All is Fair
Shouts arose from a small clearing along the road through the Great Forest of Relecour. Curious crows perched on the outskirts of the clearing and watched the circle of men and women cursing and cheering. Gold coins were exchanging hands rapidly as people made bets on the fight taking place in the circle's center.
Surrounded by the cacophony, an old, well-armoured knight was in the heat of battle against a purple-vested dilettante, brandishing an eyepatch and coming at him with twin sabers. As far as he could tell at this point, this man was the leader of the group who had appeared so suddenly and ambushed him on his journey to the North. A strange and ancient key had been found in the area and he had been sent by Overlord Rexan to investigate. The knight blocked another double slash of the sabers with his heavy shield and took another swing with his flail. "This is for shooting my horse!" he shouted.
His one-eyed opponent spun away to dodge the incoming attack, beads of sweat flying off into the crowd. "To be fair," he said, breathing hard, "you were the one trying to run from a formal trial-by-combat. How knightly is that?"
"Finish him boss! Give him the hook!" a large, burly man yelled from the side.
"Let me at him!" added a tattooed woman with bandages on her hands.
"Careful Mr. Gerard!" sounded a shrill, unseen voice from the back of the crowd.
"Gerard?" thought the knight, "That damn bandit king? What the hell does he want?"
Gerard glanced over the knight's shoulder and nodded curtly. A heartbeat later, the tip of an arrow pierced through the weaker metal behind the leg and the knight knelt over in pain. His adversary took the opportunity to rush him but failed to notice that the knight did not fall completely. "Fair huh? Fare this!" he shouted as he pushed his weight forward and slammed his shield into the man's chest, sending him sprawling back.
The knight wasted no time and rushed his downed opponent. He noticed the eyepatch had been knocked off, showing a grotesquely scared mass of eyelid where another green eye filled with fear should be. With the cries from the crowd and his heart pounding in his ears, he failed to hear the young boy, no older than fourteen, pushing through the bodies to the fallen fighter. "Mr. Gerard! Quick, use this!" the boy yelled with a small dagger in his outstretched hand, hilt facing outward.
Gerard looked over to the boy. There was less than a second to react. The knight's flail was already up above his head. With a grimace, Gerard reached his hand out, bypassing the dagger, and took firm hold of the boy's wrist…
It was too late to stop it. The knight had already begun the downward swing of his flail when he saw the man pull the young boy in front of him. It was a sickening crunch that sounded louder than it ever had before for the knight. The boy was dead before he could make a sound. The flail had hit him dead center in the chest, causing blood to spray from his mouth back onto the knight. Time froze and silence enveloped those standing by. His mind blank, the knight dropped to his knees, letting the bloodied flail fall to the ground. Gerard grunted and pushed the limp body off of him. It fell to the side, limbs splayed at awkward angles. "Shit, I think you broke my arm." he said, clutching his wrist.
"You...oh Gods. How...he was just...a boy..."
"Hm? Oh, yes...and he saved my life." The mercenary king turned to the stunned crowd and wiped his mouth of blood. "May we never forget the bravery shown this day by S-...uhh..." he paused, "...d...Dave! Our great and noble Dave."
Murmurs of agreement rose through the crowd as Gerard picked up the dagger that had fallen to the ground and turned back to the knight, still kneeling motionless on the ground. "Now, I had you knew something about a key..."
"Does this still mean Gerard won?" the burly man in the crowd whispered to the booker taking the bets. "I really need that money."
