[Flashback]My camp![Rhuryc]

[Markus Andres]

Timestamp: 21st of spring 510. Markus had been hard at work for most of the evening. He was sweating from his brow hitting the flint against the metal, creating sparks on the dry leaves and twigs. Trying desperately to get a fire going before the dark clouds sprinkled him with water. Markus hit the rock against the metal rod and splinters sprayed the dry leaves. Creating a small fire. Markus was quick to blow some fresh air at the twigs. Letting the fire grow in size, then add some more dry leaves and twigs and soon he had a little camp fire. He then added larger branches and what not he had found lying in the forest. That fire ought to keep predators away from his shelter while he slept and provide him with warmth. He kept his eye on the fire for several chimes, not wanting to lose his only source of heat right away. When he was satisfied the fire wouldn't go out any time soon, he turned to his shelter. The shelter wasn't much more than a couple of large branches formed to create a triangle, with hardly enough space for half of Markus' large frame to lie under it, but it was only in case it began to rain and he needed somewhere to sit for the night, before he would start moving back towards Syliras and his chores. Inside the "tent" Markus had placed his borrowed composite shortbow and arrows. His borrowed heater shield was resting against the shelter and Markus had his bastard sword sheathed and strapped to his belt. It might be uncomfortable to sit with it, but he needed it in reach should someone or something invade his campsite. He found a tree to lean against and observe the little clearing he had found in the forest. It seemed that someone had once camped there before, for he had found some signs of a camp fire having been made where Markus had made his own fire. But he hadn't found any signs of poles being hammered into the ground, so he couldn't know if someone had camped there or if they had just built a fire to cook some food before moving on. Markus felt weird out in the wilderness. Being used to the small hallways and crowded places in Syliras. At times, with nothing but a few feet between him and the walls on every side. It was much better out there, in the wilderness. He thought he heard something. A twig snap. A rustle through the underbush. Markus was quick to remember that Syliras might be crowded, but it was also safe for people. The wilderness. Hardly safe for anyone. Markus stepped away from the tree and stood in front of the fire. Scouting the perimeter for any intruders.

[Rhuryc]

Where was that blasted campsite? He knew this would happen. Go too far and he would lose track of where he was! This always happened. With his morning venture deeper into the wood Rhuryc had the intention of gathering suitable firewood, enough so just to get through the day, but too many damn steps later he realized that the entire forest looked exactly the same. He wandered for bells. Two meals and several fits of rage later it was only a stroke of luck that brought him back. Smoke. That was smoke. In [b]his[/b[ campsite. What bastard of a man took another's campsite?! Sure, Rhuryc had been gone for the entire day, but there were signs! His fire pit was there. Wait, did that mean this fool was using his firepit?! Unthinkable. With a grumble the man discarded his arm-fulls of firewood, the click and clatter of dried logs rummaging at his feet with all of his significant fury. Gently, quietly, he out one hand on the sheath of his blade and the other on the hilt, the slow draw muting the scrape of brandished steel. He brought a shield down from his back made his way forward. This bastard would pay! Rhuryc was never good at stalking. As he approached the camp a loud "snap!" announce his presence, his clumsy, booted feet stepping on as much foliage as they could find. In the distance he could make out a solitary figure, a man silhouetted against a crackling flame. The fading light and encompassing shadows of the canopy made it difficult to discern finer details, there was no mistaking the outline of a human. A bandit? Pah! What else was there to find out here? The man appeared ready and alert. Rhuryc glanced aside at the far edges of the clearing, he ensured that the bastard was indeed alone before he continued. The heavy thunk of his boots accompanied his large, impossing form as he stepped out from the brush, the dancing light casting darkness about his face like a demon from the black. He did not appear as a gentle creature. He was large, thick, muscled. He wore an open leather coat and worn clothing beneath, accompanied by a well measured sword belt and the weapons at his side. Of all the random occurrences he was not a pleasant hostile to stumble into. His eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed as he came face to face with the thief! The sodding fool. Well, in all reality, the man had rights to the spot, but with Rhuryc's experience you could never be too careful in the wood. Last time he let his guard down someone shot him with a bleeding crossbow bolt. Not the grandest of occasions. "You're in my clearing." Rhuryc spoke, his baritone thick with irritation. He did not spend the entire day collecting wood just for this idiot to steal his fire! Petch!

[Markus Andres]

Markus spotted the man right away. Saw his figure in the light of the camp fire. He looked taller then Markus, of course, it could be hard to judge from that distance. But what he could see, was that he looked quite angry and quite armed. Shield and sword already drawn. Markus took a quick glance around the perimeter as he pulled out his blade, looking for any other moving shadows. Searching for someone who would flank Markus while he focused on the lone figure. It would be a sound tactic. Especially if they knew he was a squire and could defend himself. But he saw no moving figures. Only the wind moving the trees. Markus focused on the lone figure again. Markus quickly took several steps back and grabbed the edge of his shield and raised it up in his classical squire stance. Ready for a fight. "Back off!" Markus said angrily. Not wanting to let his hard work with making the shelter and fire get taken from him by a wandering bandit. "Find your own clearing, instead of stealing mine!" Markus wasn't afraid of combat. He had trained for something like this for over 5 years. He felt prepared. He also felt eager to test his skills with this bandit. Wondering just how quickly he could defeat an unskilled bandit.

[Rhuryc]

What an idiot! Why else would a clearing already be suited for a traveler. Steal? Talk about hypocritical. Rhuryc grumbled and advanced close enough to be dangerous, yet he kept his distance. He recognized that stance. The way his opponent held that blade was familiar, distinct, was he a Knight? No. Maybe. He did not look like a Knight, no armor, none of the usual pomp and circumstance. Maybe there was some air of authority, but not enough to stay his hand should the matter of combat arise. Damn him and his curiosity, it would be easier to just assail the man with his blade. "You're too jumpy to be a Knight." Rhuryc lowered his sword. "And too childish to be someone of import." He almost snickered. Instead, he held his ground and kept a close eye on this 'thief', waiting for him to make any sudden, foolish movements. In all sincerity he had no intention of killing the man or even fighting him, by Tyveth be damned if he was going to give up his campsite. "So I'll just assume you're light in the head. Why do you think that fire pit was here when you found this place? Now bugger off, I'm too hungry to argue." In such a way less agile minds found themselves combating one another. Any other occasion and he might have thought to offer a shared night, but thrice damn it, he was too annoyed to be civil.

[Markus Andres]

Markus was very annoyed by the arrogance of the intruder and especially by his rude comments. Markus felt his anger boil in him. Only the discipline beat into him by his master made Markus stand his ground and not charge into the idiot and slay him then and there. Markus began to laugh. Making the situation less tense to him and to diffuse some of the anger he felt boiling. Something his master had told him, laughing when someone insulted you, often made the insulter angry. "Listen, old man, why don't you just get lost before you hurt yourself." Markus said with a fire burning strongly in his eyes as he glared the thief into the eyes. His confidence in his abilities bolstering his defiance and arrogance as Markus walked forward. To get closer to the perimeter of his camp and defend it should the rude thief get any closer.

[Rhuryc]

Old? Maybe he really was an idiot. Rhuryc did not look old. Did he? No! Of course not. And this. Well, this kid, who was he to assume? Yeah, he had a sword, great, but did he know how to use it? He hardly looked like he'd every fought a man let alone kill one. Pah, this was no knight. Annoyed, irritated, and all together rage driven, Rhuryc took a threatening step forward, his blade raised in contest toward the fool of a man. Child. Whatever he was. "You have less than a chime to leave or I swear I'll sick this sword so far up your-" Snap. What was that? With a spin Rhuryc brought himself around to face the parameter. So, that little bastard had friends. From the brush he could make out one, two, three men at first. How had he not seem them coming in? From the looks of them they had only just arrived. None of them were hiding. Huh. And none of them shared the bandit's attire. Damn it. At least their intentions were clear. While he had been arguing with Markus the bastards took the opportunity to surround them. Had they followed him from deeper in the wood? Probably. Balls. Twice balls! The familiar sound of a bowstring struck him to action. The swift 'twang' was met by his shield raising to cover his torso. A dull, loud thud sent the arrow clattering away. He hated archers. With a few steps the man backed toward the fire and set his attention on as many of the new arrivals as he could. "Assuming these fellows aren't with you, I propose a truce."

[Markus Andres]

Markus didn't flinch when the man raised his blade. Just glared at his arrogant face. Seeing the rage in his eyes. It wouldn't be long before the old man decided to attack a squire of the Syliran Knights... Offense punishable with death on the spot. Of course, Markus had no desire to kill anyone. Markus was so focused on the man that he didn't hear the snap. Markus involuntarily took a step back when the man spun around. Thinking it was some sort of a signal, Markus raised his shield to cover his torso from any projectiles. The next thing surprised Markus. The arrow hadn't been aimed at him. The man had been the target. This alone made Markus trust the man wasn't trying to fool him. Markus heard the sound of the arrow striking something harder than flesh. Markus sighed with relief, knowing that his new 'ally' hadn't been struck. Markus didn't bother checking his back, figuring the man would have noticed them. He did send a glance to the sides, looking for more dark shadows moving. That was when his instincts kicked in and Markus raised his shield. Feeling the impact from the arrow. Watching the tip of the arrow poking through the top of his shield only a couple of inches from the leather that covered his torso. "Petching archers." Markus muttered under his breath, feeling anger chasing away any fear he might have felt. "Follow me, and take the one on the left." Markus ordered the non-knight as he stepped forward. Preparing to charge the enemy lines. They couldn't just stand around and wait for their archers to notch another arrow. "Go!" Markus suddenly sped forward. Charging directly at the line of bandits. When he was only a few steps away from the closest of the bandits, Markus ducked down, below the wild swing aimed at his head. Using his shield as a ram, he continued to run directly into the bandit. At impact, the bandit lost all air in his lungs. When the bandit stumbled backwards, he would take a a single step, before Markus' bastard sword would have pierced his left thigh. Cutting the powerful muscle apart. - The bandit collapsed on the ground screaming. Markus jumped to the side and looked for another enemy, looking for what the Man was doing. Whether he was helping or if he had just run off like a coward.

[Rhuryc]

Ugh. Orders. Rhuryc resisted the urge to step up behind the Squire and beat him in the back of his head. Instead, he fell in line with the man. That was strange. He raised his shield and practically locked it with the Syliran trained warrior, a style and ability that of which he shared. There was an instinctual connection in that form. As Markus advanced so did Rhuryc. Boots clattered against the broken flora of the forest floor with the brush snapping beneath. Crash! Steel clashed against steel in an eruption of violence. The man took leave of his companion for only a moment as he turned in contest, shield sent about to deflect the incoming blow of a murderous blade. Deflected, Rhuryc stepped in and swiped his won sword about, the bastard edge slicing through leather and flesh and spilling red in a puddle of death. One down. Rhuryc spun. He stepped back and turned so that Markus remained on his flank, his only exposed position that of the shield at his front. Tactics. Another twang. He grunted and hoisted himself down, shield moving too late as an arrow plummeted into his shoulder. Petch! Rhuryc grunted and ignored the pain. Instead he turned and advanced, adrenaline searing through his veins in an effort to spur him forward. Thump. His heart beat in his ears. Like a drum it pounded against his mind. Forward. He had to go forward. Rhuryc felt his body shift. Breaking from his defense with Markus he tore away and advanced, shield raising - despite the burning in his arm - and body lowering as he came across another assailant. The resulting clash sent the bandit whirling. Rhuryc shoved the man up and over his shoulder and down his back, casting him from his path and advancing farther still. The bowmen saw him coming. In a desperate effort to save himself the archer dropped his weapon and brandished a short hafted spear. Mistake. Rhuryc threw himself forward. He parried the incoming assault with his blade, steel edge swiping across the wooden construct and ripping the grip to pieces. He followed with a swift kick to the man's midsection and brought his sword arm around to finish. Blood splattered against his tunic.

[Markus Andres]

Markus saw the wake of death and destruction his new ally left. He was amazed that he had killed two people with such ease. With no quarter or mercy. Markus looked around for anymore enemies. Scouting into the dark forest. Satisfied he saw nothing. Markus let a small smirk cross his lips as he once again assumed leadership. "Well done. Keep an eye out for any friends of theirs." Markus said with a voice with considerable more respect than earlier. Markus said as he unstrapped his shield and dropped it to the ground. Only flinching slightly at the developing pain in his shoulder. Turned to the man he had defeated himself. Still alive and kicking. Kicking metaphorically, at least. Markus stepped closer and put the blade to his throat and felt how the anger in him flared. Begging him to steal this mans worthless life. Markus let his blade linger by his throat as he looked at his clothes. Looking for bulges, that might conceal a weapon. Markus saw the sheath to a dagger by his side and cut it loose and kicked the man to the side, away from the sheathed dagger. When done looking him over, Markus learned down and grabbed the man by his collar and grunted as he lifted the man to his feet and slammed him against the nearest tree he could find. The man howled in pain. Markus felt disgusted that he liked that sound. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but it concerned his safety. "Are there any more!" Markus said with a fierce voice. Demanding an answer. When the man didn't offer Markus a response, the pommel of his blade struck the injured thigh and the man screamed out in pain. "ANSWER ME!" He growled. Every steel corded muscle in his body expanding to make Markus look much larger and more intimidating. Markus fingers cutting off the air supply to the poor bandit when he once again refused to spill the beans. "LAST TIME! ARE THERE ANY MORE?!?" Markus' blade was stuck into the ground and his fingers dug into the wounded thigh. Making the pain increase by a tenfold. The man's scream was blocked by Markus' hand. A couple seconds later Markus let the man go and he fell to the ground. 'We... We were ... the only ones...' "Do you have a camp?" Markus' voice was still very fierce. 'Half a.. bells walk in tha.. that direction.' The man pointed in a direction while gasping heavily for air. Markus smiled and kicked the man over. Considering his next course of action. He really hated bandits. Especially bandits who dared attack him. It was his pride at work here. Plus, Markus felt pain pulsating from his left side. Where the arrow from the shield had penetrated his borrowed leather armor when Markus had rammed the guy. - Not the cleverest of moves. "How many at the camp?" 'fo... four guys. I thi.. think.' The response came after a couple of seconds. "If you're lying..." Markus said threateningly to the bandit. "Old man?" Markus said looking around for his ally, before leaning down and picking up the dagger he had taken from the injured man. Markus took a deep breath and the pain in his shoulder started bothering him now that the adrenalin was leaving his body. "What do you say we find this camp, and destroy it?" Markus wasn't sure why he trusted this guy. It had only been a chime or two earlier, that the two had been about to tear each other throats out because of a clearing. But he did trust him. At least enough that he wouldn't stab Markus in the face.

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc grunted. That arrow stung. His body whipped around nevertheless and he covered the ground to the remaining bandit left in his wake. The man was fumbling. A shield found his face. Spinning, the wounded combatant fell back down, his hands coming up protect his face from the pain. Ugh. In his nonchalant fashion Rhuryc brought his blade down and slammed the edge into the exposed chest. A cry of fear drifted into the evening air. When he removed the sword he wiped the dull sides over the bandit's attire, cleaning the weapon before he sheathed it and moved to rejoin his new 'friend'. The man said something, spoke to him, but the arrow embedded into his shoulder did little for his attention span. HIs arm hung limp. He could move it, a little, but each twist brought a twinge of pang so great it served to disable him. Blast it. With his adrenaline leaving his body it was a only a matter of time before he succumbe to the wound. A harsh snap announced his presence. Rhuryc cast aside the broken shaft of the arrow and stepped up beside Markus, his narrow gaze casting from the squire to the bandit. Did he intend to let the man live then? Not the greatest idea, but then again, he was a prisoner. Or something along those lines. Whatever, it was no business of his, and the pain was enough to dull his senses to a point in which he did not care. He was, on the other hand, getting tired of his apparent title. "Stop calling me that." He rumbled, resisting the urge to punch the younger man. Rhuryc did not look old. At least he did not believe he looked old. In any case, it was bothersome, and he would rather not deal with it. "We'll need to move quickly if you intend on keeping this one alive. I'd rather not have to deal with his friends getting an early warning. And I'm no shape for an ambush." A quick survey of his kills was all he needed to understand the proficiency of their marks, incompetent for the most part, but blades could still killed no matter how impractical the hand that wielded them. Turning, Rhuryc started off in the direct Markus motioned. He would have to deal with the wound later. For now, they had a problem to deal with.