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Ch.11

Mages were often in high demand among adventurers, one because they were for the most part wealthy snobs who only accepted the best offers in exchange for their powerful abilities, two because the one's that didn't extort you for everything you had were barely able to rub two sticks together and cast a decent fire bolt or earth wall. Still you could take what you could get, even if only to fill bodies for the rosters, even if it was a barely waist high brat who probably had never gone to the academy. Francis sighed, he knew they didn't have much of a reputation, being bronze plates, but he hadn't expected the Mage's Guild to send a them a literal child.

Sucking up his disappointment he offered a hand out towards the child size figure dressed in a heavy blue robe, the cheap kind given to apprentices of the guild. “Francis Alcott, team leader and vanguard of the Salamanders” he said putting on his best smile only to be left there looking like an idiot by the young mage causing him to grit his teeth.

The young mage quickly took stock of the members of the Salamanders, aside from Francis the showy blonde haired self important young man there were three other members who were all roughly in their late teens along with their leader. There was a slightly rotund lad with a mace and round shield wearing a thick gambeson, a tall youth with a more scholarly appearance with a number of satchels about his waist, the last was a beady eyed looking teen idly cleaning his fingers with a dagger. They seemed to be as impressed with the mage as the mage was with them, which was to say, not very.

“What's the job” the mage inquired revealing the voice of a young girl, causing a few of the members to shift uncomfortably. No one was happy to drag a little girl into a potentially deadly situation, even if she was a mage.

“Some traders were attacked near Chey, we're supposed to investigate the area where the attack happened, they are worried it might have been goblins” Francis explained trying to ignore the impertinent girl.

After leaving Hjarlsburg by way of a local farmer they paid a couple of copper coins to for a ride in his hay cart. They arrived near where the road split, with one road leading to Chey and the other to River's bend. “We'll be getting off here” Francis thanked the farmer. “Alright lets make our way down, keep your eyes open for any signs of any cart wreckage” he barked quick and sharp as he lead the way sword in one hand and shield in the other.

She couldn't help but notice the disparate difference between the driven attitude of the groups leader and the rest of the team's lackadaisical attitude, the scholarly looking lad was even reading through a small booklet that she assumed contained his research notes. Judging from the heavy scent of herbs and the stains on his tan robes he was a novice alchemist who was paying for his studies by adventuring. The beady eyed kid was probably at street rat, as for fatty she had to wonder if he was a gentle or not so gentle giant. The leader got on her nerves with his constant attempts to whip up a spirit of nonexistent camaraderie, he reminded her of a lot of country boys who grew up dreaming to be a hero. If she had to bet, he'd probably wind up getting them all killed while foolishly rushing into a battle they could never hope to win.

It wasn't long before they approached a pile of recently burned wood that used to be a wagon judging from the hunks of metal that used to be part of an axle and wheel reinforcements. Before every one began stomping about she took the lead and began to observe the prints preserved by recently dried mud. It was a hectic mishmash of prints indicating that there was certainly a struggle that occurred, it was curious however that she didn't see any prints that could be attributed to goblins. Still she kept her mouth shut, no use arguing that the traders were probably hit by bandits, unless goblins started riding horses and wearing boots. She wouldn't put it past the clever little green bastards, but it just didn't fit.

“Hey boss, I got some kind of prints headed towards the forest over” the beady eyed boy called out from where he was currently squatting.

“Let's go check it out, we get a bonus if we hunt down what ever attacked the traders” Francis called out as he began trekking off road into the waist high grass that ran up against a densely wooded area.

She quietly fell towards the back of the group before slipping even further back, roughly staying at least fifteen paces behind the Salamanders as they entered the woods. Her eyes darting this way and that as she carefully listened to every sound. There was no way she was going to be caught unaware like that fool Francis, be the attacker man or beast. Fortunately the trail they were following was easily traversed, it was an abandoned logging path judging from the young trees that lined the sides of the trail, her hand idly traveled towards item belted beneath the easily discarded robe.

Just as predicted they were the first to be found, thanks to the stomping heavy feet of Francis, or they would have been if a certain mage hadn't slipped into the undergrowth. With a situation she had been in one to many times for comfort she crept up behind a sentry who was observing the Salamanders. Taking a deep breath she pulled Aether from her core into a powerful construct of frost and slammed the spell into the Bandit's back, the man's body instantly seized in paralysis. With out even a muffled scream she drove her sword through the back of the man's chest, blood pouring from the gaping hole left in his chest painting the forest floor crimson.

“Stand and deliver ya bastards” a man barked stepping out of the bushes along with another half dozen or so men, each poorly dressed baring swords which had seen better days. “We aint got nothing against you brats, just dump yer gear and go running back to mommy” another man barked threateningly causing the other men to chuckle menacingly.

The Salamanders bunched up back to back to easily defend one another as they carefully eyed the men around them, the beady eyed lad was no stranger to killing if need be, but Francis was a little too wet around the ears for his taste. “We can work something out right, we'll just head on back and pretend we've never saw you” Francis replied nervously.

“It don't work that way sweet cheeks, see, ya do as we say and maybe we don't kill ya and loot your corpses” the man spat distastefully. “Cant have ya go running for the city and coming back with the guards” the other man teased menacingly.

Keeping herself low the mage slipped around to the edge of the group of men as they argued with the Salamanders, taking a few breaths to calm down, she knew that they had stepped into a real shit pile. Reaching back into her core the girl drew on more Aether, with a small portion she clad her blade with a wind construct, and poured an amount into her open hand that almost left her feeling faint.

The Salamanders whispered to one another preparing to drop their weapons, when a roaring blast of frost took the bandits unaware with the scream “hoarfrost” followed by the stomach churning scene of a young girl cleaving through half a dozen men barely able to react like a hot knife through butter. They stood stock still unable to interpret the mass of ice and fury as she severed limbs and hacked through torsos with all of the nonchalance of a farmer reaping wheat. Sprays of blood and entrails painting the world with splashes of crimson, their stomachs churning with nausea.

“Who in Justinious' puckered tight anus are you” Francis exclaimed at the girl who calmly went around severing the heads off of the freshly killed bandits with out a care in the world.

With a look of disdain the girl replied “Lily Frost-Claw, bronze plate adventurer and magician of the Mage's Guild, better toughen up and pull your head of the hay, farm boy, with out me you'd be dead as a door nail” she spat before retrieving her mages robe. “Now help me strip any gear that can be sold or salvaged, their camp should also be up ahead” she barked and the stunned young men blinked stupidly before hopping to.

Aside from some rusty swords, and a few cudgels they were able to recover a couple of small shipping containers that hadn't been smashed open along with a few small casks labeled as brandy. The most valuable of the salvage were four cart horses that the bandits had been using for their robberies, with a little ingenuity and some rope they were able to tie the bulk of the recovered good onto the horses.

The guard looked quizzically at the group of five youngins who had left only a few hours prior with confusion as they now had four horses laden with miscellaneous goods strapped to them. “I'm going to need to see some identification, and some way to verify that those goods aren't stolen” the guard said pulling them aside from the line for a moment.

“The goods are stolen, and these fine gentleman are the thieves, we are on a request from the Merchant's guild of Hjarlsburg” Lily explained flipping up the cover of a saddle bag filled with severed heads causing the man to go wide eyed with shock.

“Alright, you can turn in those heads at the Magistrate's office to see if there are any outstanding bounties on the bandits, you never know sometimes you get lucky” the man mumbled before waiving them through the gate. His mind still reeling from the seemingly innocent looking sandy haired young mage, who was probably the most dangerous member of the group. He'd need a long night at the tavern to forget this little adorable terror.

After turning in the heads, and getting paid for the job with a fat bonus on top for recovering some of the stolen goods, and selling the weapons and gear to the local junk traders Lily split ways with the Salamanders with a hefty sack of silver. Upon returning to the Mage's guild she found her bunk and proceeded to strip and clean her gear before stuffing it into the trunk at the foot of her bed. It wasn't a bad haul for a day's work, but that still didn't help with the feeling of loneliness that filled her heart as she quietly wept while thinking of everyone that she had lost, about the boy with whom she had shared her first kiss. She hoped against all hope that he was still alive, and hadn't been one of the bodies left buried in the rubble.