Adrien had barely entered the Salma District when he heard a familiar voice call, "Over here!" Turning around, the blond saw his close friend, Lord Faren, approaching with a wide grin on his face.
"The hero of Shaemoor returns!" Faren greeted, and Adrien almost winced. He wasn't the true hero of Shaemoor- that title belonged to the mystery elementalist who had saved him and the Seraph forces. "Come and see how friends and neighbours alike have turned out to welcome you home!"
"A party, Faren? For me?" Adrien asked, though a small smile crossed his face as he looked at the large crowds of people milling just ahead. He'd been to a few parties among the nobility before, but he'd never been an important guest. It was a new feeling, one he decided he liked. "Or is it just an excuse to get your friends together and see what's in my wine cupboard?" It was a joke, of course- Adrien couldn't drink. His father wouldn't let him have even a sip of alcohol. As a result, most of the alcohol he owned was meant for Faren's consumption anyway.
"Nonsense! Heroes are always popular," Faren defended himself, and there was that hero word again. Adrien wasn't a hero. "These nice people simply insisted on congratulating you and celebrating your brave victory."
"And you insisted on breaking out my finest food and drink for the occasion."
"You deserve no less. Still, I can't take all the credit," Faren chuckled. "Your household staff was most helpful, even eager, to facilitate the process." Which meant that his father knew about his exploits. Adrien resisted the temptation to sigh- he would be in for a lecture later. "I wish my servants loved me half as much," Faren continued. "But then again, I am lovable in other ways."
And the less said about that, the better, Adrien thought, knowing well his friend's inflated ego. "Come on. Let's go enjoy the party- and my finest roast duck and brandy."
Faren sauntered off. Adrien began to do the same. Servants constantly offered him snacks and refreshments, most of which he politely declined with a smile. After a while, he found himself swept into a conversation with a noble he knew as Baroness Yolanda.
"It gladdens my heart to see you well, my lord," she trilled, beaming as she held out a hand towards him. "Praise be to Dwayna for keeping you safe. You're as brave as you are handsome."
Adrien took her hand and bowed over it, smiling back politely. He was well accustomed to Yolanda's flirting, though he still wasn't sure whether she genuinely liked him or whether it was just in her personality. "Thank you, Baroness. Have I missed anything important?"
"Oh, times are grim," Yolanda twittered. "The Ministry Guard does their best to protect us, but the Seraph are unforgivably lax. Centaurs are everywhere outside the city, and thieves are everywhere within!"
"That is unfortunate," Adrien replied, though his mind was churning with the information. Thieves within Divinity's Reach? "Excuse me, I should mingle. Enjoy the party, Baroness."
The next person he talked to he knew as Lady Mashewe. "Dwayna bless Captain Thackeray for saving you," she greeted, a half-filled glass of bubbly champagne in her hand. "You look fit and well!"
"Thank you, my lady," Adrien smiled, though his mind wasn't fully there. I've never heard of thieves within Divinity's Reach. Outside the city, yes, but inside… "Your concern is touching."
"I wasn't the only one concerned," Lady Mashewe replied, delicately holding her free hand to her heart. "You have many friends who think highly of you." But how many of them know the true me? "My mother even prayed for you!"
"Give your mother my best, and enjoy the party," Adrien said distractedly. The information about the bandits still weighed on his mind. I can't stay here… I'll just be distant. Where's Faren? The blond noble began to search for his friend, finding him lingering near the outskirts of the partygoers.
"Do you enjoy the festivities, old friend?" Faren asked as he spotted Adrien approaching. He nodded quickly.
"Yes, but I think I'm done."
"I'm outgrowing this party myself," his friend responded. "I'll tell the servants we're leaving."
"Sounds good. Thanks," Adrien quickly thanked him. Faren walked away, and he turned back to the large crowd who had gathered in celebration of his- or what they viewed as his- victory.
Suddenly, he heard a scream, followed by Faren's voice cutting sharply through the air angrily. "Take your hands off of me, you scum! Help! Murder! Mayhem!"
Adrien's hands went to the greatsword sheathed on his back without even thinking, the illusionary black armour appearing as soon as the weapon was brought to bear. Turning, he quickly realized the source of the chaos- bandits. Their tattered uniforms, messy hair and unwashed smell made them easily identifiable. If they're in the city, of course they would use a large gathering like a party to cause havoc! Ah, I better deal with them quick… Faren was yelling. It sounded like he was in trouble!
A cutpurse approached him, brandishing twin daggers. His ugly face was set in a leer, and Adrien gritted his teeth. Come on, Adrien… it may be another human, but it's a human that would take your life, and anyone else's, without remorse. Don't get cold feet now! Inhaling sharply, he rushed forwards, swinging his greatsword in a wide arc that had become familiar to him. He saw the bandit's eyes widen as realization dawned on them, and he felt his weapon slice into flesh. The guardian averted his eyes from the gruesome sight, focusing straight ahead- he knew better than to focus on the red that would be streaming from the still, lifeless body.
Two thugs rushed at him, their shields held defensively, ready to strike out with their maces. Adrien knew his greatsword could bite through the flimsy metal of their shields, but it would take a few extra seconds. The blond also knew those few extra seconds could cost him his life- he needed to take them out immediately. A technique came to mind, one that he'd seen one of the Seraph using. Adjusting his grip, he swung his weapon out, spinning his entire body as he did so. He became a whirlwind of destruction, a much stronger force. At the last moment, a thought occurred to him, and Adrien aimed his technique lower, so that the inevitable injuries would cripple, but not kill.
His idea succeeded as the two thugs collapsed on top of each other, groaning as they clutched their sides. Adrien knew it wasn't necessary to go any further- the Seraph would be by soon enough and they could arrest the two then- if they didn't bleed out first. The thought made Adrien nauseous.
He felt a sting in his right shoulder, and looked to see that a bullet had bitten into his flesh. It wasn't anything major, barely having managed to punch through his armour, and he quickly tracked it to the source. The bandit scout had a rifle pointed at him, a torch wielded in their off hand. Adrien swallowed thickly, wondering how to approach a ranged enemy- in the battle of Shaemoor, the centaur archers had been thoroughly distracted by the Seraph forces. Here, the scout was completely focused on him, and he was the only combatant. Fear rooted him to the spot for a moment, and he barely broke out of the trance in time to quickly dodge out of the way of another bullet.
Pull yourself together, Adrien! A ranged enemy didn't have to change his approach. He might get a little more roughed up, but as long as he was alive, that was a price he was willing to pay. Medical facilities were easily accessible in Divinity's Reach.
Bracing himself for the sting of more bullets, he made his way towards the scout. One of the shots dug into his chestplate, but didn't pierce flesh. He wasn't so lucky with the next bullet, which bit into his helm, scratching his cheek. He grimaced, feeling warm, sticky blood trickle down his face, fighting the instinct to flee.
Filled with determination, Adrien gritted his teeth against the pain. He was a few strides away from the bandit. Ranged weapon. It's either you kill them, or disarm them. The choice was simple. With a swing of his greatsword, he brought the bandit to her knees. He didn't know what he hit, but it was enough to leave her helpless. He kicked her pistol away, stomping on the torch to snuff out the flames. He tried to ignore the new bloodstains on his greatsword.
The bandits had retreated by now. Adrien noticed a shaking servant, making his way over. "I heard Faren shouting. Where is he?"
"I saw those ruffians dragging him down the street. They're going to kill him!" They were nearly in hysterics.
"Calm down." Adrien placed a soothing hand on the servant's shoulder. "See to the other guests and make sure no one else has been harmed. I'll go after Faren."
After the servant went to carry out the order, Adrien continued down the street, his footsteps hurried but cautious. If you were a bandit, where would you hide? His search led him to a small, two-storey house. He could hear movement inside. With any luck, this'll be the one.
The door, much to his surprise, was unlocked. It swung open without complaint, revealing a black-haired, female bandit with twin daggers. She was backed by a thug and scout.
"Soon, you'll beg me for death," she smirked, confidence- no, arrogance- clear in her tone. It's a three against one fight, and they don't think I'm anything special, Adrien realized. Time to prove them wrong. I was chosen for a reason, right?
The thug was his primary target. Daggers would struggle to pierce metal, and bullets were less dangerous to him than a sword.
He ran forwards, sweeping his greatsword in a wide arc. It met with the bandit's shield with a loud clang. He quickly swapped to an overhead strike. His hands shook with knowledge of what could happen, causing the angle of his strike to be slightly off. It managed to slice deep into the bandit's shoulder, but that was enough. The thug yelled in pain, letting his sword drop to the floor. By the Six Gods, there's so much blood! Adrien felt like he was about to be sick, judging by the foul taste in the back of his throat. No, pull yourself together, Adrien! Real heroes on the battlefield are surrounded by blood, even covered in it!
He heard the bang of a gunshot at the same time the bandit leader sprang at him. He didn't think, simply slashing at the cutpurse. I killed her, he realized as her body fell to the ground. Oh Gods-
He was snapped back to reality by a sharp pain running down his left arm. "Ah!" Right, I forgot the scout! Pay more attention, Adrien!
He ran forwards, swiping his greatsword into the bandit's side, careful to avoid vital areas. They stumbled, before slipping to the ground, paralyzed.
"A little help here!" Adrien heard a familiar voice shout from upstairs. Rushing upstairs, he quickly freed his friend from the rope bindings. His fingers fumbled with the knots, managing to get them undone with some effort.
"Am I pleased to see you!" Faren exclaimed, rubbing his raw wrists. "Though if you wanted me to leave the party, a 'Begone, freeloader!' would have sufficed."
Adrien couldn't help but chuckle despite his shaking hands and the sickening scent of blood still filling his nose. "Okay, Faren, I'll take note of that. Any idea who those bandits were or what they wanted?"
"Not really." Faren shook his head. "I did hear them discussing a farmhouse in Shaemoor. They were going to lock me up there with the rest of the hostages."
Then I have more work to do. "I can't save you and leave the others. I'm going after them."
"Count me in," Faren replied immediately. "I may not be a centaur-killing berserker like you, but I can take care of myself. I'll meet you there."
Adrien nodded gratefully. He may not be Seraph, but any help is appreciated. "Thank you, Faren."
"Don't mention it, old friend." Faren sauntered off, presumably to prepare. Adrien sheathed his greatsword, his armour evaporating off him like water. He noticed the blood staining his silk shirt, and grimaced. Looks like I get to visit the hospital again…
These were the sacrifices heroes made, he supposed. He'd have to get used to it.