Southtown
Wind blew gently across the plains surrounding the settlement. Normally, the blue sky would have been beautiful, the wispy white clouds puttering along with the wind.
Now, however, it was marred with many streaking of grey and black as ugly smoke rose from below, ashes spinning in the wind.
This was of no concern to the hooded traveler, whose attention was fixed on the parchment in his hand.
"Hm…5000 gold…." Robin muttered to himself in contemplation as he raised his sight back to the burning village. "Looks like he's here, then." He rolled the parchment up and slipped it back into his cloak pocket.
Now was the time to go to work.
Further east, a blue-haired noble trotted along, his head turned to the sky. He breathed deep, savoring the clean summer air. "Ahhhh. Nothing like fresh air."
"Yeah. Fresh air." A deadpan voice from beside him muttered. Turning, the noble met the eye of his blond sister, her pigtails swaying in the wind. "Yes Chrom, the fresh air is completely worth the sore feet." The sarcasm in her voice was painfully obvious.
Chrom chuckled as he responded. "Oh come on Lissa. It's not that bad."
The Ylissian princess shot a glare at her older brother. "We've been walking for days, Chrom. My legs feel like jelly."
"If you find these activities unpleasant, milady, perhaps you would be more comfortable back at the castle." This came from a rather tall and intimidating man clad in blue and white armour and leading a similarly armoured horse behind him.
Lissa turned to the knight with a pout. "Nice try, Frederick. You've been against me being here since the beginning."
"It would be safer for you-"Frederick attempted to argue.
"Frederick, just give up." Chrom told his retainer, grinning at the man's frustration. "You know she won't change her mind about coming with us. She is a Shepherd, after all."
"Yeah! I'll get used to this soon! I know I will." Lissa chimed in.
Frederick sighed. "We're almost to Southtown, Milady. You can rest there for a time before we return to the capital."
Lissa beamed. "Our first patrol as official Shepherds!"
Chrom smiled at his sister's enthusiasm. She was right, after all.
It had only been a few months since Emmeryn had agreed to fund his militia, and before now, he had been forced to remain in the capital, the Shepherds lacking the numbers for official patrols. But now, he had enough followers to leave the city while having a reserve supply of Shepherds for emergency use.
He had found a natural fighter and mage living in the capital during his search for recruits, as well as a few knights that had volunteered from his service.
"We'll keep the Halidom safe together, sis. I know we will."
"I know we-"Lissa's attention was caught on something behind her brother, something that made her face pale considerably. "Chrom, look!"
The prince spun on the spot, eyes widening as he saw pillars of smoke rising from ahead. "Southtown is burning! We have to go now!"
And the trio ran towards the source of the smoke.
Stealthily, Robin made his way through the narrow alleyways that snaked through Southtown, judging his surroundings.
A small band of brigands had apparently decided that this town was worth plundering, though Robin had no idea why. This was a farming community, and had little in the way of luxuries. Most likely, he decided, they were just out for blood.
And standing in front of the church, barking orders that mostly went unheeded, was the man the cloaked warrior was searching for.
Garrick. Known bandit leader and wanted criminal. Bounty of 5000 gold for his head.
'My meal-ticket.' Robin thought to himself as he considered his options.
He didn't 'have' to defeat all the bandits. As long as he got Garrick, the rest would likely scatter. Beyond that, they weren't his concern. But there were still a rather large number of bandits roaming around, pillaging what remained of the market, barring his access to his target. What he really needed was a distraction….
"Stop, in the name of Ylisse!"
That voice, booming across the market brought Robin's attention to the far side of the square, where a trio of newcomers caught his eye.
One was clearly a Ylissian Knight, judging by the design of his armour and the military fashion in which he held his lance.
Behind him, oddly, was a short woman holding a basic healing staff in white-knuckled hands, shifting uncomfortably. She was wearing cleric robes bottomed in a rather large cage-skirt.
And at the head of this mismatched pair, was the man who had shouted moments before. He was shorter than the knight and was dressed in clothes that could only have been from a professional tailor. Grasped in his hand was a very ornate looking sword.
But it wasn't until he saw the Brand clearly on his arm that the hidden man knew exactly who he was.
Chrom. Prince of Ylisse and Captain of the Shepherds.
The bandits either didn't know who the man was, or did and didn't care. They stormed towards the group, weapons drawn and grins bloodthirsty.
What happened next made Robin's jaw almost drop.
The Prince and Knight charged straight ahead to meet the brigands head-on, leaving the cleric too far away to be of any assistance. Add to that, on top of the axe-wielding barbarians and sword-totting myrmidons, the brigand force happened to include a trio of mages, who wasted no time in flipping open their tomes and preparing to rain magic upon the oblivious Ylissians.
"Idiots…." Robin muttered to himself.
Basic survival skill. Look before you leap.
No, that wasn't it. The Prince had clearly seen the number of bandits, as well as the side alleyways he could have used to his advantage, but instead chose a frontal assault against foes who easily outnumbered him?!
Now they were too far into the square to safely retreat and the cleric couldn't come close enough to use her staff without placing herself in danger.
This did, however, work to Robin's advantage.
Seeing the young Lord had drawn away most of the brigands from the church, leaving only Garrick and a pair of myrmidons.
"Won't have a better chance…."
Robin emerged from his hiding place, stepping into the market and into view of his target.
Garrick immediately noticed his presence.
"Oi!" The barbarian shouted. "Who're you?!"
Robin didn't respond, his hand itching to grab his sword or tome, but he resisted the temptation. He was still outnumbered.
Something he needed to fix.
The Myrmidons sneered as they stepped towards him. "Looks like we've got ourselves a hero."
"Heroes don't exist." Robin spat in reply. "I'm here for my own reasons."
Garrick's lips twisted into a bloodthirsty smile. "Those reasons won't matter when you're dead!"
The myrmidons took that as the signal to attack, charging towards Robin with swords ready to slash.
Robin let them close, his hands dropping into his cloak and grabbing his weapons.
When his opponents were close enough, Robin struck. He lashed to his right with a foot, colliding with one man's knee with a crunch and a cry of pain as the poorly trained swordsman stumbled. As he did so, Robin brought his left arm out, bashing the other in the side of the head with the hilt of his sword. While they were both stunned by the sudden attacks, Robin slashed his blade across the closest brigand's throat while muttering an incantation, sending an orb of Thunder towards the other from his free hand.
Both myrmidons collapsed, much to Garrick's anger.
"You bastard!" He roared, his grip tightening around his hand axe.
Robin didn't react. If anything, he was pleased with this turn of events.
An enraged man was more prone to mistakes.
Chrom panted heavily, sweat dripping from his brow and Falchion hanging almost limply at his side.
He and Frederick had defeated most of the bandits that had rushed to meet them, but it was not without cost.
While Frederick seemed to be unharmed for the most part, his armor was now sporting a fresh scorch mark in the shoulder.
The real issue was Chrom himself. He wasn't as adept at dodging magic as his retainer, and had failed more than once at avoiding the spells that had been sent his way.
"Hold still, Chrom! This is hard enough without you fidgeting!" Lissa scolded, holding her staff aloft and summoning it's magic.
The Prince sighed in relief as the pain began to subside and strength once again found it's way into his muscles.
"Milord!" Frederick arrived at his side at that moment. His eyes hardened when he saw the blood-stains and fresh scars around the gashes in the prince's clothes. "The majority of the bandits have either fled or been slain. From what I saw, only the leader remains."
"Good." Chrom forced himself to stand straight. "Let's get over there and be done with this."
Before Chrom could take a step, however, Frederick blocked his path. "Hold a moment, Milord." The Great Knight narrowed his eyes, looking to the far side of the market. "It appears we're not alone in this endeavour."
Chrom followed his gaze before spotting the same thing. "Who is that?"
Robin grunted as his back made intimate contact with the cobblestone street before quickly rolling to his feet once more, narrowly avoiding an axe in the chest as Garrick brought his weapon down. The hand axe was slightly rusty and looked like it had been poorly sharpened, but a direct hit could still prove lethal to the lightly armoured man.
Garrick himself was now sporting a trio of shallow slash wounds across his torso, but none were deep enough to prove lethal.
As the barbarian continued his attack, Robin continued making a mental checklist of the man's qualities.
He had strength, but not the skill to know how to use it best, or the speed to effectively hit an evasive target.
Beyond that, the man had no style beyond blindly swinging his axe.
Predicable offence, no defence.
Now, Robin just needed to make an opening.
Luckily, his latest dodge had brought him close to what remained of a burning cart.
Robin waited as his opponent charged until they were barely feet apart. Then, trying to ignore the heat, he grabbed a handful of the burning ash and flung it into the brigand's face.
"AHH!" Garrick screamed, covering his face with a hand as the hot ash entered his eyes. He stumbled away, wiping his wrist across his eyes again and again.
Robin didn't give him the time to recover. He followed with a slash from his sword, the steel blade cutting though Garrick's tattered clothes, then though flesh before catching on bone. He yanked his blade back as Garrick collapsed to his knees, his axe forgotten as he clutched the terrible wound. He tried to scream, but the only sound that escapes in wet groan.
Robin didn't even pause. He brought his blade down once again, this time, piercing the brigand leader's heart. With a final cough, Garrick collapsed, his breaths stopping.
Chrom watched as the brigand leader fell, eyes locked on his killer.
The hooded man didn't seem to notice them, instead kneeling beside the dead man, like hunter examining his prey.
Slowly, Chrom moved closer to the figure, Frederick right beside him.
But both men froze when they saw what the figure did next.
Muttering some words too quietly for them to hear clearly, the figure summoned magic.
A pure black portal spread from below the body, the edge radiating thin streams of black smoke. The corpse slipped inside, and disappeared from view.
"Plegian magic…" Frederick muttered, his eyes hardening as the portal vanished.
"Let's not jump to concussions here, Frederick." Chrom insisted. "I should at least speak to him first."
Frederick clearly disliked the idea, but held his tongue as Chrom approached the man.
"Hello." Chrom called after a moment, internally wincing at the lameness of the word.
The man didn't respond, instead drawing himself up to his full height and slipping his sword back into the sheath inside his robe before turning away from the market, towards an alleyway.
"Hold sir!" Chrom called again, jogging towards the figure and grabbing his shoulder. "Did you not hear me before?"
"Yes, I heard you." The man responded, his voice showing his annoyance. "I simply did not want to speak with you."
Chrom was not used to being ignored intentionally. "Perhaps you will think differently after introductions. My name is-"
"I know who you are, Prince Chrom." Robin cut him off. "And I would greatly appreciate it if you would remove your hand."
Chrom released his grip, but frowned as Robin did not turn to look him. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance in this battle. Garrick could have proven difficult to defeat."
"Keep your thanks. I didn't do this out of the goodness of my heart, or to assist you." Robin responded, his tone clearly displaying his growing frustration. "If that is all, I will be on my way."
He barely made it three steps before Chrom grabbed his shoulder again. "Wait. Please."
Robin bit back a curse. "What?"
"Why are you so desperate to leave?" Chrom asked, his confusion evident. "All I want is to talk to you."
"I am not desperate." Robin informed him, turning to scrutinize the prince from under his hood. "And I have nothing to say to you. I want nothing to do with the Exalted family at all, in fact."
Chrom racked his brain, trying to think of something that could hopefully make this man less hostile, but found none. He was used to being treated with respect, admiration and small amount of intimidation. Being dismissed so forwardly was a new feeling to him.
Unfortunately, Frederick chose this moment to involve himself.
"And why should we allow a Plegian like yourself to go free?" The Knight asked, his eyes sharp enough to cut stone.
Chrom shot an irritated look at his knight. "Frederick, I told you I would handle this."
Fredick bowed to the prince, his body forming a perfect L before he straightened. "Forgive me, Milord, but I cannot allow this man to continue disrespecting you. Especially when he is clearly waiting for his chance to strike at you."
Now, Robin had had enough. He tilted his head back to meet the taller man's eye. From within the shadows of his hood, the only thing the knight could see were two burning jewels of red. "And what evidence do you have that I am planning to attack the prince?"
Frederick was not intimidated, and returning the glare with one of his own, pushing his vision to attempt catch a glimpse of the suspected Plegian's face. "Plegia had been making att-"
"I wasn't talking about Plegia." Robin snapped, folding his arms. "What have I, specifically, done that poses a threat against your prince?"
"So you don't deny being Plegian?" Frederick asked, his voice dangerously low.
"I am not Plegian, or Ylissian." Robin told them, turning away, prepared to leave.
"Than what are you?" Chrom asked, placing himself between the man and his knight.
Robin grit his teeth. "To your people, I am a mongrel. I am scum. I am Robin." He muttered another incantation and vanished in a brief flash of light.