( This is a joint piece between Edward and myself as a way of introduction for our characters into the world. Hope you enjoy!)
The Mist
The Caravan had left the manor early that morning well before the sun had risen. Its Guards were all supposed to be of a quality that money could not approach the proper amount. The horses snuffled in the cool morning air, as a light mist seemed to cover everything in its perpetual grey sheen.
The charge had been swaddled and rushed into the coach. The doors affixed soundly, the coach men rising to their seats upon its top. Each movement caused the coach to sway and groan lightly on its wood and leather struts.
With the snap of leather reins the horses snapped their heads up and pushed into their harness, the coach gliding smoothly over the iron shod wheels across the bumpy cobblestone. It swayed with each bump but was truly a very smooth ride due to being one of the finer coaches that money could purchase. The charge did not truly notice the movement till the gentle sway caused her to slowly drift in and from sleep.
The Vanguards had ridden early pushing through the mist and fog to check the road as clear. The Charge must be protected. That was the orders, simple and exact. They’d never failed a task before. Nor would they now. The Captain had planned the route exact. Times of travel, stopping points.. down to the last minute detail. There had been some grumbling amongst the men that the Captain fancied the Charge.. but most knew that was not true, they’d seen him fornicating in the stables with one of the maids.
The coach itself had a four man compliment which included the driver. a crossbowman on the coach as well as two rear guards men. The vanguard having four, so in all 12 men. each skilled and capable in their own right. The best money could buy.
The road was a simple one once you cleared the cobblestone, dirt and a few pot holes. they traveled swiftly, time was important in this matter.. rarely was she moved.. and even then decoy upon decoy was used in her transport only a select few having knowledge of her exact location, the path they used, and never the same guards.. well expect this time.. This was their second trip.
The clear fields soon twisted into winding lowlands, part of the reason this path had been chosen was no heavy woods.. no place for them to .. hide.. ambush.
The Vanguard had ridden for about two hours then halted waiting for the coach to catch them. As the coach cornered slowly they could see the Vanguard sitting upon their horses idly looking into the low hills around them.
“There they are.. as scheduled” The Driver spoke to his crossbowman. “Call out to them see if they can hear us. “
“OYE! YOU LOT!” The crossbowman stood and called waving the heavy implement of war he was so fond to carry. Most all of the men had their focus on the Vanguard.. because honestly.. they’d done this before.. and no one was crazy enough to..
The sudden sound of heavy wood.. compressing.. like a spring taunt in the chill morning air filled all of their ears. The slap of something heavy then sound of wet.. and horses screaming.
The Men on horseback literally could not believe their eyes as a scorpion bolt slammed into the two lead horses of the coach lifted them off their feet and twisted the whole harness and tongue of the coach to the side.
The Coach lifted with the shift of weight and crashed on its side, a scream erupting from within and without as men dove from it.
Then.. nothing. The air was still silent.. but for the cry and thrashing of wounded horses.. the men able to stand did so panic on their face. The four upon horseback turned slowly forming around the overturned coach. Blades scrapped from their scabbards the crossbowman wound the heavy torsion bar setting a bolt home.
“what.. steady.. then lads.. steady.. where is that damn vanguard!”
The driver drug his sword free from his own scabbard as he favored his right arm. Their first priority was protection of the coach.. and its passenger.. then check if she still yet lived.. though the soft sound of whimpering from within was a good sign to that.
That’s when the Vanguards horses came running past.. all flanks covered in blood their nostrils flaring eyes panicked foaming as if rode hard.
“not.. good.. this ain’t right.. “
“shut up you idiot.. watch your section..”
“Something’s.. out there.. something’s moving!”
A scream erupts from the fog as one of the horsemen is pulled from the saddle, the sound of steel against flesh and a wet slap as a body slams into the ground.
“this.. how.. they didn’t know.. they couldn’t!”
“SHUT UP!”
TWANG! The crossbow explodes with the heavy sound of its string snapping its torsion bar. a Low guttural howl of pain erupts from the fog. The crossbowman doesn’t even blink but turns to working his weapon.
A low whistling sound fills the air then a hand axe buries itself deep into the mans chest.. he blinks and looks up.. eyes wide then down..
“Well.. damn..”
He collapsed over his crossbow his blood flowing over the weapon he loved.
The others start to feel the fear.. the panic is ripe in the air. The wounded horses still screaming into the morning as they thrash in their harnesses.. and thats.. when they come out of the fog. Their armor grey, lacquered to match that which they hide in.. hoods pulled over their features. They carry a variety of weapons.. spear, bastard sword.. long sword.. a pitchfork.. a pitchfork?
The Guards form and prepare to respond when the men in front of them scatter slipping back into the fog.
“Devils..”
“Ghosts..”
“shut it and fight them!”
A hand reaches out and snatches another rider from his saddle. The mans face contorted in fear as he screams the flash of white in the fog suddenly met with crimson as it splashes the horses hoofs.. it prances and screams in panic, primal fear in the morning fog.. and bolts.
The three remaining form slowly back to back. Shapes flit in and out of the fog weapons striking weapon..
“Hold.. just hold.. they aren’t far behind us!”
The sound of a heavy thump on the side of the coach, wood splintering and ripping the door comes whipping out of the morning air and slams into the three..
A dark layered voice calls.
“Get her..”
A voice responds smooth dark.. clipped in such a manner to denote proper breeding and education.
“Yes My Lord.”
The Grey shadow stands over the door he’d just ripped off and slowly leans into the coach extending a hand.
