The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

Illyana and her squad were making a return trip forward Sentinel when the sounds of violence hit their ears. Clashing steel, shouts of violence, and the sound of bowstrings.

That had been enough to rouse the group from their stupor, and they came rushing up the road, following those sounds of violence. Illyana had drawn her claymore by the time they reached the crest of the hill, providing a solid vantage point.

"Damnation," she huffed.

A tree had been felled and pushed into the road, acting as a barricade, blocking a wagon that had just come up from the other hill. The mushien pulling the wagon was hissing and twitching, trapped in place, while a small group of guards put up a solid defence of the wagon, their shields feathered with arrows.

Grant, one of her cohorts, unslung his crossbow and took aim at the figures attacking from the roadside. Humans and gnomes adorned in coloured attire, designed to camouflage them against the greenery. "Damnation. Must be over a dozen down there?"

"Brotherhood?" Illyana asked, scanning the scenery below.

He grunted and shrugged. "Dunno. Not dressed like the ones we've seen. No goblins in the group, either." That had been a growing thing over the past few weeks. Humans and goblins, fighting side by side in their raids of caravans and villages.

Another worrying aspect of this situation.

It didn't matter, she reasoned, raising her claymore. Whoever they were, they were attacking innocents in her presence. And she couldn't abide that. "Grant, you and the other marksmen keep a vantage point and rain hell on them. Crossbows only, we don't have enough powder to waste if they don't have hand cannons of their own."

She took off in a sprint before Grant could reply or object, followed by two pikemen. Even without tapping her magic, Illyana kept a comfortable lead on them. By the time the brigands noticed their approach, it was already too late.

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One of them gave a startled cry as she vaulted the fallen tree, and had just start to aim his spear her way before she surged forth and cleaved him from shoulder to groin in a single stroke. Her blade whirled in an arc, striking a pair of bolts from the air before they could strike her.

"Aid," one of the struggling guards gasped. "Goddess be praised."

The Manticore marksmen rained suppressing fire in a series of controlled volleys, mindful of their own aim. The thudding of steel tips against tree trunks echoed through the area, and the brigands found themselves forced into cover against the advancing counter attack.

As Illyana batted an incoming axe away, she knew at once that these were just opportunistic criminals. Their movements were sluggish compared to the refined techniques employed by the Brotherhood. And, already, the counterattack had them set to break and run in fear.

She took a breath, power surging in her muscles. She cleaved one man in half at the waist, his guttural scream still sounding as she surged at another brigand, breaking his neck in a single furious punch.

"Damned bastards," she growled under her breath. As if things weren't bad enough without people like this causing trouble for people. She may have been roped into this business partially against her will, but overtime she had grown to like the chances it gave for her to help people. But there always seemed to be more bastards to kill, more crooks to halt.

It never ended, really.

A bolt grazed her pauldron, scraping the steel and kicking up a flash of sparks. Illyana only barely noticed it. She pressed forward, making a beeline for two more of the robbers. A smooth stroke cleaved an incoming spear in twain, leaving its wielder defenceless as Illyana's ally ran him through with a well aimed blow to the chest. Illyana took out the second one, his neck erupting in a spray of crimson as she sliced a swathe straight from his throat.

Once the last of the men had fallen, an uneasy calm fell over the area. Illyana flicked the blood from her blade and looked to the wagon driver, now peeking nervously at her from the top of his shield. "You're... from Sentinel, right?"

"I am. Good thing we were using the same road as you," she said. And a damn good thing they hadn't arrived a few minutes later, for that matter, she thought.

"Aye, damn good luck." He huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Damn bastards dropped the tree as we got close. Poor young Racko was dead before we even knew what was happening." He motioned to a corpse beside the wagon, slain by two bolts to the chest.

"Sorry to hear that." She sheathed her blade, shaking her head. Seemed this was just a random robbery, opportunists seeking to prey upon whoever came their way. The roads really were getting worse and worse. "We have a healer with us, he can tend to your wounded." But, from the look of things, they wouldn't need anything more intense than some disinfectant and stitches.

"Aye, thanks. Think the rest of us got off light, but a check couldn't hurt. Soon as my hear stops hammering, at least." He huffed, leaning against the wood of the wagon. The mushien pulling it had started to calm down, but his mandibles were still frothing. "First delivery for Coin's Commerce, and it goes downhill like this."

Illyana froze where she stood. She turned to face the man, raising one eyebrow high. "Did you say... Coin?"