Fallout: Blade of Night
"In a world full of guns, you are quite the stick in the mud," the bandit said as he held his pistol up to the mercenary's head. The night sky darkened the camp, lit only by the campfires which they relied on to survive. "Before I kill you, take everything valuable on you, and hang your head up on my wall, I want you to tell me one thing." The bandit leader glared at the mercenary as he simply smiled and asked, "And what might that be?"
"How in the name of god, did you infiltrate my camp, completely unnoticed by the dozen guards I posted outside, kill half of my good men, and manage to make it all the way to my tent before you got caught? Without even using a gun?" The swordsman hardly even looked him in the eye. But when he did, he seemed to be analyzing him, making him feel small. He was slightly short, about 5 foot 10. Even with a gun to his head and no weapon, he still seemed intimidating.
"Well if you must know… There was a hole in the fence surrounding your camp. This gave me an easy entrance. However, I could have snuck past the guards even without it. You clearly gave them no rest, as you didn't have enough men to have multiple shifts. They were tired, unable to focus properly, and with that advantage, your first line of defense became nearly useless." The bandit leader was shocked. No normal man in the wasteland ever made those sorts of observations. But he wasn't done yet. "Your men inside the camp were all either asleep or wandering around. You had no organization, and many places were left open for me to sneak about. And any who saw my approach were easily taken care of," he said, gesturing toward his blood-stained sword, held by another bandit a couple feet away. "Unfortunately," the swordsman said, "I did get caught. My mentor isn't going to be pleased with me. But that's not important. What is important is that you are dead, and this camp wiped out."
"Well, sorry to say that that isn't going to happen," the bandit leader said as his grip on the trigger of his gun tightened. He thought about how much his sword would be worth, and what he would spend all those caps on. Maybe a couple nights of good dinner, or a woman for the night, or maybe-
The gun was no longer in his hand. The swordsman had his arm wrapped around his, and was in the perfect position to break it. There's no way he could have moved that fast… the bandit leader thought to himself as the swordsman began to put pressure on his arm. A loud snap and a massive shot of pain told him that the arm was broken. He fell to his knees and grasped his arm, the pain blinding and dizzying him. As the three other bandits began to pull out their guns, the swordsman quickly moved from the leader to the one carrying his sword. He used the same method he used on the leader to disarm the bandit, and caught the sword as it fell from his hand, immediately slashing at the next bandit, cutting into his neck midway through the drawing of his gun. The swordsman turned back and sliced through the bandit he had disarmed. The last one had drawn his gun, and fired off two shots of his pistol before the swordsman reached him and impaled him through the chest.
The lone swordsman set fire to the camp and left through the hole he found in the gate. He couldn't kill the rest of the bandit's as his only option was to flee from the approaching guards, who had heard the gunshots. There was barely enough time to light the tents, but he had caused enough damage to disorganize them. They would scatter, and they would find other bandit camps to go to.
As the swordsman approached the cliff where he was to go after the mission, his mentor looked at him with disappointment. "Many, many mistakes, Alex. Many of which could have gotten you killed." The swordsman looked down at the ground as his mentor scorned him. "You are still not ready. You will continue to train with me until you are."
"Master, please!" The swordsman begged, "I'm capable enough to be out there on my own!"
"You are not trained enough in the way of the blade. You will not survive out here on your own, especially with the method of combat you have chosen to follow. The blade is a powerful weapon, and you have not properly mastered it. Until you have, you are to stay here, in my home. Now come along." His master began to walk towards home, and the young swordsman begrudgingly followed.
