I sit down at the table in the inn I had paid for a room in, sighing deeply and laying my leather helmet on the table, my stunted Elf ears thankful for their newfound freedom, it had been a long ride, and my ass was sore, I'd been in the saddle for a long, long time, I'd gotten up this morning, starting riding, and passed three large cities, now I wanted a drink, some food, and to sleep, then I'll get up in the morning, and start riding again.

I gave the bartender a little glance with ice blue hues, which he caught, gave a little nod, and went to the cellar for the bottle of mead I'd just ordered (it's all they had, so I'd no choice.). I leaned back in the chair, kicking my feet up on the table, entangling my fingers behind my head, which was cloaked in short raven black hair, I looked around me, my eyes catching a few silhouettes huddled in the flickering light of the candles lit more centrally, likely town drunks, burying their problems with liquor, and creating new ones through such an act of shameless intoxication. Although I'm sure not much better can be said for me, I'm a woman, in the year 1342, in a bar, without a man accompanying me, in such "scandalous" clothes as hunting and traveling gear, they aren't even that bad, the black under-fabric covers my arms, legs, most of the exposed torso, and half way up my neck, besides the under-fabric, there was a sort of chain mail skirt, a leather corset thing, which I kept pretty loose, it worked well as protection, rather than those fashions of the British, then there were my boots, helmet, gloves, and the occasional shin guard or shoulder pad, essentially, I was protected and I was covered, completely decent, but apparently that still wasn't lady like and counted me as a whore, but whomever's thoughts those are, I care not, my traveling companion doesn't care, they're a horse, of course, what horse would care for how you dress.

The bartender came back with the bottle and a tankard, I glanced up at him with a thanking look, as soon as I did so our eyes met, he was a young Latino boy, brown hair, darker skin, but the most strikingly dark brown eyes I've ever seen, he was quite a handsome young man, I gave him a little smile, but went straight for the mead, popping the cork and pouring myself a glass, the boy almost seemed to reel back in shock,  I ignored it, he must not have realized I was a woman, I have the hair of a man, and am quite flat chested, so it would be difficult to tell me from a man, he seemed to rush back to the counter, I just went on to the mead, chuckling a little to myself, men are always the best to shock, they always reel back like that, at least the ones I've seen.

I finished the tankard up, setting it down, pulling a few silver pieces out of my pocket, and smacking them down on the table, before standing up, and headed to rent a room, snatching my helmet beforehand, all eyes on the inn on me. I gave the bartender another little look, set a small pouch of silver on the counter, and headed for the room I'd silently rented, I got up the ladder, went over to the bed, separated from the others by only a curtain, just the same as every other inn around, I lay my helmet beside the bed, plopped down into the welcoming animal skins, straw, and sheet that passes as a blanket, soon enough falling into a slumber.

~•~(six hours later)~•~

Play the song till the end, it adds to the chapter in my opinion.

I awoke to a loud crash and some yelling, I shot straight up in bed, looking around quickly, I snatched my helmet up, threw my feet over the side of the bed, and drew my Shortsword, quickly making my way to the ladder, I peeked over the edge, and I was met with the sight of ten men, each in matte black armour, a crest on each of their shoulders, it was red, with two spears crossed over it, a yellow star above the cross of the spears, and a few other details I couldn't see for I was so far away, they had the Latino boy on the floor, shaking in fear.

God dammit, kid. I thought, he just had to do this, didn't he? That crest was of the Lancini family, reputable bandits, I've had my own run in with them, once or twice, but I didn't want another, they'd put my travels on hold because they'd hurt me so bad, but I got away and killed the attackers, I'd just only had one wish from that day, "Don't ever have another fight with them.". Of course the day I'm far away from any town, with no guards, no backup, only my sword, and this useless little scrap of skin and bones, and of course, being the "good guy" I am, I'm gonna have to help him.

I growl softly, swiftly slipping down the ladder, making not a single sound, I crept around in the shadows, keeping low to the floor, with my sword ready, the blade only glinting barely in the occasional ray of moonlight, or candle flicker. They bandits had their backs to the bar counter, they were searching the rooms on the first floor, for money, or alcohol, I've no idea, all I know, is I'm getting up on that counter, getting their attention, and going after them.

I check to make sure none of them are paying attention, before slipping onto the counter, I saw none of them had a projectile of any sort, I'm quite surprised they hadn't killed the boy, but who cares, I rise to my full height, readying my sword, and standing with my feet spread perfectly into a fighting stance.

I then took a deep, quiet inhale, and let my words fly for the first time I had in awhile. "Why, you boys really can't count yourselves as bandits if you don't notice a killer creep down the stair, can you?" All their heads shot up and over to my figure, all in unison they drew their weapons looking almost completely confused, I chuckled darkly, "Scared? You shouldn't be, really," I say, the lie clear, why do I find it necessary to lie to scare people? Whatever the reason, it works, and usually runs people off, but these guys know they're strong, and outnumber me, although, they're brutes, and wouldn't realize that if they threatened the boy's life, I would drop my weapon, and give them what they want, but they're idiots, and wouldn't do that.

Three or four with swords take a step towards me, my eyes catch a ray of moonlight, and in the mix of black, and polished brown leather, there was a shine of blue, I clicked my tongue, reaching my idle hand into a pouch I often kept money or other essentials in, this one held some Naga Viper pepper, powdered for protection, I grabbed a handful,  blowing the dust at the men who'd just taken steps closer to me, as soon as the powder hit their nostrils and mucous membranes of the face, they started coughing, all actually letting out shaky cries, of course, they would, it's one of the hottest peppers in the world, and once this stuff gets anywhere open, it will  hurt.

They all fell to the floor, coughing, drooling, sniffling, and shedding tears in a way to attempt ridding their eyes of the powder, their comrades gave them looks with wide eyes, they must not be able to guess what just happened, and they all take a step away from the boy, closer to the door, I snickered, making some of them shake, a show of power; or maybe "witchcraft"; can do it, that can send humans running for the hills.

"Afraid of little ol' me?" I question, flaunting my blade, to which three of the six left shook their heads' and scrambled for the door, struggling a little with their knives in their rush to get out, they must've thought I was a witch or something for that. The three remaining stood their ground, while the four on the floor where trying to crawl out to the door, struggling with their coughing.

I put my blade up, as if inviting them to take a swing. "Step up, boys. One at a time. Try to hurt the mysterious stranger." I ordered, ignoring instruction, all three charged, two with maces and another with a battle ax, the two with the maces reeled up to swing, and as they did, I dodged to the side, and took a swift swing at the throat of one, barely cutting his cheek, he hissed in pain, and I reeled back, they both got their maces stuck in the wooden counter. Figures.

Quickly I had my sword at the ready, and I was down on their level, a slight disadvantage, but now I could move around on more of a surface than what the bar counter was, and that gave me a better fight.

The one I had cut removed his hands from his mace, and reached for a dagger he had on his hilt, the second tried to remove it from the sturdy wood, while the third with the ax lifted his weapon above his head, ready to bring it down on me, he's first of his comrades to make a move, for the injured one had taken a while to regain the entire situation, and the second was taking his time of removing his mace, so the third one had first move in avenging his injured; or cowardly; friends.

He allowed his ax take the plunge towards me, it was quickly brought down on my figure, although; as I had now enough time to respond; I dodged to the side just a few seconds before it would have killed me. His ax now stuck to the floor, he began tugging at it to try and loosen it from the wood, soon realizing it was a lost cause and-HOLY SHIT, THERE'S THE OTHER ONE. Was the only thought to cross my mind as the other came at me with his dagger, swiftly taking swipes and slashes, with a lighter weapon he's a lot more nimble, I jump back a few steps, to which he advances, the one who used to have the battle ax now drew a blade, while the other idiot still trying to remove his battle ax continued his work.

I now had two swift-moving opponents, and another who would soon have his mace freed, this was not good, I looked around frantically, I needed something, anything. But I saw nothing.

Wait a second, did I really just see nothing? Wasn't the Latino boy there a few seconds ago? Where the hell did he go?!

As I'm distracted they knock me over, I kick out, a feeble attempt at freedom, but it's no use, the second with a dagger pinned my shoulder to the floor with his foot, I let out a feeble cry of pain, God dammit, this is not how it's gonna end. I think to myself, but the first with the knife kneels down and puts the knife to my chest right where my heart is, I kick out again, making him a little unbalanced, but not much.

He called for the other guy with the mace, who let go of his weapon and came over. "Hold her legs down, Jackson, you imbecile." The one with the mace was ordered, he did so, the one with the knife pressed it down into the fragile dried cow skin of the corset, it digs in a little but not enough to kill me just yet, he then raises it up, about to bring it down on me, with what will soon be my death weapon, I scream in both fury, and fear, hoping to get anyone's attention, I can't get to anything, I'm going to die, that's how this will end, that's not how I want it to, but they're going to kill me, damn them.

Then the man with the knife sends the knife plunging towards my chest, in the time of two seconds, I'll be dead, really dead, gone for good, no faking this one, I'll be done, I send out a silent prayer to any gods I can think of, "Kill these men, do it for me, do it for the sake of your people." Is my one request, he's just a few inches away before,

Clang.

Then he fell forward, dropping the dagger halfway, and revealing the Latino boy stood behind him with a frying pan. I don't take my moment of freedom for granted, kicking away the two others, and standing up. I kick the one who was holding my arms down onto his back, while I take more pepper powder and throw it at the one who'd been holding my feet, he fell into a coughing fit, and the other hit his head on a chair. I took a moment of grateful panting, "I said not to be afraid..." I coughed, not able to finish my sentence, that powder really does work wonders. "...Of me..."

"An-Antonio, my name's A-Antonio," the little Latino boy panted.

The boy then fainted, what the hell, I knew everyone else were weaklings, but that's just pathetic. I kicked the one still conscious thug in the gut, making his coughing fit more violent, good, that's what you get.