Flames licked the figure's clothes, and it fought to keep calm. Nothing good would come of running out into the open ... that's what they wanted.
Thankfully the darkness still cloaked every movement, though it knew dawn was fast approaching. The brigands were careless in lighting the bushes and trees on fire, what they burned either living or not .. all were fair game. It had to stop.
Nocking another arrow, the figure let it fly, striking down a brigand, his cry of suprise nothing but a gurgle in his throat. Move ... move ... another arrow flew, hitting its mark and another brigand fell dead. Moving a few feet between each attack left the brigands guessing, and their numbers dwindling.
"Enough of these games! Come out you bastard and fight out in the open!" The figure grinned behind it's mask. Not a fool, an arrow flew and struck the dirt by the brigand's foot. "Fine then. Have it your way!"
The group doubled their efforts to burn everything, plumes of smoke and flames lit up the sky and the surrounding area, since most of the flora was dry this time of the year. The figure had no choice to escape certain death, and leapt out into the road. Six heads turned towards it, swords drawn.
"You. Die. Now." The three words were short and to the point. The brigands laughed, advancing at a near run. The figure raised it's bow, and with speed and precision let loose arrow after arrow from the quiver at it's hip.
The force of the strikes sent the assailants reeling backwards, some even off their feet. Five lay dead on the dirt as the sixth, their leader, made it to the figure .. but not for long. The arrow which was in it's hand found it's way into the chest of the brigand, whose eyes widened a moment before he too collapsed on the ground.
Now was not the time to revel in victory though. Dawn cracked through the still burning trees, and it could hear the stirrings of the brigands as they awoke in their camp. But Fate has a way of turning tides in all things. The winds suddenly changed direction, the earth angry at the burns and injury it bore. Flames speed backwards along the road, licking and cracking wood and cloth, those within the camp fleeing or scurrying to find a way to put out the fire.
Turning on it's heel, the figure slowly walked along the dirt road once again, focusing on a new path ... the Forsaken Inn.
