FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(Author's Note: I am officially putting a sticker on this series, telling everyone a little about the series. Firstly, not all game-leeches or fan-fictions are perfect, so I expect people to keep a roughly open mind. Secondly, this timeline is based on MY Hero's choices and gender, so...yeah...that said, enjoy the first chapter)

Kalm-Fox's Journal: December 5th.

Now Bandits aren't at all pleasant; though not many things in Brightwood are. Hobbes, for one, did not dress accordingly, but rather stole children's clothing, or adult clothing and cut them down to size; but Bandits, they often dressed according to how strong they are, and who leads the pack. The henchmen would wear barbed wires and pieces of cloth around their mouths, whilst having both legs spread out as far as they could whilst stomping around; the leaders, on the other hand, often wore the same things, but often with bear traps around their necks, or flags sticking out of their backs, which wasn't a very good idea as far as my experience in fighting them could tell.

The worst part was they were all Wolves; I had nothing against them, but it gave most Wolves a dirty 'stereotype' or something like that; it seemed so...unfair to other races that they don't have to put up with this stereotype. But then, that was why I killed them, so that the stereotype could be erased from Albion's history.

I took up my usual spot, just next to the tip of the small ridge that I walk up every day; luckily, it hardly took me five or so seconds before the bandits had fallen into sight, wearing blood-stained clothing, with nothing more than rusty weapons with them at the time. From what little I could see past the half-dead trees, the Bandits were loading crates onto a nearby carriage; what must have been the driver and passengers were left in the bloodstained snow, each lying face down. I took in a deep breath of the cold but fresh air, tying my long brown hair back in a ponytail with a small strand of string from my wrist and lifting up my crossbow, sitting down on the edge of the ridge I was standing on; the long stock (much longer than any stock should be) was resting on my left shoulder as I rotated and twisted the crossbow around to face one of the wheels of the carriage.

My mind started to spin; it often did whenever I was about to get into one sided fights like this (with me at the advantage). I would always take a deep breath, holding it for as long as I could whilst closing my right eye, leaving my left resting against the crossbow to give me an accurate shot. I fondled the trigger lightly whilst listening to what the Bandits were saying, and at what point I should fire.

"These guys ain't got nothing!" One of them said, digging through the carriage with his legs sticking out, flailing lightly. "Has anyone found anything on their bodies, yet?"

"Why would we find anything on those chicken-sticks?!" Another said with disbelief, bringing a fist down on the previous Bandit's legs, causing him to jump out to face him. "They look as poor as you, you damn idiot."

"Hey! Anything is worth carrying." The other said, with a third Bandit appearing from the other side of the carriage, wearing the same 'clothes' as the other two. "If we can't find anything in the carriage, then we search the bodies; that's what the boss said."

"I doubt the boss has even seen his share of raiding and looting." The third one interrupted, threatening the other two with his sword. "If I were you two, I'd go ahead and overthrow that boss of ours; he doesn't know a Guard from a-."

I finally pulled my trigger, just as the Bandit said the word 'Guard'; a single bolt was launched from my crossbow and through the air, making a light whistling noise as it shook some snow off of a nearby tree, and made impact with the carriage wheel, breaking the wooden axle in two, and toppling it slightly, making all three Bandits jump and bring out their swords. I swung my legs over and laid my body face-down in the snow, keeping my body as flat and invisible as possible, whilst listening to the confused chatter.

"It came from over there." I heard one of them mutter lowly, whilst my muzzle was being filled by melted and solid snow. "One of you two go check it out...what...Fine, I'll go if you two aren't Bandit enough, but I get all the loot this time."

I heard snow start to crunch under heavy feet, as well as heavy breathing that was slowly getting louder and closer towards me; I laid my crossbow down on the snow carefully, keeping as quiet as possible whilst pulling my knife out from it's holster and positioning myself in a small crouch. The air became thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat and fresh air that somehow mixed together as the Bandit approached me from the front, heading up a slightly less steep edge and finally reaching the top of the ridge, facing me and arcing his sword in anger.

I stood up straight as the Bandit charged towards me, waving his sword in the air wildly; he started to slow down as he brought the sword down to meet me, but before he could strike, I had already gripped his spare arm with my hand and snaked around him to the left, almost falling off of the ridge in the process. Once behind him, I drove my knife straight into his back, hearing a mixture of a grunt and moan as his body froze still; I pulled the knife out, sending a small spray of blood in my direction, but only staining the snow. Before letting the Bandit fall into a large heap, I grabbed the back of his shirt and quickly wiped the blood off of my knife, and forced him off of the ridge with my right foot.

I looked down and saw the Bandit roll down the hill, eventually stopping next to the remaining two Bandits, who were looking up at me angrily, and back down at the body before them. I quickly put away my knife and picked up my crossbow again, keeping my eye on the two Bandits that were breaking into a sprint up the ridge to meet me; unfortunately for them, my crossbow was already loaded again, with the satisfying click telling me that I was ready to fire.

"We'll tear you're heart out!" One of the Bandits grunted, finally reaching the top of the ridge and pulling out his sword; "You think you can just push us Bandits around? Well I've got news for you; it doesn't work like tha-."

I pulled the trigger once more, sending another bolt whistling through the air and into the Bandit's neck, silencing him for good whilst I pulled out another bolt, by which time the last Bandit had already stepped over the body, and was now too close for me to reload and fire in time. The Bandit began to arc his blade like the first one, preparing to bring his blade right into my chest; I instantly moved to the left, with the blade barely scratching my leather armour whilst I held the bolt in my left hand. I drove the bolt straight into the Bandit's side, using all of my strength to pierce the clothes, as well as his rock hard skin.

Time froze for a few seconds, which gave me enough time to look up at the Bandit, who was showing an emotionless face as he slowly toppled to the side, taking my bolt with him and moaning lowly; on the way, I picked up his sword, which was much shorter and less rusted than I had made it out to be from far away, giving it perfect balance. It was unfortunate (but fortunate) that no more Bandits were around for me to deal with; though all the same, I kept it with me just in case.

I continued on through the snow and across the ridge, kicking down the two bodies that were left there until I reached the flattest and most worn out part of the edge; I slowly planted my feet on the edge carefully, whilst stepping down just as slow, but eventually slipping up and falling down. Like a Cat, however, I kept on my feet whilst falling until my left side eventually made contact with a nearby tree, sending me twirling down the ridge and to the snow covered ground, filling my muzzle with it.

I cursed under my breath and got up immediately, shaking off all the snow and picking up my crossbow and sword, with one in each hand; my instincts told me that it wasn't over yet, so I tied my sword loosely onto my belt and carried on, now holding my crossbow in both hands, with the stock reaching inches past my elbow. I stepped over to the now broken-down carriage, inspecting what damage there was, and what the Bandits could have been after.

From what I heard them say, they had a boss, meaning this was no ordinary attack; considering most Bandits in Brightwood worked in groups of three, or even alone, there was bound to be more trouble than I needed. I looked up at the sun for a moment, which was just breaking through the dim grey sky, as well as a tall stone pillar in the distance, known as Garth's Tower; from what I had heard, the Hero of Bowerstone had brought the tower after Garth had left for Samarkand, though he rarely ever used it anymore. I constantly wondered what a Hero does with a tower he doesn't need...

"So if I was a Bandit..." I muttered to myself, letting my crossbow fall into my right hand, whilst shielding my eyes with my left. "If I were a Bandit Leader, I'd be telling people to loot other people, whilst staying in a nearby camp, guarded by many more Bandits...so where do I find..."

My mind slowly drifted off, or my ability to speak, at least; I could only think what I was saying, and so far I was trying to say multiple things at once, which ended with half of my mind doing the speak-thinking, and the other half wondering why, how and what it was doing. If I were a Bandit Leader, I'd make my camp on high ground; but Bandits don't know these things, so they'd pick low ground; but if they were smart, or they pick a high spot in the off-chance; but what kind of person was the Leader? These thoughts kept hurling themselves at me until I couldn't take anymore and screamed in my head, silencing everything for a few moments...

I listened to the silence that droned on through Brightwood, whilst slowly fondling my crossbow and sitting down on a conveniently placed tree stump; I would have to end up scouring every inch of the woods if I had any hope of finding him, though I wondered why I felt like I had to. I only had to protect the farm, not chase after Bandits all day; but before I could ponder on the thought any more, I started to hear a quiet rustling to my right, just in earshot. I turned around quickly, getting up and loading my crossbow as fast as I could, just as a single shot came from the base of the trees, hitting the carriage behind me.

I backed away quickly and pressed myself up against the opposite side of the carriage, taking cover whilst listening out carefully beyond my rapid breathing. With my crossbow at the ready, I edged out of cover and poked my head out, only to have myself throw my entire body back in from several more shots coming from the trees again. I sighed in anger and waited until the shots had stopped, which only took a few seconds; finally, I twisted out of cover completely and fired towards one of the many trees in front of me just before ducking next to one nearby.

"Take cover!" I heard a Bandit shout in amongst all the confused chatter. "This one's got a crossbow on his hands; let's teach him what happens when you try to shoot a Bandit!"

I quickly placed another bolt in my crossbow and twisted out again, barely making out a shifting silhouette next to a tree; I pulled the trigger, hearing a loud 'twang' as the bolt had been sent through the air and into the dark figure, which fell to the ground almost instantly. From what I had seen just before I ducked into cover again to reload, there were similar shadows all over the place, most likely all Bandits; but just before I twisted out of cover again, I heard a familiar, yet not familiar, voice...

"Stand and fight, you cowards." I heard a person shout to the Bandits, who had instantly gone silent; the voice sounded very...upper-class... "If none of you will fight this child, I'll go ahead and kill him myself, and then come after all of you!"

I recognised that style of voice almost instantly; they weren't very popular in Albion anymore, not since the Hero of Bowerstone had torn away at their guild. Many people had many names for them; some called them Bandits all the same, whilst others simply called them scum or pickpockets. As for me, I used the more traditional term.

It was a Highwayman...