Lotherwen had already finished the day, she thought. Getting comfortable in the prancing pony after another day of work with her acquaintance Ronalda and a stranger she had not met before, Gungur, a dwarf from the Lonely Mountain. It was an evening like many before it, until a fellow with plants all over his clothes appeared. Singing and humming he introduced himself and his intention: to travel to Hengstacer Farm, post-haste!
Saying the man was strange was an understatement. But Lotherwen needs coin and as an able mercenary promptly offered to escort the man, who joyously agreed. A rich reward was promised to her, and both the dwarf and the noblewoman agreed to join. Lotherwen expected merely a calm walk through the night in exchange for a little coin, but she'd be neither alive nor renowned for her work if she weren't such a cautious woman. Hence, the departure had to be delayed so she could fetch her armor and trusty spear. You never know.
As expected, the journey to Hengstacer Farm was a walk in the park. Once there, they offered to stand guard and wait for the horse-healer to do his business. The noblewoman, proficient in alchemy herself, offered to aid him so Gungur and Lotherwen stood guard by themselves, until Gungur had to find a bush to relieve himself. Not that they expected any trouble. Neither did the trouble expect them: Three brigands approached, visibly confused by the presence of what seemed to be a woman guard. Nevertheless, they made their intentions clear: To steal the horses and raze the farm, and to slaughter anyone in their path. They had hoped Lotherwen would back down. She in turn hoped they would, trying to convince them to just leave. But the brigands promised the surety of death for everyone, convinced of their strength and mentioning reinforcements on the way. Ronalda overheard the tense discussion and joined Lotherwen, using her crossbow as convincing argument in the discussion. The promised reinforcements, two more bandits, arrived just after Ronalda, increasing the brigands' confidence.
All the words of peace were for naught as the brigands drew their swords. Bolts and steel rushed through the air, blows were exchanged, parried or dealt and the first of the brigands fell. Their leader had a bolt stuck in his neck, gargling and coughing, trying to gasp some air without his own blood filling his lungs. Numbers two, three and four fell shortly thereafter, with broken knees or dwarven axes in their torso. The fifth and last to stand was a woman herself. Now, Lotherwen is tall and muscular, but that brigand was a hulk. She sported a warhammer, twice the size of Lotherwen's head.
The two had fought with their large weapons for a bit with neither gaining an advantage over the other, until the brigand swung her hammer diagonally from above with great force. Lotherwen saw her charge, but it was too late to evade. With all her strength she used her spear to deflect or try and block the incoming attack. She felt the sheer force pressing on her, as if she was driven into the ground. Then a cracking sound. The force was suddenly relieved, but only for a moment, before it hit her on the upper chest. Like a bull ran over her, she was thrown to the ground, briefly losing her sight. Opening her eyes, she saw she held two parts of her spear in her hands. It had broken under the might of the brute, who now stood above her and lifting the hammer above her head. Ready to deal the final blow.
Lotherwen feared the worst, but her comrades stood not idly by. The noblewoman-alchemist shattered a flask over the brute's back, causing her to flinch in pain and scream, dropping her hammer behind herself. That was the opportunity for Lotherwen to jump up, to turn the tables. And so she did, stabbing the brute's kidneys with the broken head of her spear. It may not have killed her, and Lotherwen had no more weapon. Unable to pull the head from the woman, she instead used her gloved fists to finish what was started. Together they fell to the ground, Lotherwen atop. The brute struggled still, trying to reach for Lotherwen and presumably her throat. But Lotherwen was determined to win, beating her over and over until the brigand was barely conscious. Lotherwen didn't think about what to do next. She knew she had to bring it to an end. And so she did. She grabbed the bandit's head with both her hands, and an audible crack indicated the end of the fight.
Lotherwen sank onto the lifeless body beneath her. The fight was over, but it took a toll. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, she caught her breath. Worried for his companion, Gungur asked the mercenary whether she requires aid in getting up. She denied, asking him to let her enjoy the moment. The moment of victory. The thought of having protected the farm and its people.. and herself.
Once she raised her head again, she saw Ronalda looking at her. No, staring at her. In distress. In fear. In terror. "You.." She begun. Lotherwen stood up, wanting to say something but being interrupted by Ronalda: "Stay away from me! You.. monster!"
Lotherwen was speechless. What had she done that would warrant such judgement? Before she could ask, Ronalda turned to leave. To run away, rather. This prompted worry, the brigands had mentioned their nearby camp after all. So Lotherwen chased after her, without success. She stood there in the night, covered in her opponent's blood, still confused about why Ronalda ran from her.
She had forgotten that not everyone in her company tonight was used to gruesome fights with deadly outcomes. It even took a toll on her, what must it have done to the poor woman who never had such fight before?
