The Arbalist

The early-evening conversations within the village tavern came to a halt when the arbalist strode in, each patron turning to look at the bulky warrior. He stood out even when compared to the villagers, his skin a deep bronze following long exposure to the sun and his leathers displaying signs of extremely heavy use. Propping his crossbow against a table the arbalist gracefully slipped into an empty chair, leaning back and staring at patrons until all were nervously avoiding his gaze.
"Taverner? It's been a long road."
The rumbled words echoed throughout the room and the taverner gulped when the arbalist glanced at him, feeling pinned by the warrior's vivid blue eyes, before he reached into a basket, placing one of the large plant leaves contained within onto a plate. Carefully crossing to the arbalist's table the taverner placed the plate down and backed away, gesturing at it as he did so.
"White Mov. On the house."
"My thanks." The arbalist tore a chunk from the pale leaf and inhaled it, letting out a satisfied groan, and then gave the interior of the tavern a quick sweeping glance. "I also want a bed. I presume you have women as well?"
The taverner drew himself upright, too offended by the arbalist's suggestion to remain cowed.
"You forget yourself."
"I'm sure I do." Standing, looming over the taverner, the arbalist let a hand drift to curl around the hilt of a sword at his waist. "Just the room then. Also on the house."

The arbalist remained at his table until night truly fell, his dominating presence lowering everyone else's spirits. As the tavern began to empty though he rose, taking hold of his crossbow, and made his way to the staircase at the back of the building. Whispers started in the wake of his passage, concern flashing across a few faces, and the taverner let out a sigh of relief when the arbalist finally disappeared upstairs.
"That's Ulmaric! Tell me the girl is well hidden!"
"Of course she is master trader." The taverner spun to glare irritably at the man who'd spoken, one of several merchants who frequently visited. "Start again though. Who's Ulmaric?"
"He came to Drakesrest from the south, got hired as part of the city auxilia. He saw her get taken!"
Pinching the bridge of his nose the taverner glanced towards the staircase, mind racing.
"Everyone out! I'm closing." The merchant went to walk past, pausing as the taverner thrust an arm into his path. "No. You sleep in the dormitory tonight."

In the upstairs room the arbalist lay stretched out on the floor, ear pressed against the wood. Lightly jumping to his feet as he heard movement below the warrior padded back into the corridor, peering down at the village's main road. The dim shape of a man could be seen hurrying away from the tavern, no doubt heading towards where the arbalist had found a herbalist living, and the arbalist shook his head. Moving to the staircase he carefully investigated each step, his experiences in Drakesrest having demonstrated that secret hatches and passages could be built into every building. With a grin the arbalist pulled a pair of steps out of place, revealing a compartment within the staircase, and carefully lowered himself into the hole. A single chest shared the space with him, a robe and a few pieces of unquestioningly religious paraphernalia inside, and the arbalist scowled as he threw a candle aside.

With a click another removable panel was unlocked and the arbalist hauled it from its frame, emerging into an alcove in the tavern's main room. After looking down he nudged at the straw beneath him to reveal the floorboards, a frown appearing upon noticing the line of light coming up from between the wooden slates. Using his sword the arbalist pulled up a set of floorboards, staring down into the rough cellar he'd uncovered, and then scrambled down, landing on muddy ground with a squelch. A dishevelled young woman, hands bound together behind her back, shared the space and the arbalist smiled, recognizing the naked girl as the one he'd been seeking despite the dim lighting.

The crack of shattered metal rang out throughout the cellar as the arbalist hacked apart the chains keeping his newly-acquired charge in bondage. Hauling her to her feet he stepped back, pulling a coin emblazoned with the sigil of Drakesrest's city guard from a pouch.
"I've come to return you to your home."
The woman briefly eyed the coin, searching the arbalist's face for signs of deception, before sagging slightly, her ordeal overcoming her even as it seemed to come to an end. The arbalist leapt to catch her, holding her against himself, and climbed one-handed back up into the tavern, taking a moment once out of the cellar to consider his options.

Confident that the taverner was still a while from returning, and that the rest of the village was still sleeping, the arbalist slipped from the tavern and began guiding the girl towards the local temple, the pair coming to a halt when the merchant appeared at the head of a gang of men with bared blades.
"What did I tell you? An outsider comes to steal our women and here he is."
It was clear from the looks of anger on each man's face that the merchant had been feeding them lies and the arbalist drew his sword, shifting into a guarded stance as the gang rushed towards him.

The first died with a sword in his throat, the arbalist having swayed aside from his strike and then lashing out, and the other men cautiously spread, seeking to encircle the outsider. Not allowing the chance the arbalist dashed forward, swinging with such a wildness that his chosen opponent skittered back. He halted his advance though, aware of the men on his flanks, and risked glancing back to check on the woman. With a roar he lunged for the merchant, currently dragging the just-rescued woman away, but was forced to pause, weaving around a pair of men. A thrust took down second of the gang, life's blood spilling between grasping fingers, and then the arbalist charged through the gap he'd made.

The merchant had pulled the girl into the village temple, shoving her at a statue near the rear of the main room, and turned when the arbalist entered.
"The girl is mine. Only death is in your future if you press your claim." A growl was the response as the arbalist stalked forward, bloodied sword held out in front of him. The merchant stood his ground, drawing a short sword with a weary groan. "What drives you?"
There was a brief moment of silence before the temple was filled with the sound of clashing iron. Long years of wandering gave the arbalist the edge, easily driving the merchant back, but the arrival of the gang gave the lesser duellist hope, actually managing to force the arbalist back a few steps.

"Stop this!"
The shout echoed through the temple as a woman in a simple robe emerged from deeper within. The priestess stepped around the other woman present, noting her dishevelled state, and glared at both merchant and arbalist as their fight awkwardly slowed.
"This is not your concern temple maid." The arbalist risked looking over his shoulder, glaring at the men blocking the entrance "The girl is under my protection."
"Sister, you know me." The merchant circled round so that he could observe both the priestess and his opponent safely. "This man has come here with evil intent. Already Arlon and Rickard lie dead in the street, slain by his blade…"
"After they attacked me!"
The arbalist's cry bounced around the temple interior as he took a half-step towards the merchant and his gang, only to pause so he could glance at the woman at the heart of the conflict, half-hidden behind the scowling priestess.
"You do not deny murder."
"It was self-defence." The arbalist kept his focus on the merchant while he spoke, not trusting the other man to assail him when his attention was elsewhere. "The girl was kidnapped and I am retrieving her. These men are in the wrong."

Country folk have strong bonds though and the arbalist's confirmation that he had killed men of the village, even to protect himself, solidified the priestess' tainted impression of him. With gentle motions she moved the other woman further into the temple.
"You have killed, breaking the King's peace, and thus also in the wrong. Surrender yourself."
There was a moment of silence as the arbalist struggled to accept what had been said before he turned towards the priestess, fury visible in his eyes.
"I am leaving with the girl. Neither anyone mortal nor your gods will gainsay me."
After a swift flourish the priestess had a thin dagger in each hand, rage of her own marring the symmetry of her sculpted face.
"In their house you blaspheme!"
"Aye I do! Your gods are not mine."
Like a storm the arbalist left chaos in his wake as he burst into motion, blade flicking out to end the lives of men. He spun with a roar and ran at the priestess, forcing her to skitter backwards. A sharp pain at the base of her spine made her freeze though and a quiet sigh escaped her as she began sagging.

The arbalist came to a halt as the priestess crumpled, his companion standing over her while loosely holding a bloodied dagger, and a grim smile appeared on his face as he turned to face the two men left opposing him.
"Come ye bastards and whoresons! I'll put you all down and end this!"