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Knights of Justice (Quantum Tangle x ShadowOfDesire)

Quantum Tangle

Planetoid
Joined
Jul 25, 2018
Location
Mitten Land, USA
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KNIGHTS OF JUSTICE
Issue #1: The Lady and the Knave

Why did they look at him like this? Clark wondered as he watched his two best friends look at him from their carriage. A wild curious stare of suspicion. What was there to be suspicious of? Well… yeah there was that. The fact that he was stronger than any man they knew, and once they saw him blow away a barn fire, along with the barn. It wasn’t his brightest moment but the blue eyed gentlemen with short black hair and a little twirling cowlick, but he always did his best. Honest just as his folks raised him.

But the burning green gaze and soft smirk of Lana could only be challenged by the intensity of her reddish copper hair, which flowed wildly down the back of her green and brown dress. Meanwhile Peter was lazy with his straw hat strummed away tune on his lute singing. Some sort of nonsense that Clark was not willing to dignify, instead he rode upon the back of his steed with back straight and eyes forward. He was dressed in some ramshackle kind of armor made from scraps of the local Blacksmith and his own ingenuity. Even the chainmail had been crafted by hand. With jerkin and gambeson in faded blue clothe stitched by his mother.

“Look at you Clark Kent, Knight of the Realm!” Lana cheered as she steered their carriage closer adding, “Almost dashing I might say.” But leave it to Peter with his mop like hair hanging in strands to ruin a perfectly good compliment by saying, “Not yet Miss Leng. You see to be a Knight of the Realm, you must own lands…” The woman chimed, “He has Smallville, we agreed to support…” Only to be cut off just as quickly, “Also of Noble birth and be knighted by a respected Lord of the Kingdom.” Peter’s expression was dry as his picking hand fell flat against the lute, “So he is nothing better than a Hedge at this point.”

It was too late Lana was trapped in that dreamy look she always gave Clark, yet the modest man never acknowledged. But Peter knew that his friend was aware. Was it jealousy? No, he knew Lana had always been this way since they were children.

“Pete that is why I must head to Metropolis. Just as Sir Kirk the Manhunter when he performed the seven trials of valor for old King Roderick.” Clark spoke quite confidently.

An old legend of heroes and men it told of a time when Sir Kirk was still but a nameless mercenary in the Kingdoms retinue. But he had no noble birth, no lands to claim. Sir Kirk was the lowest class in all of the Realms yet through perseverance and demonstration proved himself to King Roderick. Impressed by the man’s completion of seven impossible trials, Sir Kirk was Knighted, given lands, and served the King until death. It was a story of nobility and bravery. One of Clark’s favorites as a child.

But to others it was a rarity and something, at least where Peter was concerned, taken with very little faith. “True but how will YOU do that without revealing your secret?” His friend questioned quite sincerely, as all three looked over the sweeping vista. Ahead there was an envoy of armed men and horses holding the Banners of Lane, and at the center a carriage all heading towards the same direction. “What secret Pete?” He grinned sharply. To which his friend with a strum of his lute said, “Touché my friend.”

However all joviality was lost as something in the distance caught one of his many senses strangely. Screaming and yelling, commands he thought. From who? To which his vision focused in and noticed that not all of the armed men on horseback were noble or with banners. Among the host was a brightly dressed woman in ornate leathers of blues and yellows, wearing an elaborate face mask of a bird.

Boots rising onto the straps Clark swiftly snapped the reins causing his horse to rear and bolt off into the direction of the noble envoy. A crude spangehelm in hand, the aspiring night placed it upon himself in charge to aid. Both Lana and Peter looked to eachother in shock. With a strum of his loot the young man gave a frustrated statement, “And then he goes and does that!”
 
A tidal wave of marauders struck the cluster of guardsman with full force and steel rang against steel. The trees about them shifted and bandits appeared perched within them, picking off those along the outer edges. Blood spilled, men fell skewered or impaled, and chaos reigned. Above the din a deep voice cried out. "Protect the Countess!" Several of the guardsmen gathered in a small force, breaking away from the fighting forces.

Fearful horses broke free and galloped away. Within the contingent of guards rode a woman of slim figure, her dark hair flying wildly as she spurred her horse into a gallop. She was dressed elegantly and cloaked in the deep, forest green of House Lane. Though they fled the scene, there was no fear in her countenance, only a dogged determination to survive the skirmish. The men that remained were outnumbered, but better armored. They fought to fend off the bandits for as long as they could, giving the others time to escape.

Part of the bandit force retreated and the masked woman with it, circumventing the battle to bypass it for the road. They gave chase, taunts and cries loud as they rode after those fleeing. One among them had a bow, which he used with deadly force. An arrow flew and one of the guardsmen fell. There were only a half dozen remaining, spurring on the horses that were already weary from travel.

As Clark neared the battle, archers turned upon him from the trees and arrows rained down from the skies.
 
This was a first. For a man who had only known the life as a farmhand and close village tradition the most he had conflict were roaming drunks from larger townships, and the occasional thief. But this? His count gave him a count of almost fifty heads to the twenty some guards of the noble envoy. Perhaps careless Clark let arrows plug and rebound off his crude armor, only making quick motions to deflect any shots aimed at the horse. Charging head first the rain of lancing arrows the young Knight to be caught some of the tree perched bandits by surprise, with one being pegged in the chest by a carpenter’s tool to the chest that was thrown by the man from his satchel.

The masked woman waved her hand ordering her close contingent to break about Lady Lane and her fleeing envoy. With the intent to flank the infamous Magpie came from behind with five her own defending every direction, whilst four men on either side came with spears lunging towards the Guardsmen and their horses.

“Surrender now Lane and I will not have to shed any more blood!” The Magpie wickedly threatened giving a shrill cackle, holding one hand to her lips to stifle a confident laugh.

But all was not as planned as a blue helmed man upon a white horse rode upon the rear of the right flank. A dozen arrows with complete or shattered shafts protruded from the armor. Unhindered by this fact the man drew no blade or weapon, but instead chased upon faithful steed plucked men singlehandedly throwing them off their mounts. Perfectly unharmed save for the rough tumble and a possible concussion the Bandit Leader was taken aback at the sight.

One man remained on the right, and with spear in hand attempted to charge the middle of the Countesses’ envoy. Spear tip close snagging the edges of her green dress suddenly a blue spangenhelm flew across impacting the Bandits ugly face. Tumbling back off the mount at breakneck pace the criminal could not avoid being trampled under hoof.

At this point Clark with his short black hair feathering free in the air, and bright blue eyes fixated on the conflict charged ahead to sweep about the left flank in a charge. Brave and fearless he came head on with a long blade held now over head in threat.

Amidst this chaos the Magpie was seeing the sudden folly and signaled her men to follow her around the right. Drawing out a crossbow she aimed the chambered bolt at the hind quarter of the Countesses’ horse. “Leave it to a woman to do all the work.” The masked woman sneered letting loose her shot.
 
Someone screamed -- either the girl or the horse, it was unclear -- but it was the horse that dropped as an arrow suddenly sprouted from its rear flank. The girl tumbled to the forest floor, impact lessened only slightly by the mossy ground, though enough to still drive the breath from her. She didn't stay down long, however. Smart enough to know that a moving target had a better chance than a stationary one, she was on her feet in a matter of moments. She ran deeper into the trees where they grew too closely for the horses to pass and the trunks gave some cover from projectiles. A branch snagged her cloak, hampering her for a moment, but she ripped free, leaving the garment behind, and continued to flee. Her silken dress was soon in tatters from being snagged on countless bushes and low hanging tree limbs, and her soft slippers were soaked and ruined by the mud. Still she didn't stop running, searching for some place to make a stand to give her guards time enough to put down the rabble.

They made a valiant effort, for all that they were outnumbered, and looked to be on the verge of falling to the brigand's ambush, but Clark's efforts did not go unnoticed or unappreciated. The herd thinned and they surged forward with new life, giving their charge time to escape into the forest. The bandits soon found their lives in mortal danger as they tangled with the better trained and better armored guardsmen. Seeing the tide turn, their leader took her small band around the secondary skirmish and abandoned their horses to follow the Countess on foot. They knew this land and were intimate with the features of the forest. A half dozen of them drove their prey forward with quickened steps and strategic arrows, turning her path aside time and again, sending her toward the one place where they knew she'd be trapped and helpless to flee. The Magpie led the way, cackling as she swam between the trees, her laughter spurring the Countess on a little faster each time.

Lois was gasping for breath by the time she broke cover, bursting from the treeline to the wide open space that dropped off below. Miles of vista lay below, thick forest stretching in every direction. They'd driven her to the edge of the cliff that held no way down save for flinging herself off the precipice to her death below. She prowled the edge, heading away from the sounds of battle, but one of the bandits broke from the trees ahead, and then one behind. Finally, the Magpie herself appeared as the rest of her handful spread out in a loose semicircle to keep the woman from escaping.

Panting, Lois took a step back, foot sending a shower of pebbles over the edge. Her stomach fluttered as she pulled free the long dagger she wore at her belt, holding it firmly in one hand in warning to any that might draw too near. She was cornered, and like any trapped wild thing, she could be extremely dangerous. Lois said nothing, but her blade glinted in the light as she twisted it to better grip the silver handle, eyes flitting over her attackers.
 
The Magpie had her moments of frustration, cursing the arrival a man that terrifyingly dispatched Bandits with minimal effort. But now here she was surrounding her prize with her crossbow freshly loaded and pointed at the Countess, whose silver blade glinted in the sliver of light from the canopies. “I promised no harm, and this is the thanks I get Miss Lane?” The woman sneered with a hint of contempt. Her mask would not contain the bright smile now as the Bandits pressed forward slowly and the Magpie threatened, “Now surrender. You have nowhere else to run, and your guards cannot help you if you fall to your death.”

Meanwhile Clark had managed to swiftly throw the remaining bandits off before darting towards the edge of the thick timber and woodlands. His steed could go no further. “Stay Comet, I will be back.” The man urged practically vaulting off his mount. Shuffling in his armor, he noticed one of the arrows graced a leather bind connecting his Pauldron. Annoyed by it he tore the piece away exposing his shoulder; then with an effortless swipe down the front of his plated armor, chopped away all the jutting shafts of the arrows that managed to pierce.

Racing on foot was a much quicker venture as he moved like the wind through the woods, only his armor was a bit more bulk than he expected. His left arm and shoulder collided with the trunk of a tree causing it to splinter away with a thunderous sound. This caused the Bandits to turn their attentions in shock.

With a swift warning the Magpie stepped in front of Lois’ sight warning, “Do not even think about running. I am still paid whether you are alive or not Countess, now back to discussing the terms of your surrender. Perhaps you would like to get on your knees?”
 
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