Brexar pulled his axe from the chest of the last of the Sartosan pirates, and looked around the clearing as he yanked a cloak out from one of their number to clean the blade. No less than fifteen bodies lay scattered around in various forms of dismemberment, testament to the Slayer’s strength and combat prowess, yet his keen eye picked out several of their number that bore recent wounds not of his own making, perhaps only hours old.
It had probably been sheer bad luck on their part that he had run into them. It wasn’t as if he was trying to find trouble, at least not in them. The rumors of undead in the ruins of Organza had drawn him south from Altdorf, and these buffoons had merely gotten in his way. It didn’t help that they had challenged him as he passed on the road, despite the fact that they had been licking their wounds from another recent battle.
Whether they had won or lost that fight, he could not say, but there was a distinct lack of loot on their part, save for one thing… One of the few female members of the band was wearing a breastplate that was much cleaner than anything pirates normally owned, and looked very familiar. He slung his axe over his back and stomped over to the corpse. Miraculously, the armor itself was unscathed, the head of the pirate having been taken clean off.
Looking over the intricate skull and flame design on the chest, it slowly came to him – this had belonged to a Knight of the Blazing Sun, and female at that. Brexar wondered how many females were accepted into the order. Shrugging, he undid the clasps holding the armor on and hauled it off. Even if he couldn’t find the owner, who was likely dead, it might catch a decent price somewhere. Suddenly the sun caught the inside of the breastplate, illuminating an intricate engraving, and he peered closer to read it: “Giacinta Achille”
The armor dropped from his stunned fingers. He knew that name. He looked around rapidly, looking for anything else. No, this was the only piece… The lack of blood or damage meant that the woman might have lived… He walked around, piecing clues together, trying to think over the sounds of the birds, the trees, and the river…
The river! Gathering up the armor, he started moving towards the river, studying the ground intently. While he would never be as good a tracker as Arvelen, at least the elf had been able to teach him a little of the art. It became clear the direction the dance had taken the pirates – it ended at the river, and they had not bothered to cross. Probably because they couldn’t swim, he mused.
He stood there for a moment, studying the bank and the flowing river, until a gleam caught his eye. There, at the bottom of the river, gleamed yet another piece of armor. Divesting himself of his axe and the breastplate, he dove in after it, only to spot other pieces on his way down. By the time he had finished, he had uncovered almost a full suit of plate, stacked on the shore with his axe, but no body.
Deciding the armor would have to stay put, he did his best to conceal it on the bank of the river, then began to swim across to the other side, where he began his search anew. It didn’t take long to find footprints in the soft ground of the river bank, leading towards the forest. The sun was beginning to set, and so he began to hurry, knowing that despite his excellent night vision, it would be difficult to track Giacinta in the forest once night fell.
He began to hurry even faster when he spotted blood spattered here and there, brushed off on leaves and branches, and mixed in with the footprints on the ground. Out of the corner of his eye though, he spotted the faint gleam of fire deeper in. Perhaps it was her? Or someone else who had spotted her? Ignoring the tracks now, he forged towards it, bursting into the small clearing.
There before him was Giacinta, sitting on a log, a fire burning low. She turned to him slowly, clearly confused. Brexar looked at her quizzically, “Giacinta?”
“W… Wh… What?” Stammered the young woman, clearly bewildered. “Who are you?”
“I’m Brexar… You don’t remember me?” Brexar slowly eased his axe to the ground and took a few steps forward. Giacinta shied away, and he reached out with both hands, palms up. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to see if you’re wounded.”
She nodded, “My… head hurts… And I feel dizzy. And no, I don’t know you at all.”
Brexar lowered his hands and took a few more steps forward, examining her closely. She appeared mostly unscathed, save for a nasty looking head wound that was caked in dried blood, the hair matted across it. “You’d been hit in the head… Did you sleep at all?”
“What? Aye, I think so…”
“Right. Can you carry your sword? Walk? I can bandage you up a bit for now, but we should probably get you to Conserta in the morning, see if they have a healer. In the meantime I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“Uh… All right?” Giacinta seemed to relax slightly.
“Good.” Brexar moved and sat down on the opposite side of the fire. “First, your name is Giacinta Achille, and, as I said, my name’s Brexar, and I’m a Slayer….”
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