows, we may even get lucky and find where they're coming from." He looked at the sergeant. "I know I treated a good amount of people who definitely can't fight, but you've got at least six or seven fighters who can still go, right?"

"Yes..." the sergeant said slowly. "Yes, I think that could work. How long will this compound of yours last?"

"It can safely keep people awake for no more than three days. After that, stuff gets nasty. We can keep it going longer if we spread the use out amongst the group and rotate the sentries."

"Wherever did you find such a thing?"

"We made it during the war for just such an occasion. So, what do you think, Captain?" Phelan asked, looking at Sabine.

"I think we can spare a small group for it," she said. "Who else is going with us?"

"Captain," Murphy began hesitantly. "Do ya think that that's goin' to be the best plan? Headin' out into the field yerself, I mean."

Her eyes glowed as she smiled dangerously. "Do you want to stop me, Murphy?"

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"This was such a brilliant plan," Sabine shouted over the wind at Phelan. "Let's go out into the wilderness in Malifaux, right around the start of winter, and see if we can just stumble over the enemy. Absolutely brilliant."

"I don't remember you arguing at the time," Phelan tossed back, bristling at the sarcasm. He tugged his hat down to protect his face from the rain. "Besides, it could be worse."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"You could be on fire," he replied with a grin. She stared at him for a moment then started laughing. The storm had hit them less than a day’s journey out from the town, and everyone’s nerves were up.

“How much further out do you think we should go?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I do know I don’t like our odds if we get attacked in all this rain, powder’s going to be awfully wet.”

“Hey everyone, found a cave!” one of the other members of the group called out, waving her arm to get everyone’s attention. The group, about a dozen of them, gathered together out of the rain as a few of them worked to make a fire.

Phelan pulled out a soulstone powered lantern and turned the light on, then looked around. He whistled in spite of himself. “This place is huge,” he muttered, a sense of unease in the back of his mind. He drew his rapier out of its sheath, and turned to warn Sabine, but the sight of her unlimbering her shotgun quieted him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one feeling paranoid.

He turned around and stumbled backwards with a strangled yell as his lantern illuminated the sight of a humanoid figure aiming a pistol. The group turned as one, and the pistol roared in the cave. The assassin twisted himself around, dodging past the bullet, and threw himself forward. His rapier stabbed for the pistol wielder’s shoulder, and missed. Phelan cursed, adjusting his footing as his opponent pulled out a curved blade from her waist.

In the rest of the cave, all hell broke loose. At least fifteen bandits were in the cave, all of them opening fire with pistols and rifles as the mercenaries and militia dove for what limited cover was available. Phelan pushed it out of his mind, thankful he and the girl were out of the way of the crossfire. He dropped the lantern to the floor, grabbing for a knife with his left hand as she charged him. Her eyes were wide and seemed almost black in the shadows of the cave. The odd things the mind notices, he mused to himself as his reflexes took over. Sparks flew from where the blades met, as the jagged edge of her knife scraped off his sword.

He patiently gave ground, circling back and away from the gunfight. The girl was strong and fast, but lacked imagination in her attacks, almost as if she was new to fighting with a blade. After a few passes, he stopped trying to block her attacks, simply dodging past and around them, looking for an opening to exploit. A heartbeat, two, and…there! Phelan ducked low under a wild swing, stabbing his rapier upwards into her shoulder. She screamed in pain, dropping the knife as she grabbed instinctively for the wound. His left hand struck out, slamming the pommel of his knife into her temple, and she twitched, falling to the ground unconscious.

Phelan pulled his sword out, and stared at the blade in astonishment. The metal was eroding away before his eyes, smoke coming off from where it had stabbed through the girl. “What the hell are you, girl?” he muttered. Abruptly, he noticed the lack of gunfire, and spun around to see his allies and friends slowly easing their way out of cover. He dropped his sword, and began pulling out herbs and bandages from his pack. Last thing he wanted right now was for his prisoner to die from blood loss.

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“Well,” Sabine said, gently kicking one of the corpses with her boot. “I guess that settles that. Looks like just ordinary human bandits.” The enemy had fought fiercely, but they hadn’t fought smart. It was a strange thing, considering the attacks a few days ago. “Everyone alright?”

A chorus of affirmatives answered her, and she frowned. Most of their attackers had fled further into the cave, and the soldier in her wanted to pursue them. Her blood was up, and she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her system. But something in her instincts was telling her to wait. There was something wrong here. Had the bandits come from further in the cave, or had they been here looking for shelter themselves? Were there any others? The questions nagged at her without answer.

She knelt down, examining the body. A young boy, not much older than late teenage years, wearing a simple outfit of leather and cloth, with the occasional piece of metal armor. His eyes were closed, and his expression seemed almost peaceful, if it wasn’t for the bullet wound through his forehead. Her frown deepened. She stood up and walked around the room, looking at the other corpses. There were both boys and girls; all dressed similarly, all of them young. “Anyone else find it strange that these are all kids?”

“I noticed that too,” the mercenary sergeant said. Stephen, that was his name. “It’s definitely strange. There’s something really bizarre going on here, ma’am. It beggars belief…but I think these kids are part of the group that attacked us.”

“Why?”

“Did you notice how quiet they were? If your doctor hadn’t seen that one about to shoot him, they would’ve ambushed us perfectly.” He shook his head. “Ma’am, I’ve been in the military most of my life. I’d be hard pressed to introduce you to even a handful of professional soldiers that quiet. But kids? Something ain’t right.”

“Amen to that, sergeant,” she murmured. “Check their ammunition and powder; see if it’ll work with ours. I’m going to check with Doc and see if he noticed anything else weird.”

She picked her way through the battlefield, coming to stand beside Phelan. He was leaned over one of the attackers, applying some sort of herb poultice to the girl’s bare shoulder. “Trying to save her life?” Sabine asked, confused.

“Of course,” the assassin replied, hands continuing their work slowly and carefully. She noticed he had pulled on a set of gloves that were covered in dark blood. “I figured you might want someone to interrogate. Besides, I don’t like killing women, even when they’re trying to kill me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sabine said with a slight smile. All the months they’d spent around each other and still she was learning more about him everyday. She’d had no idea about his distaste for killing the opposite sex. “Did you happen to notice anything weird when you were fighting her?”

He paused in his work and looked up, arching an eyebrow. “I was a little busy at the time fending her off, so no.”

She laughed. “I didn’t think so, but I figured I might as well ask. Sorry, dear.”

He returned to his task. “That’s alright, Sabine.” The warmth when he said her name was obvious and thrilling. “I think I’ve got the bleeding almost under control, once that’s done, she’ll be able to move. I assume you’re going to want to bring her back to the village?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “This whole situation is a little strange.” She noticed the remains of his rapier on the floor. “What the hell happened to your sword?”

“Hm? Oh, that. It appears that her blood doesn’t like metal. Which is why I’m wearing gloves, last thing I need is my prosthetic melted off my arm.”

“Her blood? And, more importantly, you think that might qualify as something ‘weird’?” she demanded.

“Sorry, but I’m kinda busy at the moment,” he said, his voice strained. He pulled the poultice back from the girl’s shoulder, and jumped in surprise. “Holy God in heaven,” he breathed. “That’s not possible…at least, it shouldn’t be possible.”

“What are you talking about?” Sabine leaned forward and gasped. The girl’s shoulder was smooth and unblemished excepting the dried blood around where the wound used to be. “Is she even human?”

“She certainly looks to be that way at first. Now…I’m not so sure. I do know this doesn’t match anything I’ve read about for creatures native to Malifaux, that I am sure about. I don’t know what she is, Sabine, but I’d recommend you have people checking those bodies again, and make sure they actually are dead.”

Day Eight.pdf