Nearly two months after The Trial of Hot Water, the group of seven found themselves riding through the forest at a canter. Their destination is the only Teklem city, Fairview. But, having no time constraints and plenty of money, they didn't need to rush.

Theaiss and Odordious had ridden well ahead to scout, Velwrith was guarding the rear, Emmeriss was strumming a harp, Valasta sewed a hole in someone's blue cloak, and Kal'Saeria twisted wire around a semi-precious stone.

They didn't expect trouble in these woods.

Uninterested in the music, Velwrith found himself daydreaming. He found himself dwelling about the weeks bedridden and all the salves and potions Valtra had made him use from the day of the trial till the day he left. With a shiver, he remembered having well bathed in numerous ointments. But he had made a full recovery, and his hand functioned again if still somewhat uncomfortably.

 Lost entirely in thought, Velwrith did not notice the low branch in his path. He was cleanly swept from his mount and deposited in the foot-deep creek beneath.

His companions laughed, but they helped him up, and Emmeriss retrieved his horse. While they remained grounded, the mounts stayed agitated. When they returned to the saddle, they found the way blocked by a man in engraved blocky armor with a massive hammer on his shoulder, a firearm holstered on his right hip, and an utterly flattened helm that might have once resembled a wolf's head.

"You this Lightbinder fellow I been hearin so much about?" The man shouted. 

Velwrith scoffed but responded, "Yes, I am. Velwrith Silverwind the Lightbringer at your leisure. How might I serve you?"

"Well... I hadn't thought you'd turn up so quick. So let's make this easy, come with me, and your friends'll get to go along nice'n quiet." The man's voice was gravely, and his grey eyes sparkled under the mess of a helm. 

Velwrith smiled and touched his sword belt. "And what if I choose not to come with you?"

The grey-eyed bandit yelled again. "Well, things'll get a bit messy then, won't they?

Emmeriss chuckled, dropping his harp into a saddlebag and slipping his bow between his legs string in his hand. "Well, this sounds like common banditry to me,"

"Perhaps you think to hold our friend captive for a ransom?" Valasta said, stretching stiff hands and riding into the front.

"Aye, that's the plan. Might consider mailin him back to his ma, bit by bit, could charge her for each piece." the pale man said sarcastically.

Kal'Sairea's ax was already in hand, and she was standing in her saddle, ready to charge. Valasta put up a hand to stop her. He straightened his clothes, turned to the bandit, and took a long deep breath.

"Tell me, good sir, how much do you think you will receive? I don't believe a man so clearly well-traveled as you would lack understanding of what happens to those who harm princes."

The bandit sniffed deeply. "Doesn't matter, Ninny; all you need to know is the Lightbringer is coming with me."

Valasta smiled, knowing something the rest of them didn't. "Unfortunately, we won't be able to sustain that request. Furthermore, I don't take very fondly to Wildlings questioning my heredity."

The bandit pulled the large revolver from his belt and pointed it at the wizard without drawing the hammer. "Don't rightly care, Highborn. Now give me the Lightbringer, or I'll shoot you."

 Valasta cracked the reins, stepped backward out of his saddle, and sent the beast charging at the armed man. He landed on his feet, and a three-inch heavy silver needle appeared in his hand. The wizard had threaded it with several feet of thick black cord, several loops of excess dangling from his belt.

The man with the big hammer did not dodge. Instead, he trained the gun on the beast and fired twice. The horse instinctively tried to avoid the gunfire but failed, suffering a terrible blow to its hind leg. It fell a few strides later with a horrible crash. It thrashed agonized on the ground before a third shot finished it.

"That was stupid." The stranger said in a  dry, matter-of-fact tone. He slid the gun back into his belt with a scowl, now favoring the hammer with both hands.

A blast of invisible but tangible force stuck him in the chest, sending him a few feet backward. The wizard's movements indicated another was forming. "In hindsight, you're right. I expected you to sidestep. Perhaps we could borrow your horse and start this ambush thing over again?"

Three more pale-skinned  Valdrath appeared around them. Two approached through the water, a man and a woman. While another approached from the way, they have come.

The woman held a crossbow in one hand and a black arrow in the other.

The man shuffled towards the group dressed head to toe in well-oiled black leather, two shortswords at his sides.

The road back to town became barred by a woman standing empty-handed, a paired saber and sword breaker on her hips and a dozen black throwing knives across her chest. 

Making a snap decision, Velwrith closed his hand around the hilt of his sword and felt the pain of stretching the new skin. He called on the Lightbringer's presence and charged at the empty-handed woman. Closing the distance, he brought his sword around for a fierce downward swing.

She dodged, sidestepping the horse and parrying his sword with a wave of her arm. The blade jerked in his grip, throwing itself away from its mark. 

Her other hand struck, drawing and stabbing a knife just under his cuirass. His mail split around the blade. The compressing metal rings were cold as they bit through his underthings.

 Sandbucket whinnied as the dagger nicked his rump when she recoiled, but the damage was superficial. 

Velwrith wheeled the horse around, charging again, but he feigned his attack. Then, instead of committing to an actual strike, he waggled his blade at her. When she struck, he chopped half-heartedly at the dagger when it came. Then drove his sword through, a deadly heart-strike.

Had it not been repelled, it would have been instantly lethal. But, instead, the woman's repulsion flung the razor in a vicious arc, starting between her breasts and ending below her navel. She collapsed, in agony but alive.

Dropping from the horse and sheathing his blade, he grimaced and strode towards his opponent. Opening himself to the world around him. He began gathering filaments of light, motes of magical energy, around his right hand. By the time he reached her, he had created another deadly weapon, one unaffected by magnetism.

The woman didn't see him until he stood over her. hen he spoke, trying to sound both gentle and f rm. "Surrender your weapons ns. I can help you if you do."

She said something he didn't understand, snapping a hand to her sword.

The clergyman let forth a both of light. Instantly it snapped through the woman's left eye. She died without having drawn her sword.

With another steadying breath, he re-mounted Sandbucket and returned to the fray.