The Inn was burning.
Ravynne twirled aside as a blade thrust clumsily towards where she had stood, her third dagger deftly thrown from her hand to strike deep into the man's heart. As if in a dance of death, each step was accompanied with a parry, a strike, a thrust.
She could barely see through the thick smoke that billowed from the nearby tables in the burning Inn, and although she was confident the men before her suffered the same predicament, they seemed to have no urge to cease fighting and move away. And each of them blocked her only means of escape, and survival.
Another man spotted her shape and lurched towards her, bellowing something as he arced a huge battleaxe towards her midsection. She was forced to backstep, towards the fire, before throwing herself at him with her sword to skewer him. He fell back, slowly, her sword embedded deep into his ribcage.
Ravynne placed one heeled boot onto his torso and yanked with both hands in an attempt to remove her sword, but it was stuck fast. She noticed a faint movement in the corner of her eye and threw herself to her right, barely avoiding a sweep of a spear, or halberd, she knew not which. Coming to a half crumpled, half rolled stop against the Inn wall she threw a glance up and noticed a window, not a dozen paces before her- though it meant having to sacrifice her sword.
Glancing around for a few moments more and Ravynne noticed the lithe form of Lorrina, her Handmaiden, performing her own fateful dance- her twin blades singing out to sever flesh and spill blood. Though she was agile, and deadly, the multiple shadows in the smoke that moved around her proved clear she was outnumbered.
Rav drew her last dagger, and forced herself to her feet, her lungs burning from the thick smoke that poured forth. She made her way as quickly as she could to the window, pausing only for a moment before forcing it open, the light from the nearby lamps obscured by the departing smoke. She looked back for a moment, and leaped out of the window gracefully, settling into a crouch the other side. A brief moment later and Lorrina followed suit, though her exit was far less graceful.
Two brutish men immediately followed, spluttering as they gasped for breath. Ravynne took the chance to lean up and flash silver across the legs of one, dropping him with relative ease. The other man by then had staggered away, and she let him go, sheathing both blades and making her own way clear of the smoke and fire.
Spotting Lorrina doubled over as she too grasped for air, Ravynne allowed herself the brief moment of luxury to look around. The air was still thick with smoke that poured forth from the Inn, which but an hour ago had been the mercenaries main building. What had occurred in this few minutes that preceded the fire was still confusing, and she tried to remember.
“So to keep the town safe, as promised, the fee is fifteen gold coin. I don't think thats an unreasonable sum, considering..” Lorrina watched the old man wince. That amount of gold was significant, especially for this small town, but their lives had been saved from the Orcs that had been pouring forth from the mountains.
“I don't recall agreeing to such a sum. We had agreed on five, no more”. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, as if standing on a pile of hot coal. Outside, Ravynne's more personal bodyguard stood watch, and her band of mercenaries, scum and sellswords alike, sat in tents and under whatever cover they could find from the constant rain.
The town was barely capable of keeping the townsfolk themselves, being just an inn, a shop, two streets of houses and a few barns. All of this was surrounded by wooden walls and pallisades, though this had proven invaluable in defence. Though a few of the folk had arms, barely a handful of them carried any form of armour, and the town simply had no way of defending itself from Orcs or a concentrated assault from bandits. Ironically, many of Ravynne's small army were often called the very same.
“The amount is fifteen gold, man. That includes keeping this town safe, payment for patrols, plus you have need of swords and armour- when we depart, your going to need every sword you can” Ravynne's reply was short and cold, unusual for her business deals.
The man looked her over, taking particular note of her garments but more closely inspecting the belts of daggers and blades that covered her chest and hips. Two longer daggers, short swords to most eyes, were clasped against her hips, whilst the rest were simply an array of throwing knives and daggers that had seen enough bloodshed already.
“We..We don't have that sort of gold. You can't just...raise the fee like this! This is piracy!” He exclaimed. Lorrina quietly stepped herself in front of Ravynne, instinctively, as his voice grew in pitch and sound.
“This, Sir, is negotiations. You should have decided a fee -before- we took the contract.” Lorrina replied calmly. Her hands rested upon her own two blades, less ornate then Ravynnes but as sharp as any.
The man snorted in retort, and slumped into his chair. Though he was an old sellsword himself, Ravynne figured he was one of the older groups, those who wasted time protecting for free, or asking for few coin in return. What use was being a Mercenary that could not pay their own way? Or enjoy the luxuries that such a risky career brought with it, she mused.
“I can offer you seven gold. No more”
“Twelve. We will honour that you have little to spare, so we will use the Inn as our headquarters for two weeks...to continue patrolling. Once we are sure there are no more attacks, we will move on”.
The man groaned inwardly, and nodded in acceptance, or perhaps resignation, Ravynne did not know which, and she did not care. This town needed her aid, and she had no need to be here. Not when their were others baying for her blood, hers and her rabble of thieves, murderers and bandits.
Ravynne and Lorrina made their leave from the old man's home, wandering back towards the Inn. Her bodyguard moved silently behind her, but with a single gesture they were relieved, swiftly moving under cover themselves. As they approached the Inn itself, Lorrina spoke.
“This town cannot afford to give us that much, Lady Ravynne. They will be broken.”
Ravynne cast a feined glare in Lorrina's direction. Knowing that no-one else could hear them, she spoke to her in her true way, void of status or respect.
“And what of us, Lorrinali? Are we to starve then? We're being hunted...and we need to keep moving. This will keep us going for some time to come” Ravynne used her full name, rarely, to emphasize her point. Though one was a Maid, and the other a Lady, their friendship extended far beyond such. It was simply a matter of fate that one had become much higher in status then the other, and though in name and title Ravynne was better off, here, with the Bandits and the battles, it was of no relevence.
“We could have survived on three, perhaps five gold if you wished.” Lorrina ignored the glare, seeing through the ruse. Ravynne sighed and shrugged in defiance “The town won't last a month longer..it will burn. And the gold will be wasted. Better in our hands then buried under ashes”
As they approached the Inn, the sounds of drunken antics grew louder. The building had seen far better days, and had clearly suffered in recent years, with the ever-increasing banditry and orc skirmishes in this part. Lorrina sighed and muttered something to herself as the bawling laughter of the Dunland group filtered out into the street, and with a quick glance at Ravynne, they both stepped up and threw the double doors open, heading into the warm and dry.
“Lady Ravynne! And Miss Lorrina!” Came a raucious, drunken shout from one of the largest Dunlend soldier, as he stood up and immediately collapsed amidst a chorus of laughter and cheers.
Ravynne made no reply and Lorrina grimaced, shepharding herself and her charge towards the back of the Inn. The insides of the Inn was twice as bad as the outside, the tables bare wood and oil lamps placed on each one, giving off an odd glow as they burned. Apart from a few sergeants, only the Dunlends were making the Inn welcome- the others hoarded their pay for more pleasant towns, where they could buy better fineries.
They sat themselves by the stairs that led up to their chambers, having paid hansomely for the only free rooms in the town. Ravynne was certain that as always, rooms would suddenly become available whilst they stayed here, especially if poor folk were requested enough, but she had no interest in stopping it. Her only concern now was plotting their next venture, and Lorrina had already began preparing a map on the table before them, pinning it down with several mugs.
“The closest towns now are West, towards Bree-lands. I'm not sure if we are wanted there, either. We should send scouts out to check” She planted a small coin upon the circled town of Bree itself, and looked up. “Im not sure where else we can go.”
“Lorrina! Be of some use, and fetch us some more ale!” Came a gruff demand from the largest dunlend, followed by further cheering. Lorrina glanced up for a brief moment and then back to the map, ignorant of the demands. They continued to deliberate until a shadow loomed over the table.
“I said, Get your pretty little self up out of that chair, and go fetch us some ale.” The soldier, known to most as Ox, demanded. His lips curled into a sneer and he tossed a mug onto the table. Lorrina recoiled in disgust as the remnants of stale ale splashed over her, the fine cloth that covered her armour soaked. She stood up, picking up the mug, and without a word she rammed the heel it into the mans face, followed by a curse in Gondorian.
The Dunlend roared in pain and anger, lashing out at the table. Using sheer strength he heaved the table up and over the two women, who scrambled aside as it was hurled towards the wall. The oil lamp that bathed the table and map with light smashed and burned, taking the map with it. Within a heartbeat the wall and table had started to smoke as they too caught the flames.
“Dare you attack the Lady!” Lorrina's anger was slow to grow, but impossible to stop once she had been goaded. She unsheathed her swords and threw herself at the man, cutting deep into his sides with both blades. His comrades, uneasy allies in the group, immediately set about grabbing blades and shields, by which time Ravynne had joined her handmaiden.
Ravynne sat against a treetrunk, gathering her breath and calming herself. The inn burned brightly in the night sky, flames roaring and spreading from building to building. Though a few of her mercenaries attempted to douse the fires, the rest had scattered into the darkness, taking with them anything to hand. The townfolk milled around in panic, many trying to do what they can to protect their town.
“Lady Ravynne! We need to leave. Now!” Lorrina's demands were forceful but lined with concern. It took Ravynne only a brief moment to realise what would happen- yet another reason for her head to be severed from her shoulders- and she got to her feet, hastily making herself a part of the shadows in the night.
