Ashleen woke calmly, her eyes slowly flitting open as she sat, reclined slightly in the back of an old wooden cart. She had been resting against a large sack of flour. Not exactly the most comfortable of sleeping arrangements, but it was better than walking the final dozen or so miles to Hargeon. She could see the city now, just ahead. It would only take anothet 10, perhaps 15 minutes to arrive at the snail-like pace provided by the tired old pair of mules pulling the cart.
Ashleen had hitched a ride from an old farmer by the name of Wessel to get to Hargeon. The man seemed nice enough, but more than willing to sit in silence. He either didn't have much to say, or want much for saying anything. In fact, now that she thought about it, Ashleen couldn't remember if he had actually spoken at all when she requested a ride on his cart, or if he had simply grumbled approvingly.
While see was lost in thought, Ashleen failed to notice a small group of 4 thieves waiting on the sides of the road not too far ahead. Old Wessel didn't have very good eyesight, so by the time he noticed them, they were already stepping into the road, brandishing spears and crude swords. "Hold on right there, old man. You know the deal, right? Give us whatever cash you got, then you can move along your way. Nice and easy, now."
Wessel seemed to regard the thieves with a sense of jaded exasperation, as though he had been through this a million times. In reality, he had been running into this exact group of bandits on nearly every occasion that he traveled to Hargeon to sell his flour and herbs. He grunted defiantly, and the bandits laughed at his stubborn attitude. "C'mon, old timer. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Just fork over the dough."
By now, Ashleen had finished waking up, and let out a loud yawn while stretching her arms and legs. She rolled to one side, pushing herself off the floor of the cart and dusting herself off with her hands, before looking up to see the thieves and their weapons over the top of Wessel's head. She mused, now, that Wessel must have spoken to her after all, since she seemed to remember his name.
Ashleen hadn't heard much of the bandits words, but she knew well enough that their intentions were not good ones. She was confident enough in her ability to fight, but she was still a little tired, and didn't like the odds of 4 to 1. No matter how weak the 4 looked, their weapons were still undoubtedly dangerous for someone like her. She decided she'd try scaring them off, instead of taking them on.
With a nod, more to herself than anything else, Ashleen calmly stepped onto the front edge of the cart, then around Wessel, hopping to the ground and raising her hand in front of her, summoning a large, 2 meter tall key. It looked like one of those old fashioned brass keys with two large teeth and an ornate hoop at the other end. "Back off, guys! Wessel here is protected. You don't want to mess with a guild mage, do you?" She asked boldly, one hand still holding the large key while the other rested on her hip, a smile on her lips and a cheery air to her words and posture.
Of course she was bluffing. In reality, she had been traveling to Hargeon in search of entry into a guild, but she figured that the bandits wouldn't have the mind to check for a mark. And if they did, perhaps they would be fool enough to mistake the red tattoo on her face as some unknown guild's mark, which would only be more frightening to their ilk.
It didn't take long for her ploy to have a noticeable effect on the thieves, two of the men wielding swords turning to flee without another word between them. The two holding spears remained however, confident in the reach of their spears. "Guild mage? Nah, don't buy it. That's a nice trick, doll face, but I don't see no guild mark, I ain't ever seen you around here before, and most of all, there's no way in hell old Wessel was able to afford protection. So why don't you back off, little miss 'guild mage'?"
Ashleen's light hearted attitude didn't falter for a second as she approached the bandits, sighing quietly and generating a small, translucent blue key in the hand that had been resting on her hip, pushing the key quickly into her chest, right in the sternum. Her muscles seemed to tense and bulk up ever so slightly, but still noticeably, immediately after the key disappeared into her. She let go of the single larger key that she had used for intimidation and generated another, smaller key about a meter in length in her right hand.
Rather anticlimacticly, that was all it took to scare off the remaining bandits, and they immediately turned tail and fled into the woods, crying out after the others. With another sigh, and a shrug, Ashleen let her keys dissipate into the air, turning around and climbing back up onto the cart. "Alright, then, Wessel! Let's get to Hargeon!"
With an agreeable grunt, Wessel cracked the reins and the cart began to move again. After 20 minutes, the cart would arrive in Hargeon, with Ashleen sitting on the back. Her legs dangling off the back of the cart, kicking at the air as she lost herself in thought, a surprisingly somber expression betraying her true nature.
Ashleen had hitched a ride from an old farmer by the name of Wessel to get to Hargeon. The man seemed nice enough, but more than willing to sit in silence. He either didn't have much to say, or want much for saying anything. In fact, now that she thought about it, Ashleen couldn't remember if he had actually spoken at all when she requested a ride on his cart, or if he had simply grumbled approvingly.
While see was lost in thought, Ashleen failed to notice a small group of 4 thieves waiting on the sides of the road not too far ahead. Old Wessel didn't have very good eyesight, so by the time he noticed them, they were already stepping into the road, brandishing spears and crude swords. "Hold on right there, old man. You know the deal, right? Give us whatever cash you got, then you can move along your way. Nice and easy, now."
Wessel seemed to regard the thieves with a sense of jaded exasperation, as though he had been through this a million times. In reality, he had been running into this exact group of bandits on nearly every occasion that he traveled to Hargeon to sell his flour and herbs. He grunted defiantly, and the bandits laughed at his stubborn attitude. "C'mon, old timer. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Just fork over the dough."
By now, Ashleen had finished waking up, and let out a loud yawn while stretching her arms and legs. She rolled to one side, pushing herself off the floor of the cart and dusting herself off with her hands, before looking up to see the thieves and their weapons over the top of Wessel's head. She mused, now, that Wessel must have spoken to her after all, since she seemed to remember his name.
Ashleen hadn't heard much of the bandits words, but she knew well enough that their intentions were not good ones. She was confident enough in her ability to fight, but she was still a little tired, and didn't like the odds of 4 to 1. No matter how weak the 4 looked, their weapons were still undoubtedly dangerous for someone like her. She decided she'd try scaring them off, instead of taking them on.
With a nod, more to herself than anything else, Ashleen calmly stepped onto the front edge of the cart, then around Wessel, hopping to the ground and raising her hand in front of her, summoning a large, 2 meter tall key. It looked like one of those old fashioned brass keys with two large teeth and an ornate hoop at the other end. "Back off, guys! Wessel here is protected. You don't want to mess with a guild mage, do you?" She asked boldly, one hand still holding the large key while the other rested on her hip, a smile on her lips and a cheery air to her words and posture.
Of course she was bluffing. In reality, she had been traveling to Hargeon in search of entry into a guild, but she figured that the bandits wouldn't have the mind to check for a mark. And if they did, perhaps they would be fool enough to mistake the red tattoo on her face as some unknown guild's mark, which would only be more frightening to their ilk.
It didn't take long for her ploy to have a noticeable effect on the thieves, two of the men wielding swords turning to flee without another word between them. The two holding spears remained however, confident in the reach of their spears. "Guild mage? Nah, don't buy it. That's a nice trick, doll face, but I don't see no guild mark, I ain't ever seen you around here before, and most of all, there's no way in hell old Wessel was able to afford protection. So why don't you back off, little miss 'guild mage'?"
Ashleen's light hearted attitude didn't falter for a second as she approached the bandits, sighing quietly and generating a small, translucent blue key in the hand that had been resting on her hip, pushing the key quickly into her chest, right in the sternum. Her muscles seemed to tense and bulk up ever so slightly, but still noticeably, immediately after the key disappeared into her. She let go of the single larger key that she had used for intimidation and generated another, smaller key about a meter in length in her right hand.
Rather anticlimacticly, that was all it took to scare off the remaining bandits, and they immediately turned tail and fled into the woods, crying out after the others. With another sigh, and a shrug, Ashleen let her keys dissipate into the air, turning around and climbing back up onto the cart. "Alright, then, Wessel! Let's get to Hargeon!"
With an agreeable grunt, Wessel cracked the reins and the cart began to move again. After 20 minutes, the cart would arrive in Hargeon, with Ashleen sitting on the back. Her legs dangling off the back of the cart, kicking at the air as she lost herself in thought, a surprisingly somber expression betraying her true nature.