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Last of the Shadow Foxes: 10 Paradox

“Cleric! Call the cleric!” An urgent cry shattered his consciousness. Emerson blinked as his vision flickered, his senses warping and distorting. The assassin winced and twisted his head as harsh light assaulted his weak eyes. Sight was the first to return. He realised that he was lying on the ground, feet scampering around him. Then the sense of smell. An acrid scent wafted through the air and Emerson involuntarily gagged. But there was something else mingling in it. Blood, the smell of blood.
“Hey there champ.” The same voice trickled into his ears. Emerson agonisingly turned his head to face the speaker. It was a young rogue with a wild fire in his eyes.
“Don’t try to move too much, wait for the cleric.” He whispered soothingly, scanning around for the cleric. The assassin suddenly realised that he could not feel the lower part of his body. He started to crane his head to check what was impeding his sense when the rogue softly pushed his head back down.
“Don’t look there, just take it easy. Wait for the cleric.”
Emerson inwardly groaned as he realised that he was wounded so badly that he could not even feel the pain. He tasted dried blood on his lips as he lay still, listening to the cacophony of voices and movement. The sky had turned a rich orange colour and he judged that it was approaching dusk.

Abruptly a shadow loomed over the stricken assassin. The cleric had arrived in all her glory. Emerson was not going to complain about how long he had to wait, there were probably more people than just him out here. Wait a moment. Something in his memory twitched. He frowned and just as he was about to divulge the mystery in his mind, the cleric started to heal. Now, if anyone of you has had your bones broken, organs punctured and skin ripped all at the same time, you would know that is pretty painful. Then having all that fixed at once would be overkill. Rods of pain slammed into Emerson’s mind, transfixing his senses, it was excruciatingly painful and he faded into unconsciousness. Not before agony gripped his battered body and smothered him in a blanket of distress, tendrils of woe snaking around his limbs, penetrating deep into his head.

Within this state of unconsciousness, Emerson remembered. It started slowly at first, tormenting the assassin’s feeble attempts to recover what was lost. He was somewhere cold – El Nath. Trying to find someone – His sister. With whom? With whom? Gavrilla and Ophelia. With that, the dam of his memory burst open and flooded his mind. The convoy. The prisoners. That Chief Bandit accompanying him…
“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!” The chief bandit exclaimed, waving her Dragon Caesar about.
“Okay, let’s go with the last cart.” Emerson answered with the conviction he lacked. He drew two Kumbis and together they slinked into the convoy.

Flash groaned as he sat on the wooden bench, the chains securing him to the floor tinkling as he shuffled his feet. The cart was spacious, but the twenty odd warriors, archers, mages and rogues occupied most of the space. The rest was filled with crates containing their liberated weapons, double locked of course. His mentor Nezumi scowled at his apprentice’s behaviour.
“Flash, behave yourself, honour and duty.” The bandit reminded the rogue. The other prisoners just glanced sullenly at them. The mages had arcane chains, which prevented the use of their power as well as retraining them. Suddenly there was a commotion outside and everyone looked up, a hint of hope in their eyes.

With a thrust of his kumbis, Emerson tore the canvas laterally as the chief bandit silently disposed of the two guards. Disappointedly, inside contained around twenty peasants, who instead kept quiet, became quite joyful at their apparent freedom. The assassin cursed and did not bother to even try to silence them, instead, he pulled out his pickpocket kit from his fatigues and began freeing the resistance members from their oppressive chains. The chief bandit popped in from the cart entrance and frowned before jumping back out to deal with alerted guards. The freed resistance attempted to grapple open a crate so Emerson prised it open with his field dagger.

Nezumi arched his neck as he tried to see what was the upheaval was about but failed to see anything but shadows passing by. The lamp on the roof flickered, making the ethereal figures appear and disappear on the canvas. Flash became quite agitated and was rocking against his chains. Lightning crackled as a mage futilely endeavoured to break his bonds. Sounds of fighting reached the cart and Flash could see that everyone was becoming frustrated of not being able to help who ever was out there.

The chief bandit swirled and danced, stabbing and slashing with her dagger, battling the ever-increasing guards surrounding her. A fighter went down, his Traus, clattering into the dust. Emerson jumped outside to aid his partner, he knew she was good but even the best warriors cannot hold out forever. He broke through the circle of guards and flicked his stars left and right. He was rewarded with cries of pain as the guards fell under his onslaught. Soon he managed to create a path for the chief bandit to retreat and defend the peasants.

Most of the peasants kept to the safety of the cart as they lashed out with their bamboo swords and Diao Chan swords at anyone who was in range. But some bravely ventured out to aid Emerson and the chief bandit. A distinct galloping sound reached the assassin’s sharp ears.
“Cavalry! Face front, face front!” He ordered with a jerk of his Avarice. The charging Kargos were less than four carts away. As far as Emerson could see, they were composed of hunters and crossbowmen. All the peasants could do was stand and hold their ground as the land vibrated louder and louder.

Emerson could see the fear in the resistances’ eyes. His hand started shaking again and he willed it to stop. The chief bandit gave encouragement to the fearful accompaniments.
“Come on, we can do it. Eyes front, go for the riders. For El Nath, For El Nath!” She roared, emphasising each ‘El Nath’ with a thrust of her Dragon Caesar. Soon all the peasants were chanting.
“El Nath, El Nath, El Nath…”
The Kargos were less than two carts away. Suddenly, a hunter raised their bow and launched an arrow into the cart next to Emerson. I zipped through the canvas and thudded into the floor. An explosion engulfed the cart, sending screaming peasants flying, flaming timbers crashing down. It was no ordinary arrow; it was an arrow bomb. The shockwave slammed into Emerson and he was thrown to the ground unconscious.

The Kargos were less than a cart away.

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Last of the Shadow Foxes: 12 Departed