CHAPTER XII

Dry heat beat down over dusty Western Thanalan as a small group of Immortal Flames crossed the Footfalls heading towards Crescent Cove. Reports from the distraught village had been pouring in of bandit extortion and human trafficking. Even more curious were the reports that the Brass Blades had all but ignored their plight.

Lieutenant Godfried walked ahead of his men as they entered Crescent Cove. Fisherman's wives eyed him curiously, if not suspiciously, as he stopped, scanning the little village.

"Good afternoon, my Lady." Marcus greeted the nearest of the fisher wives, giving her a charming smile in an attempt to put her at ease. The desired effect was reached, as the wife lowered her eyes, smiling shyly.

"Good afternoon, sir..." she replied" Welcome to Crescent Cove… are you here for...?" she trailed off, afraid to voice her hopes.

Marcus nodded, smiling. "Yes ma'am, we've heard your reports of activity in the area, and we have come to investigate. If there are bandits in this area, they shall learn to respect, or fear, the justice of Ul'dah."

Hearing this, the more cautious of the villagers approached. Marcus saluted them, and his men followed suit. Put at ease by the easy demeanor, and charming smile of the Lieutenant, soon the villagers were pouring the story out.

/

A small bandit group had been harassing the village for several weeks now. At first, it had started small, demanding food, and possessions, however gradually they took more, and more, making it difficult for the little Fishing village to turn a profit enough to make a living. Things grew worse, and when the Villagers could no longer meet the demands, the bandits began stealing away people, women and children.

Time and again the villagers had implored the local Brass Blade patrols for help, but would receive none. Those times that they did "help", it was to search half-heartedly around the Footfalls, before returning and reporting no findings.

Deciding that subtlety would be key in this mission, Marcus had his men hide away in the village elder's home. Leaving his company issued armor in their care; he donned a hooded cloak, covering his face and posing as a simple Sellsword, hired by the villagers.

Sure enough, the bandit leader, and his cronies, arrived in the village that night, calling the poor fishermen and wives out of their beds, to gather for a "talk".

"So 'oo was dat damned Flame wot' ya had here then?!" the leader spluttered at them once they had gathered. "Thot ya' culd get 'elp did ya?!" Wel' wher' is 'e now? 'im left ya jus' like the Blades, and now all ya' gots is this sorry arse Sellsword"

Saying so, he backhanded Marcus, knocking him to a knee. Marcus gritted his teeth in anger, resisting the urge to kill the man where he stood. Now was not the time, or the place. Many villagers would be hurt if he started a fight amongst them. No, he needed to find where they were hiding out… and something told him there must be someone more intelligent than this spluttering oaf of a man pulling the strings.

The bandits erupted in laughter as Marcus stood back up, only to be knocked down once more.

"Ya' see?! This is the best ya' can get, a weak arse sword that ain' worth the sweat down me crack! 'im better be gone afore we comes back, or we'l run ya all through an' feed ya to yer precious fishes."

Cackling sickeningly, the bandits tossed a few baskets of fish into the bay, and took a few more swipes at Marcus before disappearing into the night.

/

Marcus stalked the group through the Footfalls. The task was made all the easier by the loud shouting and laughing of the group as they stomped through the muddy waters.

Soon, the group disappeared into old crumbling ruins, ducking under fallen pillars and not even bothering to leave a guard or lookout.

"Arrogant fools…" Marcus thought to himself before heading back to the village to gather his men.

/

"We've got them cornered, like rats in a cage, what are we waiting? I say we slaughter them in their beds for daring to lay hands on the Lieutenant!" a passionate Lalafell complained, as the sun began to rise over the waiting group.

"I appreciate the concern Bubucawu, but I have a feeling that there's more to this than there seems." Marcus explained to the Lalafell, "We will stand watch, and see if this mastermind shows himself. Patience is key, my friend"

"Aye, calm yerself lil' greenhorn." A Highlander chimed in. "Before you go runnin' in, trippin' over yer own feet again."

A Roegadyn Hellsguard let out a short deep chested laugh.

"At least try to be quiet, Corporal, you're likely to wake the whole compound, and Ul'dah to boot with that behemoth laugh of yours." Marcus sighed, patting the Lalafell on the shoulder comfortingly.

Suitably chastened, the Lalafell plopped down on a rock, kicking his feet as they dangled over the edge."

The Flames sat around, taking turns on watch, those that were not on watch, napping, or playing games of Triple Triad.

The group consisted of Private Third Class, Bubucawu Jujucawu, an energetic Dunesfolk Thaumaturge fresh in the company, Private Second Class, Leofwynn Graves, a soft spoken, Midlander Conjurer, who had left Gridania to live with her husband in Ul'dah, Private First Class, Hallgrim Shatterfist, a Highlander Pugilist, who had earned a name for himself on the Bloodsands before enlisting in the Flames, and Corporal Iron Mountain, a massive Hellsguard Gladiator who's overwhelming strength was matched only by his voracious appetite.

/

"Lieutenant… I think someone is coming." Leofwynn signaled to the group.

Picking his way through the rubble was the unmistakable figure of a Brass Blade Captain. He didn't even bother hiding his issued armor, walking straight up to the ruins, and then emitting a sharp whistle, obviously a signal of some sort.

Shortly thereafter, the bandits emerged from the ruins, with their leader in tow.

"Ther' ya' are Baldewyn… Did ya' find anythin' on that damned Flame wat came snoopin' in our business?" The leader addressed the Blade, a Hyur Midlander.

"Aye… he's the Company's "Golden Boy". Lieutenant Marcus "The Bull" Godfried, they call him, on account o' his stubborn arse upholdin' of the law…" Baldewyn replied. "We ought to keep an eye on hi-"

Marcus signaled to his men to move, cutting off the traitor mid-sentence as they surged out from their spot, fanning out to corner the bandits and the Blade.

"Keep my name out of your mouth, Traitor." Marcus growled, drawing his blade, and staring with disgust at the Brass Blade.

The bandit leader gaped at Marcus, pointing dumbly. "You… you's that sword from las' night! You… you… brought yer' friends ta' get knocked down too, eh?!" he bluffed, trying to regain his composure.

Baldewyn rolled his eyes, and spat at the bandit. "You fool! That's the same Flame Lieutenant you saw in village! He must have followed you when you left the village last night, you loud mouthed buffoon!"

"Y-you watch yer' tongue Blade, or I'll take if fer meself! The Bandit sputtered, "Kill 'em all, boys! O' an save that pretty lil' lass fer' me!"

The bandits hesitated, used to bullying simple fishermen, and being backed by the local Blades that they had paid off. This was different, before them stood trained Immortal Flames, standing in battle formation, unafraid in the face of death itself.

"Go ya blighted cowards! The Bandit leader shouted, swinging his sword frenziedly at the nearest man.

The bandits moved forward cautiously. They outnumbered the Flames, two to one, yet they took little comfort from it.

Marcus barked an order, and suddenly, Iron Mountain bellowed savagely; charging into the midst of the bandits with Hallgrim close behind, sword, fists, and feet lashing left and right, as the battle finally began.

Fighting his way through the confusion, Marcus singled out the Blade Captain, shouting to him. "You and I, coward, I shall show you the true strength of Ul'dah!"

Metal clashed against metal, fists and feet, thudded against bodies, blasts of fire and shards of ice erupted, dropping men easily. The coordinated onslaught of the Flames wreaked havoc on the confidence of the wavering bandits. Worse yet, every time a bandit thought they'd managed to gain a hit; the Flames seemed unphased, being protected by the magicks of Leofwynn.

As soon as Marcus emerged from the fray, Baldewyn charged him, attempting to cut him down with a vicious overhand thrust of his lance, however Marcus easily deflected it with a flick of his buckler.

They circled each other, feinting, and testing the other for any signs of weakness.

Baldewyn lunged forward, sweeping the ground with his lance, attempting to knock Marcus off his feet. Marcus stepped back, slashing with his sword in a backhand strike as he moved out of the way. Baldewyn lifted his lance just in time, catching the blade on its shaft, and then planting a swift kick to the Flame's chest.

Marcus stumbled back only a step, before planting his foot down firmly, and dropping back into his stance.

Once more, the circling began. Waiting, watching. Marcus saw a light of cocky determination creep into his opponent's eyes. He readied himself for whatever attack was sure to come.

Baldewyn lunged forward, fast as lightning, thrusting with his lance, aiming to skewer the Flame with one massive strike. Spiraling to his left, Marcus brought his sword around in a savage backhanded stroke, cutting off the blade's front leg, before smashing him in the chest with his shield, knocking the wind out of him, and sending him sprawling to the dirt, clutching the stump of his severed leg.

Seeing his men losing, the bandit leader attempted to crawl his way out of the mob of fighting men. Just as he thought he had made it clear, he was lifted off the ground, and his whole world faded before his eyes as Iron Mountain smashed his nose in with a savage head butt, knocking him unconscious immediately.

Seeing their leader fall, the bandits threw down their weapons, groveling in the dirt for mercy. Hallgrim spit on the ground as the Flames sheathed their weapons. "Pitiful…"

/

Marcus stood over the fallen Brass Blade, sword at his throat. "Tie them up, and take them to the cart. We'll take them straight to the city.

Baldewyn spat up at Marcus. "Fool… men like you don't last long in Ul'dah… Your honor means shite… There will always be men like me, as long as the coin is better in crime, than it ever will be in justice..."

I'M UPLOADING A DAY EARLY, SO THAT HOPEFULLY I CAN GIVE EVERYONE JUST ONE MORE THING TO STAY OCCUPIED DURING THE DAY LONG MAINTENANCE. HEAVENSWARD IS ALMOST HERE!