I'm Alive! ALIVE I TELL YOU!

School work, and Vacation just ate a lot out of me, you know.


Nobody really enjoyed marching in the bandit troop. It had always been an exhausting chore, one that involved packing up a small village of tents, strapping on comically oversized packs, and walking several miles for three days. It was a task Luso was all too familiar with as Leader would order the group to relocate every other raid. Garrick, after he took over Leader's position, refused to march, claiming it was a waste of time that could otherwise be spent pillaging other villages.

It was not until now that the foolishness of not relocating came into effect. A few days after the bandit raids, news of the attacks spread to the capital of Ylisse. The Shepherds were among those informed.

In the aftermath of the conflict with Plegia, Ylisse did not need a standing army. The Pegasus knights remained at full strength to swiftly patrol the borders as well as to relay information throughout the realm, but the former legions of knights and cavaliers were dissolved. To replace them, every village had a militia, which served to protect the inhabitants of each village from harm. However, it soon became apparent that the village militias were not effective in hunting down bandits. Often times when a group of bandits was chased out of a village by the militia, the militia would not pursue. Most militias chose to defend the village instead of stirring up more trouble by leaving it undefended to chase after an unknown enemy. Defeated bandits would slink away, lick their wounds and strike again at a different village. This problem became more and more worrying as the more strategic bandit leaders would observe the village militias for a day or so then pick and choose which villages to assault. Eventually, certain bandit tacticians, such as Leader, became so adept at selecting their fights that every village they chose as their target was successfully pillaged. It became apparent that there needed to be some method of eliminating bandit troops which did not bank on a bandit's mistake, simply because veteran bandits rarely failed.

When Prince Chrom came of age, he created the Shepherds. The Shepherds were by no definition an army, it lacked the numbers, the discipline (though Frederick scared nearly everyone into line), and the structure that characterized an army. What they were was an elite, handpicked, rambunctious crew of warriors to hunt down and eliminate notable bandit groups. When a bandit troop was confirmed to work in a certain place, a team of three or four Shepherds assisted by nearby militiamen would be dispatched to kill every single bandit in said area.

As Leader constantly moved his troop about in unusual patterns he had cleverly avoided the Shepherd kill teams sent to investigate the villages he pillaged. However, Garrick remained in one location and pillaged six villages within four miles of each other. Chrom found the issue serious enough to warrant sending two teams of Shepherds to Southtown and the neighboring regions, as well as to lead one squad personally. It was the red cavalier's, Sully's, team that found Garrick's camp.

The bandits never stood a chance. Sully, Virion, Miriel, Stahl, and sixteen militiamen launched a surprise night time attack, catching them off guard. A third of the bandits had passed out due to alcohol poisoning and was easily cut down in the first charge. It was a lucky break that enough bandits were sober enough to prevent the inner circle of tents from being penetrated; as it allowed twenty or so still sleeping bandits to wake up, arm themselves and prepare a counterattack. As one of the few members of the Soothsires that wasn't drunk off his ass, Luso was at the moment the most important defenders of the camp.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Luso flicked his iron sword to his right to parry the lunging assault of a lance wielder. Had he been even the slightest bit intoxicated, there was no doubt he would have been impaled multiple times, instead of the moderate slice he had taken to the stomach. He glanced to his left and right and quickly realized many of his compatriots had not been so lucky. Luso had seen four drunken bandits clumsily swinging axes towards a pair of militiamen; one of them accidently killed himself with his own rusty axe and the other three were so slow with their attacks that the militiamen easily dodged their swipes and lunges and counterattacked. Two of the bandits fell to a few swift sword-strokes; the last was killed by a lance head to the neck. With no other targets remaining, they both turned on the mercenary.

Luso roared an inhuman war cry in an attempt to intimidate his foes. When the soldiers shuddered in anticipation, waiting for a suicidal charge, it gave him just a few seconds to analyze the situation. Even with Matthew's quick reflexes, fighting two people at once would be a total disaster. Sure, it may be simple during sparring and or during the chaos of a battle, but in a small skirmish, numbers meant a huge deal. Block one person's attack the other's gets through; if you stab one person through the chest, while your back is turned the other will get you. No, fighting recklessly would be the worst possible idea.

There were three basic tactics for fighting more than one opponent and none of them were stupid like using two swords or some fancy weapon that defied all laws of common sense. He could run away, force his enemies to come at him one at a time or attempt to strike down one as quickly as possible to even the odds.

None of those options but the last one was available to him. The tents were behind him and blocked any speedy exit from the brawl and the area he was confined to lacked any sort of natural barriers. Hell he couldn't even hide, his chest wound was bleeding pretty badly, the blood trail would lead them to him even if he managed to get away. It was vexing that the suicidal charge was his only real option; even more so because he had already made them prepared for a rush instead of just striking first and getting it over with.

He could win this fight; he had to win this fight. Luso breathed in, steeling himself for his attack. Don't be afraid. Don't be scared. Go.

"Here he comes!"

"I've got him... Wait, is he actually going to charge this time? Oh crap, he's doing it!"

Two slashes, two screams of pain, and all were silent.

Luso opened his eyes, praying that it went well, and was mildly pleased by the results. One militiaman had a sword through his shoulder, that was his own handiwork. The second? He had already fallen, an arrow through his helmet's eye slit.

"Matthew," Tomas leaped out of a tree, longbow in hand. "Looked like you needed some help,"

"Thanks." Luso sighed in relief. "I thought I was a goner there."

Tomas handed Luso a piece of cloth. "Press this against your wounds, I don't have any concoctions. Got new orders from the top."

"What are they?" Luso winced as he placed the towel over his stomach. "This situation is pretty bad. How'd Garrick come up with a plan, what the hell is the plan?"

"Well..."

"Is there a plan?" Luso exclaimed.

"There is one but you aren't going to like it."


Garrick had looked absolutely terrified when he heard about the attack. The bandit chief had been shaken awake just as the shepherd's first charged. Pockets of fighting had continued about the camp, but otherwise there was no organized resistance. Ten out of his thirty five men had been killed in the past fifteen minutes. It wasn't surprising that he was scared. However, it was also a sight neither Tomas nor Isaac wanted to see. They needed a unified front, and Garrick had to be the one to give the order for anything remotely resembling that to happen.

"Leader, they've retreated for now." Tomas noted. "But this lull probably won't last long. We need a strategy in this battle."

"Isaac, can you tell me our status?" Garrick said, breathing heavily to compose himself.

"We're already tired from the last few days, not to mention the hits we've taken already. I don't think we'll be able to fight off the next strike without heavy casualties. We need to retreat." Isaac shook his head, sweat running down his brow. "No matter how distasteful it may be."

"We cannot just outrun cavaliers; we'd be tracked and hunted down like dogs." Garrick shook his head as he snatched up his short axe. "How do you propose we'd escape?"

"I can think only one way, we throw some bait and the rest of us run." Isaac said.

"You're suggesting that we sacrifice someone?" Garrick muttered.

"One person stays behind and distracts the Shepherds as long as possible. While he does so, the rest of us scatter into the woods to prevent leaving a trail. We'll regroup at another place and time."

"I see, leave one to die to save the rest. It makes sense, but who would be willing to throw away their life?" Garrick sighed. "Do we have anyone crazy enough to volunteer?"

"It isn't like we have some master tactician Leader, it's that or praying for a miracle." Isaac said.

"Commander, Let me." Tomas stepped forward, his face steadfast and full of an eerie determination. "With my arrows I could inflict the most damage without getting counterattacked, and there are plenty of places where an archer could hide. If you give me the longbow, I may be able to wound their magician without being injured."

"We'll meet in the old camp in the forest next to Southtown," Garrick whispered. "Send the word to gather half of our forces to the camp center. We'll bust through then. The stragglers will just have to retreat later."


"Tomas, are you insane?" Luso grabbed the archer's shoulder and shook him. "I don't understand, you hated doing this! Why would you sacrifice yourself for a bunch of scumbags?"

"It's because we're people like us." Tomas smiled sadly. "We're horrible. We kill, steal, we slave. If I'm going to die, I want to die for something I believe in. Something just. I'll be happy dying for my friends instead of for some damn piece of gold or petty revenge."

"Tomas..." Luso replied.

"Get ready to run." Tomas said. "And keep your sword in your hand. Knowing Garrick, he's not going to be discreet like Leader."

A voice echoed throughout the entire forest. "Alright maggots draw your weapons and look sharp. We're busting through in one clean strike, after we break free, split up and scatter." Garrick had bellowed loud enough for every last bandit in the camp to hear, and most of the Ylisseans too. "We'll meet again at the full moon, at the old camp where Rodriguez set Lyon's pants on fire? If you don't recall, then find someone who does, damn it. Let's go! Charge!"

The archer shoved Luso forward. "That's your cue!"

"Tomas!"

"I mean it, go!" Tomas hissed.

Luso turned about and started running towards Garrick's voice.

"Are you an idiot?" Tomas said. "Garrick just telegraphed where he was to the Ylissean commander. If you go towards him now, you'll die when their forces circles around to prevent our stragglers from regrouping. Escape in the opposite direction Matt, You won't find as many of them if you go that way!"

Luso nodded quickly before dashing into the thickets of the forest before Southtown, vanishing into the black deciduous woods.

Tomas climbed up to a vantage point and drew the longbow dug out of the camp storage and positioned himself in the former sparring ground.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, in and out. He could hear screams as the bandits plowed through a small section of the Ylissean force in their escape attempt. If the Ylisseans tried to chase after them they would undoubtedly go the most efficient and cleared route; the camp center.

Tomas shifted back and forth and pulled off his pack and water skin. Everything but his armor and his bow and arrows had to go.

The rhythmic crunch of fallen branches was enough for Tomas to know the Ylisseans were approaching. In just a few moments they would be within sight.

The archer turned around and started to run away, shouting. "Garrick wait, I'm coming!"

It was a lie, and Garrick knew it just by recognizing Tomas's voice. But the Ylisseans didn't. Within minutes the entire group of soldiers began to converge on his position.

Tomas quickly dashed into the underbrush, deliberately kicking up piles of leaves and stepping on branches to provide plenty of noise for the Shepherd to track.

Once the soldiers started to approach closer and closer, Tomas started to cut through especially thick forested areas; as a bandit who regularly navigated such areas, he was barely impeded compared to his pursuers. The thick woodlands also provided ample room for Tomas to double back and start making noise in an entirely different area forcing them to turn around and renew their search.

Yet even with the terrain, Tomas could not elude the militiamen forever. After a few soldiers caught more than a peek of him, doubling back would get him surrounded as they would simply call out his hiding place. Also, densely forested area trampled over by ten men and a horse generally did not slow down anyone much afterwards.

It had to come down to this.

Tomas leaped over a fallen oak, pivoting with his right hand, and turned about to face two of his faster pursuers. Within moments both of them fell to the ground, shafts protruding from their chests. Yet in the time he had taken to kill those two, another two appeared in their place, and a crowd of five including the cavalier Tomas identified as the Shepherd Sully was just behind them. Just out of spite the archer drew the longbow and fired at her, hoping for a lucky hit. The bolt flew just shy of Sully's face, and slammed into the trunk next to her. Although the attack had failed, and most likely reduced the time Tomas had left, it was still oddly satisfying. Then he heard a voice.

"My dear lady, are you harmed? Have no fear; the archest of archers will deal with his ilk."

Tomas recoiled in pain, and instinctively clutched his arm. The bandit looked down, and saw an arrow embedded deep into his shoulder.
A cursory glance towards the direction he was shot from was enough to tell Tomas that whoever had shot him had done so through a particularly thick grove of bushes. This "Archest or Archers" was skilled indeed, Tomas thought as he stumbled behind a rock formation. Hopefully he could stay out of sight long enough to-

"Virion, you say you can see where the archer is? My capability for observation is unmatched yet I see no trace of him."

"My dear lady if you'd just throw your fireball, towards that particular area, you'd see for yourself where he is hidden."

"Very well."

Tomas screamed as the flames licked around the formation he was hiding behind and wrapped around him. His right arm, already torn apart by an arrow was cooked, and was sizzling from the burns. Now, he had no plan left. All he had to do was to escape, be anywhere but here. When his feverish sense of being faded away, Tomas suddenly realized that he had stumbled into a clearing.

The Ylissean soldiers broke out of the woods and spread out around him. Tomas dropped his bow when he saw that he was surrounded. There wasn't any point left in running. His fate was already decided. Many of the soldiers refused to believe that he was the only one that was there; a few left to search for others. The remaining hefted the lances and dealt with the bandit they knew existed.

"Heh..." Tomas said. "Looks like my time is up... Lord Grima, Lady Naga, did I do what was right?"

It wasn't until the archer's chest was ripped completely to pieces and his organs turned to mush that the soldiers finally stopped their assault.

Sully stood by for a time, and watched them kill the Plegian, finding it hard to find sympathy for him. However she did note something about the boy. He was smiling. And damn him, because nobody smiled when they died unless they had done something that would end up being a pain in the ass for whoever offed them.


Author's Notes.

One of my main ideas in fanfic is to try to make it as true to the game as possible and make it entirely possible to implement this story in the game. The bandit chapters would be a prologue of sorts, and whoever was sacrificed could be selected by the player.

Choose a decoy.

If Isaac was chosen.
"Allow me to stay behind, I suggested this plan, so let me be the one who carries it out. Don't mourn for me, I always knew I would die fighting Ylisse."

"Matt, Tomas... I hope you escaped..."

If Luso was chosen.
"I'll be the decoy. I'm already faced death, and I'm not afraid to face it again."

"I suppose dying for my friends isn't the worst fate I could manage..."


If Tomas survived.

Roster.

Tomas- The Green Archer.

A former Plegian Bandit who's turned over a new leaf. He's surprisingly pleasant to talk to, despite his former profession, but will often speak sadly about his own past and ideas. The most easily lost in thought.

Confession Quote. Me? Really? Me? I've always thought someone like you would settle for someone better.

Base Classes.

Archer, Thief, Cavalier.


Non story related stuff!

PMs between Sheshellsally and me.
[Context. I used the word shuttered instead of shuddered.]
/When the soldiers shuttered in anticipation,/

I think you mean shuddering or else...

{"Draw the curtains Larry, this one's a screamer." One militiaman said to his friend as he observed the young man shredding his pipes while waving his sword in the air.

"Bloody bandits!" Larry spat as he undid the sash allowing the silk curtains to cover the window. "My ma always said bandits were like tornados, ya gotta batten down the hatches and wait for them to blow over. We ought a nail this down too."

"Might as well." his friend said shrugging "We got time. this one's giving me the ole' Kamehameha."

Ignorant of their barbs Luso screamed on as they gathered wooded planks to nail the window shut unaware his lips were turning a violent shade of oxygen deprived blue.}
Yeah, she has a quite the sense of humor. Go read her stories, they have a frightfully low number of readers.

Anyways, Do not own jack. Have fun!