Death. It's far too easy to claim oneself unafraid of the inevitability of life, but when stared in the face by it most who'd claim to be fearless would find themself anything but. Despite the certainty of death, despite the unanimous understanding that one day it would claim all, the fear surrounding it remained. Was it that of the unknown, that the dying or their loved ones couldn't know or comprehend what came next? The uncertainty of whether they'd be reborn or plummet into oblivion, into nothingness. The fear of their loved ones, unsure if they were gone forever or they'd see them again when their time came. The hollowness that followed in the wake of the deceased's absence, the anguish of loss. Perhaps worst of all, the knowledge of leaving behind those one cared for, having so much left unsaid, so many things never done.
And yet, the fear of death seemed so insignificant until it was right in one's face. Despite the knowledge, one might truly be without fear of it until faced with it. "With death comes peace," some might say... it wasn't always true. Peace for some may well be the very last thing on their minds in their final, dying moments. The cold realization of things left unsaid. The hopelessness felt as they watched others die to their left and right on some distant battlefield or within their very home. Or worst of all, the sting of betrayal.
The tragic mixture of rage, sorrow, confusion and disbelief one felt as their closest friends and most trusted comrades turned their weapons upon them. The fear of betrayal, true betrayal, was one even fewer held than of death. The fear that those whom they'd called family or allies would turn their backs on them, and strike them down. A truly terrible thing that none should need fear, suffering a man should never know, yet plenty of the deceased could they speak would lament of. For the notion and elation of "peace" was all but nonexistent for those who'd fallen at the hands of their own loved ones and comrades.
Now, as she lay in a pool of her own blood, wordlessly struck down by her own friends and family, her own sister, team and their sister team, eyes turned skyward as she looked back on that long, winding corridor that was her life, she could only wonder what went wrong. Why had they elected to cut her life so short, why couldn't they even say any last words to her or look her in the eye as they stole her future from her. Was it something she'd done or said? Why could they not at least tell her why she had to die? What had she done wrong?
"Why..." The word played on repeat within her head, drowning out all else. Her hands curled into tight fists, nails digging into the yet undamaged flesh of her palms and drawing blood from yet another spot. Despite the freezing cold chill of death looming upon her, the rage within her heart burned like a fearsome inferno, the emotions and thoughts racing in her head like a raging beast. There was no peace for her in these dying moments, only rage, sorrow, confusion, denial... but above all else, refusal.
"Not yet..." She thought as she pushed herself over, turning her eyes back to the earth before raising them to the forest around her. Teeth stained red with her own blood grit hard enough to crack, the girl mustered all her remaining strength and rage to weakly crawl forth towards the foliage, stubborn in her refusal to die this day. Maybe it would come tomorrow or the next day, but she refused to let their betrayal be her end. Despite her broken bones, despite the darkness shrouding the ends of her vision, the lightheadedness and the crimson blur that was all she saw, she refused to die in what she perceived to be such a pathetic manner... not before she made them pay for their betrayal tenfold.
Though the chill of death froze her from the outside, the fires of rage and her lust for revenge burned hotter, fueling her stubborn determination and refusal to embrace oblivion. The pangs of pain that screamed across her body did nothing to still her, instead used only to fuel her fury, drive her onwards. Even now, weaponless, torn asunder and destined to unrecognizably scar from treason unforgivable, the intensity of the flames within her heart only burned hotter and hotter with each inch she crawled.
"I will not die... not today... not like this!" Teetering on the brink of death yet refusing to yield, she vowed this to herself. She would not come to face oblivion this day, not at their hands. She would not die, not until she'd made them pay for their betrayal. Nothing else mattered now, and if she needed to burn this entire world to the ground just to get to them, then so be it. Come what may, she'd know no rest, not until they all lay dead at her feet. She'd bring their reckoning upon them herself, and nothing in this world, not even death itself, would stop her.
This she swore, and the world would burn before it was all over...
Vermilion Crusade
Though she survived her team and "friends'" betrayal, it had left her scarred, broken, and severely weakened. It was just her luck that she hadn't crossed any Grimm since she'd been struck down, as she highly doubted that even with a weapon she'd be in any state right now to slay even a single weaker beast. In a week, her aura had repaired much of the major damage, albeit the first couple of days were admittedly a blur to her, she couldn't even clearly remember how she went about staunching the bleeding so her aura could repair her before she'd bled out. Still, she could barely do so much a walk without support, and even properly propping herself up on the stick she was using as a walking staff was a struggle. Despite being in her youth and just entering what should've been her prime physical years, she was the weakest she'd ever been.
It wasn't a good start to things, but she knew that she'd eventually regain her strength and enact her retribution upon the traitors. For now, her objective was simply finding somewhere safe to rest up while her body finished recovering from the ordeal she'd survived. If she wasn't still so severely weakened, she imagined that something so simple as finding a shelter would be a simple matter. Alas, she wasn't moving much faster than a crawl, so here she was being forced to learn in a lesson of patience, something she admittedly had little of. It wasn't her strong suit, rather she used to excel at stealing the initiative in the metaphorical race to the finish line for most scenarios. First to the fight, first to strike, first to the finish line.
Nevertheless, the young girl eventually found a stream and elected to follow it, knowing that towns and settlements often made themselves alongside such water sources, being as vital of a resource as water is. Logically she knew that if she were to follow the stream it boasted the greatest chances of leading her to some semblance of civilization, so the decision was an easy one, at least it was after she dropped to her knees beside the water and gulped down as much water as she could hold before refilling her canteen. She'd been out of water for nearly two days, and dehydration was not how she would've preferred to go out, so even if the water didn't lead her to civilization, she was just glad to finally have something to drink after days dry.
"Guh... No idea if this water is even clean... doesn't matter... need... strength..." A fit of coughs escaped her lungs as she spoke, taking a few minutes down to regain some of her miniscule remaining strength. It was a painful cycle, each breath between gulps of water pained and shallow as she knelt under sunlight broken by the dense canopy of branches and leaves above her. Minutes bled by as she lie still, unmoving as she took her last gulp and silently rested, eyes fluttering open every couple of minutes to observe the immediate area around her. It wasn't a long time down, however, as the moment she felt some semblance of strength return to her exhausted body she'd pushed herself back up to her feet, propped up once more against her staff.
A low growl escaped her throat as she pressed herself onward, following the flow of the stream beside her as she drudged along at a slow, unsteady pace. At least, as long as she stayed by the stream, she'd not have to worry about being without water... now she just had to find something to eat, since her last meal was had prior to being betrayed. Her stomach had long since started growling at her something fierce, and to say it was painful was something of an understatement. As far as fasts went, this one was completely undesired, and she wanted to break this fast as soon as possible, preferably with something that had more nutritional value than dirt.
It was still some time around morning when she'd found the stream, but by the time she found something even resembling civilization, it was nearing midnight. Regardless of the time, however, she'd say that she could've done worse, though she also could've done much better. It looked like some sort of small castle, long abandoned and overtaken by nature. Either time had taken it's toll or it was sieged at some point in time, because damage to the walls was plentiful, entire areas had collapsed and the gate was long since destroyed, it's remnants being partway buried beneath debris in the form of smashed stone bricks. The rusted steel bars that the stream ran through led the water to a decently large stone brick pit long since flooded, brimming with algae and other aquatic flora, even a few species of fish taking up a variety of sizes.
The castle wasn't entirely collapsed, however, as the main structure within the castle seemed to still be intact, holding strong despite quite possibly hundreds or thousands of years of neglect. A closer observation showed that the inside was still mostly intact, a couple cave-ins notwithstanding, and even a few rooms she assumed must've at one point been a barracks of a sort remained undamaged... relatively speaking. A bit of smashed stonework and furniture here and there but nothing particularly special in that regard. There was even a room with an intact bed, albeit the bedding long since gone, taken by the winds of time, so she supposed it was more of just an intact frame than anything else. Still, she could manage to cobble some comfortable bedding from the foliage around her, albeit she doubted she'd use the frame.
"Ah... this place seems secure... enough. I can rest up here... worry about food in the morn." She breathed out heavily, dragging a fair amount of foliage behind herself with notable difficulty. Nevertheless, she managed to lay it out across the floor, as draping it across just the frame of the bed she imagined would be rather uncomfortable, and slowly lowered herself down upon the makeshift bedding. With just how exhausting the journey here was, she found it rather easy to find sleep regardless of the bedding doing rather little to improve her comfort...
Morning came with the usual cramps in her back following a loud yawn piercing the emptiness of the castle. A proper night's rest and proper hydration allowed her aura to do it's work more proper-like, although from the lack of food she still felt quite weak. Nevertheless, she did feel stronger now, strong enough that she didn't necessarily need her staff anymore, she just kept it now to help retrain proper posture and keep her diminishing limp in check. It was a good feeling, that of her strength returning to her, even if slowly. She knew that getting a proper meal in would greatly help with the healing process, since aura acted more like an accelerant than something like a potion in a fantasy world. One's body still needed the nutrients and the sort to fuel and heal, proteins and the sort, all natural, science-y stuff she didn't have a perfect understanding of yet got the gist of nonetheless.
Stretching her weary limbs, she picked herself up and exited the room, opting to examine the ruins a little closer before she did anything else. A quicker process now than it would've been before she got the full night's rest, but still by no means anywhere close to as fast as she would've liked. An overall rewarding experience, as she'd not only found a steel longsword in decent condition (considering hundreds of years of neglect), but a pair of steel gauntlets, greaves, pauldrons, a breastplate all of the gothic variety and visored barbuta helmet. They were all in good condition all things considered, but as she still lacked a majority of her strength, she opted to merely organize the armor and keep only the longsword on hand for the immediate moment.
She intended to clean up and scrape the rust off the items in due time, but first she needed a meal to speed up the reclamation of her strength. To this end, she first approached the small pond covered by a rusted steel grate so as to be easily walked over. A fair number of fish were visible, all of them she identified as safe to eat, albeit after some prep, prep she could quite easily square away. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world to catch some fish, as they remained more than a little elusive, but she eventually managed to, after cleaning up the tip of her longsword and scraping the rust off, impale a pair of decently sized salmon. It brought a grin to her face, but also a few pangs of sorrow as she thought back to her team, rather one of her teammates to be more specific. Her grin swiftly morphed into a twisted, furious snarl with a low, guteral growl emerging from her throat.
"When I get my hands on her... I will nail her hands and feet down and crucify her... and I'll tear those stupid ears off her head... before I slit open her gut and leave her to die in agony... mirror the wound she gave me!" She spat out the last part, her voice dripping with malice and inflection revealing her hatred. She was lucky her guts hadn't spilled out, as the slash from her blade was just enough to allow such a thing to occur. It was the first thing she focused her aura on healing, so that injury wasn't present long, but the scar from it, like the many other wounds she'd suffered, would last for all her life. Yet another permanent reminder of their treason.
She seethed for a score of minutes before finally recollecting herself, standing upright and looking for some dry wood and something to use as a spit. She didn't have to look far, as there was a fair number of dry, broken branches littered across the ground, plenty of smaller leaves and the sort, all dried up and ready to be used as kindling, and she found a decently long and thick stick to use as a spit for the fish. A slight chuckle escaped her lips as she set it all up, lighting the flame with ease after propping up the stick impaling the salmon on either side of the fire with stacked rocks, cooking each one individually after having prepared both of them back to back and disposing of the waste.
Even without any spices or anything to go with them, the salmon were the first things she'd eaten other than grass and leaves since her betrayal, and filled her up rightly, leading her to just kick back for a little bit in her room (where she'd also cooked the salmon). Until she felt strong enough to stand properly, her plan was to keep activity to a minimum so all her energy could go towards finishing the healing process and regaining lost strength. A slow process, perhaps, but despite her hatred of just sitting around doing nothing, she supposed that there really was no better thing she could be doing right now, so she just laid back, and relaxed...
She'd ended up falling asleep in her relaxation, but awakened around midnight from the crack of lightning outside, jolting her awake and immediately putting her on guard as it almost sounded like a gunshot. She knew it wasn't, but she couldn't help but remain on edge, even as the storm continued to boom from beyond the walls, and lightning continued to cackle through the air, screaming it's deadly song with every strike. Suboptimal, but a quick look outside showed the world drowned out in darkness, the veil of midnight looming overhead with the storm merely present to wrack the land and continue the cycle of life.
A sigh escaped her lips as she drudged back inside, her limp noticeably absent and a majority of her strength returned to her as she made her way through darkened corridors barely lit from the breaches in the walls and ceilings that let light from the outside bleed inside. As much as she felt that she'd spent enough time here, she also knew that this would be a good fallback position, or a good hideout otherwise. Sure, it would require some renovations but she was never one to shy away from hard work, and at the end of the day, she REALLY didn't want her survival to get known. If that were to happen, she'd have to let he justice system handle their punishment, as they'd prevent her from getting her retribution.
"Tch. Worthless... those bastards betrayed me! Tried to kill me! It's only through sheer stubbornness that I didn't die that day, yet Kingdom's so-called "Justice" would see them given little more than a slap on the wrist, and the princess could just use daddy's wallet to get her out of trouble! Where's the justice in THAT?!." The lass roared, enraged at the thought that the traitors would inevitably get off Scott free were the Department of Justice to handle their punishment. No, she couldn't let anyone think she was still alive. Best to let them think her dead until her time came to strike, catch them completely off guard. She'd ensure they didn't know peace in death.
However, until then, she'd have to keep a relatively low profile, and if ever caught on camera, she'd have to be careful not to use her semblance, as that'd easily give her identity away. As far as her face went, however, she supposed she could hide it behind the mask of the barbuta helmet she'd acquired. Longsword and plate armor, a combination long since proven time and time again. A timeless classic that'd never fall out of style among the world's greatest warriors. She wasn't particularly learned in the usage of either heavy armor or a longsword, but the latter was the first weapon all Hunters in Training learned the basics of, and likewise they'd all received a modicum of training in each weight class of armor.
Tentatively, she discarded the most ruined of her surviving clothes and threw each piece of armor on, groaning a little at just how uncomfortable the rusted steel was upon exposed skin but sucked it up as she slid the helmet over her head. It narrowed her field of view quite considerably, but she could work with it. She just supposed she'd have to upgrade her armor and weapon as time went on, and by all means not swap back to anything like her old one, as that could give her away rather handily as well. Of course, as far as "upgrades" went, she was leaning more on replacement than anything else. She doubted the steel's strength was carried through the ages, and doubted it would protect her from claw, fang or blade as well as it would've back when it's original owner was alive. Would it still protect her from some strikes? Undoubtedly, but the steel was old, rusted and weathered.
Nevertheless, she could only really think about all of it for now, less she could do. With the storm raging outside, she was effectively a walking lightning rod carrying all this steel on her, so opted to just wait out the storm, and sleep through the night...
She reckoned the storm must've cleared up around 6 or 7 AM, and after spending another hour or so impaling, prepping, cooking and eating a few more salmon, she made a mental note of the castle's location through terrain association, noting an almost spire-like rock formation maybe a kilometer southwest and a long exploded and extinct volcano another two or maybe three northeast of the castle. The two features, if one were to go to either, would be a straight-shot to the other with the castle directly between both of them. Even if the castle was hidden by the forest and likely invisible from either point, she at least knew where it was now, and knew she could return whenever she needed to.
With a slight grin, and a bit of a pep in her step, she rested her old, rusty blade over her shoulder, and made way for the nearest town, Axenburg if she remembered correctly. The only reason she had any idea where she was now was because of the two terrain features she'd identified, and remembered there was a decently large town just fifteen or so kilometers west of the spire, tucked into cutout in a cliff face seated alongside a large river. It wasn't too long of a walk she supposed, and it was a journey she could likely make within just a few hours of trekking... and with most of her strength returned to her, she imagined that catching any prey she found along the way there wouldn't be a complicated matter, make a quick meal should the need arise...
She ended up closing the distance rather quickly, but furrowed her brow upon taking in the hectic sight before her. A Grimm attack, nothing too crazy, just a pack of Beowulves, some Ursa and Boarbatusks, and a few smaller deathstalkers, not even remotely near the size of the one they'd battled in their initiation. Still, she wasn't using a weapon she had much mastery in, and this armor made some of her normal acrobatics impossible, not even getting into the fact that she wasn't yet completely recovered. Mostly, yes, but complete recovery wouldn't be for some time, she imagined. Normally a battle such as this would be of fairly little concern, any one or two hunters could handle odds like this with fairly little difficulty, but this battle was notably absent of hunters, putting the town in a VERY dire situation.
Even if she'd be fighting at a disadvantage, she was a Huntress, in training and at a disadvantage or not, she had a duty to uphold, and she'd see her duty through to the bitter end. Bearing in mind her disadvantages and careful not to activate her semblance, she rushed into the fray, brandishing her blade in both hands as she slammed shoulder-first into the side of a Beowulf, staggering it and throwing it's strike meant to rend a civilian caught up in the action in two off course, clawing instead into a wooden beam. Before it could recover, she slashed upwards diagonally, decapitating it with fairly little trouble before turning to the next target.
She immediately forced the blade down back behind her shoulder, locking against a clawed hand sweeping for her midsection before pushing it back, pivoting the blade around as she turned and delivering a heavy overhead slash, bisecting it diagonally from shoulder to waist. Eyes left to the next foe, she shifted her longsword upside down to push down on the next strike from another Beowulf, positioning it rightly for her to spin around and impale it through the chest in one swift, fluid motion. Shoulder-checking the beast off her blade, she found her mistake as another Beowulf lunged in on the opening, scoring a successful swipe against her left pauldron and pulling her into the strike.
Acting swiftly, she took a lunging step with her left foot as she was struck, shifting her body into the strike and pivoting on her heels, shifting her right foot back as she turned the blade and slammed back, bashing the pommel into the beast's jaw and making it recoil before bisecting it with a heavy horizontal slash. A flurry of gunfire sailed around her, cutting down a handful of Grimm beasts that had surrounded her before they could strike and giving her a moment to recover, catch her breath. It looked to her as if her little distraction had been enough to free up some of the town guard, spreading a widening smirk across her mouth as she seemed to be the one allowing a counterattack. Flourishing her blade, she looked left and right for the next notable battle, picking out a trio of boarbatusks barreling towards a group of defenders.
Acting fast, she rushed over to the scene, grasping a plastic jerry can along the way before tossing it at the Grimm at the far end of the trio, crashing shoulder-first into their spinning sides and taking them all down together before rolling over her own shoulder for a quick recovery, slashing the jerry can open as she came up and bounded away from the trio of Grimm. As she turned to face them, she noted them immediately start turning to prioritize her, spinning as they prepared to rush her like they had the others. However, slamming the edge of her blade upon the cobblestone path beneath them, she scraped the blade forward as fast and hard as she could manage, sending a shower of sparks into the grim and igniting the gas still spilling out of the jerry can, detonating it and blasting the Grimm to smithereens as she lunged down to the side, rolling over her left shoulder as she came up to a knee.
Noting an Ursa bearing down upon her, she leaned right while shifting to an underhanded grip in both hands, gritting her teeth anxiously as the massive paw swiped across her with a glancing blow, she shot herself upright with all the strength she could push with in her legs, driving the pommel into the Ursa's exposed nose and forcing it to recoil. Using the break in it's defenses, the girl sidestepped left to avoid a blind swipe from it's other paw, turning and driving her blade through it's abdomen with little difficulty. Ripping the blade out, the lass lunged forward to dodge another strike meant for her from the collapsing beast, hissing slightly as the claws raked along the back of her breastplate before turning on a dime and pouncing upwards and stabbing down on the beast's back in a soft spot. A simple twist and pull was all that was needed to silence the beast, and with the momentary respite, she swapped out of her underhanded grip to a more normal one.
A glance back to the town defenders showed them to be mostly recollected, pushing out once again from the center of town and finally driving their mutual enemies back with markedly less struggle than before. A small chuckle left her as the smaller deathstalkers met their ends under a hail of gunfire, driving off some of the last few Grimm attacking the town. At the current rate, the town seemed more than capable enough in repelling the Grimm, they just needed a little support, and that support was her. However, with the battle for their very survival back in their hands, she was given a moment's respite from the fighting, allowing her to properly assess the situation and look for any variables that might throw the battle out of their favor.
Alas, no such variable showed itself, allowing her to rest her blade for the remainder of this battle as the town guard steadily pushed back the few remaining Grimm beasts. Had she done much? As far as a Hunter's contribution went, no. No she hadn't done much, merely gave the town enough breathing room to muster a proper counterattack. She could feel that quite possibly none of the townsfolk had their auras unlocked, and those few that did were of lower quantity, weaker stock. A singular Grimm beast could tear through several guards before they'd go down, especially given that likely none of them had any proper training, and likely didn't even have enough ammo to spare for target practice. It wasn't an uncommon situation for towns this far out from major cities to be in.
Still, she'd done her part, single-handedly slaying a fair number of beasts, just enough done to bring hope back to a desperate situation and give enough of a break in the fighting for the remaining defenders to exploit. Still, even if it was well in their hands now, she rose up from a knee and began her stride back into the fray, but halted just meters from where she'd risen.
"Those whom I'd called "friend" cut me down without a word. Can I really trust these people won't shoot me in the back as soon as the fighting's done and I'm at my weakest?" The thoughts of doubt and possible betrayal lingered in her mind, falling back to that fateful day a week ago where her own comrades turned their weapons on her from behind. "If I leave now, many more of the townsfolk will surely perish in the fighting, but it'll ensure they've not the chance to betray me. If I stay but do not act, should the survivors who remain after the battle elect to turn their weapons upon me next, I'll still have the strength to destroy them for their betrayal..."
"Move up, everyone! Follow the example the Knight set for us!" Her head turned left to the source of the yelling, noting a young boy of red hair and green eyes, not even clad in armor and merely brandishing an old antique of an arming sword, likely passed down for generations... not that her own was in any better condition. Her own blade was practically an ancient relic compared to his own, likely far inferior, too. And yet, this boy, and now maybe two dozen boys and girls around his age, she'd guess all between 16 to 21, charged in to follow her into battle, regardless of their probably lack of any training or experience...
"If I stay and fight, there will most likely be far fewer casualties... but if they decide to turn on me after the battle, I don't know if I'll be able to hold my own against so many opponents, difference in training and experience or not..." Her gaze fell to the floor, shutting hard as she tried to come to an answer within her head. Run, stay and watch, or stand and fight? The answer should've been obvious, but if she couldn't even trust her closest friends and comrades to not stab her in the back, both literally and metaphorically in her case, how could she possibly trust these strangers? How could she trust anyone?
A deep sigh escaped her lips as the sound of their footfalls drew closer and closer, knowing she had to make a choice here and now. There was no more time to deliberate, now she had to decide. Would she play it safe, or put everything on the line trusting these strangers? Even if she'd clearly inspired and instilled hope into them, she knew she couldn't trust them, but did that really justify letting so many of them die when she could've done something? Gritting her teeth, she could only tighten her grip upon her blade as her head rose to observe both sides of the battle. The Grimm were still numerous, albeit not so numerous that the town couldn't survive without her help. It was her look back to the young men and women who'd been inspired by her own actions, however that solidified her decision.
Fear. Terror. Uncertainty and desperation. These were just some scared, innocent people who'd opted to take a stand, knowing they'd likely die for it, just so they could follow her example. Even if she still ran the risk of having a dagger planted in her back at the end of it all, that much was enough for her. Flourishing her blade as she removed her left hand from the handle of the sword, she held an open palm back to the townsfolk, signaling them to stop where they were so she could handle it from here.
Without a word, the girl charged back into the largest regrouping mass of Grimm, resuming a deadly dance of death she was all too familiar with. Though unpracticed in the use of blade and armor, she understood enough from her paltry training to use the both of them somewhat effectively, angling her armor against any attacks she couldn't dodge, deflect or block and using her blade to slash, parry and counter her way through a mob of claws, fangs and tusks. If she had a more familiar weapon like her old one, this horde would've been destroyed in seconds, but the simple truth was that she lacked any such weapon, so the process of horde-clearing was much slower and less efficient than it would've otherwise been, and she took far more hits than she would've preferred.
Still, her armor held out until the very end. Fresh battle scars marked the rusted steel plates, joined to the same ones once hidden by centuries of rust buildup knocked off through battle. And yet, the plate held strong for her just as it once had centuries ago for whoever it was made for. Sure, it was weakened, but still faithful to it's wearer, bringing a slight smile to her face.
As the last beast was felled by her blade, she turned her gaze back over her shoulder to the townsfolk, all of whom had gathered to rejoice for their savior. Some fell to their knees and wept, others leapt and shouted while some went so far as to sing her praise. "The Savior of Axenburg" they called her... she didn't know how to feel about that title. Sure, she saved a few lives, but that hardly made her a savior, especially not against a relatively small Grimm attack such as this one. Although, she supposed these people, being that this attack would've wiped them out without her intervention, the title of "savior" might've seemed appropriate.
"E-excuse me, Miss?" The voice came from a thin but tall blonde boy around her own age, putting her on guard slightly as he approached, holding a bundle of vermilion fabric in his arms. She had no idea if he was unarmed or if he was hiding a blade within that fabric, so presented herself in a guarded, defensive posture as he approached. It seemed he understood her body language, as he halted a few paces from her, just out of lunging distance with her sword as he knelt down and set the bundle of fabric against the cobblestone floor beneath them. "Y-you looked like you might be cold... y-y'know, since you got all that armor but basically no clothes..."
He couldn't see it, but her face went beet red with the comment as she only needed look down to see that the only real things remaining to give her some semblance of modesty aside from the armor was some tattered rags that basically covered up nothing, her mud-stained boots and her mostly intact lingerie. As soon as the bundle of cloth was on the ground and the boy had backed away, she lunged forward and collected the clothing before sprinting away behind some rubble to give her some privacy while she changed.
She ensured to lay it all out before taking off her armor to change, identifying a pair of black cargo pants, stockings, some long brown leather gloves, a grey long-sleeve button-up shirt with a collar, and of course the vermilion cloak. The gloves were honestly a godsend, as having the rusty steel against her skin was notably uncomfortable, and after a few short minutes, she'd fully changed into the new clothes and thrown her armor over the clothing, finishing by pinning the cloak together and laying the hood back, giving her a more familiar and comfortable appearance.
Stepping out from the ruins, she saw the townsfolk beckoning for her to come their way. Though part of her wanted to join them, possibly get a proper meal for once, she just shook her head and started back for the forest. She'd garnered too much attention here, and knew she couldn't risk being among so many that were paying such close attention to her every move. So, with a lamenting sigh, she turned back towards the forest, and began her trek to the next town.
"Wait!" She halted as the same boy from earlier called to her, this time running up with an old leather satchel, seemingly filled to the brim. He halted at the same distance as before, panting somewhat as he set the bag down and opened it up for her. "I- hah- gathered- hah- all the- hah- essentials... I could... find... I thought you might benefit from this stuff in further journeys."
A quick glance allowed her to near instantly identify several items she'd get plenty of use out of: A couple regional map, compact foldable cooking kit with utensils, flint & steel, a multitool, a maintenance kit for blade and armor, a flashlight, a buck knife, spare batteries, a decent bit of lien, a full canteen, a couple bags of dried meats, and the best of all of it, a telescopic fishing rod with all the essentials. There was also a paper slip with what looked to be crossed chains wrapping around the front and back of a shield with a sword pointed downwards in front of the shield but behind the chains. There was also a black cloak neatly wrapped up inside the satchel alongside with everything else, which took up a majority of the bulk.
"That paper slip is a voucher for my father's ironworks. Present this to him whenever, he'll make you a new suit of armor and a new sword. I kinda got from the first time I approached you that you must not like people or crowds getting close, so this way, and with the black cloak, you can slip into town later unrecognized. Please, it's the least we can do for you saving us." His information came as more of a whisper, taking her off guard with the generous offer. Even if she knew she couldn't trust him any closer than she could reach with a sword, it was the upgrade she was hoping for... she knew as well it might may be too good to be true.
Merely nodding as he stepped back before collecting the satchel, she decided she'd return in a few days, maybe a week to cash in on that offer or see if it wasn't just a trap. A black cloak would go a long ways as a disguise, being that it was only the vermilion one the rest of the town had seen or knew about aside from this lad. So, after slinging the satchel over her shoulder, she gave a quick nod to say goodbye to the townsfolk, and made her way back to her castle to plot her next moves...