Yvonne Lafaille
The man’s eyes bulged and a sharp groan escaped from his lips. Held to the cobblestone wall behind the tavern, he didn’t have the strength or the chance to wrestle himself free of his assailants before the clenched fist once again slammed into his belly. The harsh blow crushed his lungs, chasing the air out from his throat and leaving his gasping for a breath. He could feel the tears beginning to burn in the corners of his eyes, the moisture causing the dark alley around him to appear blurry and indistinguishable in the moonlight.
“Look...please...I don’t have the money.”
A derisive snort echoed from one of the three hazy figures surrounding him: it was the one which had delivered the last blow, not one of the pair which kept his arms pinned to the wall. Their victim - a guard who had up until recently been hired to protect some of the caravans travelling to-and-from the city - felt his chest tighten as his pleas were once again ignored. A hint of desperation began to enter into his raspy voice.
“I had a job, ok. I was going to pay you as soon as I got back, but then the whole lot of us got this accursed sickness and -”
A sudden, unexpected blow to the face shut the guardsman up in an instance, sending a flash of stars across his vision. There was a fresh taste of iron in his mouth, and he was almost certain that one of his teeth had finally become dislodged from its roots.
“I don’t fuckin’ care about you’re excuses, you hear?”
The aggressor hissed, leaning in close to his dazed victim. He was clearly the leader of the trio that had cornered the indebted guard, his two lackey having remained effectively silent throughout the encounter. His eyes were a deep blue, and he had the physique of someone who was no stranger to a fight. Blinking away a drop of blood that threatened to mix with his tears, the guardsmen found himself staring into the man’s leering face as it leaned in close to his own. A snake tattoo wormed its way across the man’s bald scalp, twisting its way across his cheek until it disappeared into the neckline of his shirt. His eyes glowered menacingly, unblinking as they bore into the guardsmen’s own pained expression.
“I’m getting real tired of waiting for what’s mine. There ‘as to be consequences for your actions or you’ll never learn.”
Gulping, the guardsman forced himself to respond, although the effort sent a numb pain echoing through his chest. “One more week...please. That’s all I need, Robert, then I’ll pay you back in full.”
Leering, Robert jabbed a fat finger into the guardsman’s chest. “You’ll do more than pay me back in full, mate. You’re going to pay me and the boys back in full with interest. Otherwise it’s not just you who’ll end up as a sack of broken bones.”
A confused expression flashed across the guardsman’s face, his mind slowly processing the threat through the haze of pains and aches until his eyes began to grow wide in horror. “No!” He immediately began thrashing, the pair of thugs holding him down suddenly having to redouble their efforts as the man seemed to find a new reservoir of energy. The attempt was ultimately in vain, however, but that didn’t stop the guardsman from trying. “You piece of shit, you lay one hand on Constance then I’ll…!”
“You’ll what, bruv’?” Robert sneered, a twisted smile etched onto his features as the guardsman’s voice trailed off, a sickening sense of powerlessness crashing down over him.
“You can’t! I’m the one who bet that money, I’m the one who lost, leave her out of this Robert, for fuck’s sake, please leave her out of this. I’ll do whatever you want, alright?” The pleas were becoming increasingly desperate, the guardsman having been reduced to a quivering wreck as the last of his strength began to retreat from his body. Robert was enjoying every moment of it, relishing the feeling of dominance and his much-deserved vengeance. He knew that there was no way that the guard would ever be able to find the money he was owed, but that didn’t matter to him. Robert would give him another week to struggle in vain, and then inevitably pay him and his missus a visit to set an example for all the others who owed him coin.
“What’s going on here?”
All four of the men whipped around to look towards the feminine voice, caught off-guards by the appearance of a stranger. Robert had already twisted his expression into an irritated scowl.
“None of your goddamn busi...ness...” The thug’s voice trailed off as his eyes came to rest on the well-built figure now standing at the alley’s entrance, her arms folded sternly across her chest. The moonlight reflected off the thin layer of chainmail that still hung over her chest, although it seemed to be a design intended to be worn under a heavier set of armour. Suddenly acting more cautious, Robert’s eyes scanned the woman until they fell upon the Divine sigil that adorned the tunic over her chest.
Shit.
Breaking into a smile, Robert’s whole demeanour changed as he opened his arms in an effort to put the Paladin at ease. “Pardon my language ma’am, I didn’t mean to disrespect a traveller such as yourself. Me and the lads ‘ere just had a little disagreement. Nothin’ that can’t be sorted out between us gents.” He turned to glare at the guardsman, the battered man struggling to remain conscious. “Ain’t that right?”
The pair of thugs holding down their victim nodded eagerly, quickly taking on from their leader’s cure. Yvonne raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. One of the men elbowed the guardsman in the chest, the stab of pain causing him to wince. Forcing himself to look up, he met the level gaze of the armoured woman with his own, a slight smile pushing itself onto his features in an attempt to allay any of her concerns. However, his eyes desperately tried to cry out for help.
Seeing the man’s battered and bruised face, one of his eyes nearly having been swollen shut and a trail of blood trickling down from his nose and lip, Yvonne immediately stiffened her stance. It certainly didn’t look like nothing was going on to her.
“Let this man go at once. Whatever dispute with him that you may have, it is a matter for the local justices and the guards.” Yvonne’s voice was stern and commanding, sounding just as stubborn as her stance.
Robert’s eyes narrowed and he turned to properly face the uninvited guest. “Look girl, it seems to me like you’re new around here so I’ll cut you some slack, but this dispute don’t involve you. We don’t like outsiders sticking their noses where they don’t belong. I think it’d be best if you just run along and forgot you even saw us.” His voice lowered as he made to unsheath a blade from his belt, having noted that the woman was unarmed herself. “Wouldn’t want for things to get ugly, especially with that pretty face of yours.”
In the dark alley, and feeling confident with his chances, Robert never expected the woman to rush straight towards her armoured opponent without any additional warning. He didn’t have a chance to react to the fist that she swung straight towards his face, but he certainly felt it as the powerful impact exploded into his nose. Robert’s neck whipped around from the blow, his nose twisting and contorting as a splatter of blood sprayed out across his cheek. Knocked backwards on his feet, and knocked out cold in an instant, Robert’s eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed onto the cold pavement.
Silence descended on the alley, thugs and guardsman alike stunned by what had just transpired. Robert’s hired muscle glanced warily at each other, each uncertain of how to proceed with their boss now lying unconscious in a growing pool of his own blood. Yvonne glared at them, her eyes unflinching as the silence drew out for a few nervous seconds.
“Release that man at once.” The thugs seemed to hesitate, glancing warily at each other. What would happen if Robert found out when he woke? Yvonne felt herself becoming increasingly impatient. “Do it now, or you will find yourselves waking up in the local justice’s office with the worst headaches of your lives.”
With the implicit threat of imminent pain and legal punishment, all thoughts of loyalty from the thugs’ heads. As if with one mind, they both suddenly released the guardsman and began to race down the alleyway, running desperately away from the armoured figure who stood before them. The guardsman immediately fell to the floor, his weakened legs unable to hold up his own weight as his body was wracked by coughs.
“Th-thank you.” He muttered through gasped breaths.
Yvonne watched the thugs make their escape for a few moments before sighing to herself, knowing that there was little point in trying to chase after them. Crouching down, she looked over the guard in concern. He had been seriously beaten, and she was impressed to see that he was even still conscious. Surely it was only by the will of the Divine that he was even still able to compose full sentences.
“You are badly hurt.” They were just behind the inn that she was staying at, so her best bet was to take the man to the local innkeeper. He would know how to contact the proper authorities. “Here, let me help you get inside.”
Pulling the man’s arm over her shoulders, Yvonne slowly lifted him back to his feet, carrying his weight with little effort but careful not to try to exacerbate any of his injuries. Despite her efforts, the man winced as he was pulled back onto his feet. He opened his mouth as if to once again thank his savior, but Yvonne offered him a friendly smile to cut him off.
“Save you strength, guardsman. Do not waste your life thanking me for saving it.”
