A day had passed since Michael was asked to hunt some bandits, and now he was traipsing through the forest with Valdr at his back. One could say there wasn't a lot of preparation put into this, but Michael would argue back that there wasn't really any needed. Bandits were generally the same everywhere, no matter the world you are in, so he felt pretty confident in dealing with them alone.
However, Valdr seems to have gotten it into his head that he owed Michael more than he did, and decided to accompany him despite the fact they were probably going to be heavily outnumbered. Valdr had asked if there were going to be any more people coming, but Michael shook his head. Anymore than them would make finding the bandits more difficult, not to mention splitting the reward in many ways.
Valdr was kind of required anyway to be honest, without him Michael would be wandering around the forest randomly looking for his quarry. His companion had lived here most of his life, so he knew it like the back of his hand.
The bandits they were hunting liked to patron the roads apparently, hiding in between the trees while laying ambushes for any unguarded passengers. As such, the duo crept along the side of the road, searching for any travellers so they could use them as bait... Honourable? Nope, but effective? Certainly.
"So, what's the deal with that talking sword of yours... Is it possessed by a spirit perhaps?" Valdr asks, making small talk as the duo walk.
Michael shrugs, "No idea, all I know is that Derflinger can talk and it knows it. Got an ego to suit it to boot."
"You wanna start this again, Partner!? Because I'll ruin you like I did that rat-faced blacksmith's store!"
"Huh? I thought you couldn't talk unless he allowed you to? Never said a word while we were bear hunting..." Valdr remarks.
Derflinger clacks his mouth-thing in annoyance, "Just because I'm not allowed to doesn't mea-"
"Shut up, sword." Michael commands while tapping Derflinger's pommel, "We've got guests." he states, gesturing at the road where a horse-drawn cart protected by two guards appears.
"Not that I disagree with your plan, but, should we really be using these people as bait? I'm not sure the Jarl had this in mind when he sent you out..." Valdr questions unsurely.
Michael shakes his head, "It didn't say that I couldn't, plus, it's better that we get the jump on them. Plus, this way we'll have proof and witnesses of their crimes."
Valdr just nods, following Michael as they trail the travellers. Soon enough, the bandits reveal themselves by felling a tree in front of the cart, causing the horse to rear back and stop. The young man riding the carriage climbs into the back while the two armoured guards draw their weapons and prepare to fight... Only for one to be knocked over immediately as an arrow slams into his head and bounces off of his helmet. The armour protects him but, it didn't do much for the impact, causing his vision to slow as his senses are rocked.
The other guard raises his shield, blocking some arrows and readying his sword as more bandits sprint out of the treeline with their weapons raised. They only wore basic hides and leather, so the guard should be able to cut them down with ease... Only for a net made of rope to be thrown over him from behind, binding his arms, shield, and sword together as he pulled off of his feet.
"Yeah, that's not looking good." Michael says before turning to Valdr, "Only reveal yourself if you need to, protect those guys and try not to draw attention to yourself. I'll go deal with the bandits personally." he says, turning invisible as slips away.
From what Michael could see, the bandits were fairly well organized, meaning they must have a leader of sorts. He sneaks past the cart as the bandits gathered to start looting, but Michael plan of assassinating their leader has to be cut short as they drag the young cart driver out, preparing to cut his throat to be rid of him.
*Chop!*
The arm gripping the young man's throat falls to the ground with a spurt of blood as Michael severs it, turning his blade and continuing the momentum by decapitating the bandit. The others are shocked still momentarily, but quickly gather their senses and charge Michael... Only for him to blast them with Ether Shock, killing two out of the five and downing the rest with crippling electrification, making them easy prey for executions.
Michael sweeps through the bandits as if he were a war god, at least in their eyes, and soon enough the remaining ones throw down their weapons and surrender, unable to do anything against Michael as his Blink, Blink Strike, and ridiculously high agility made him but a blur in their eyes.
"Argh! We got it! We got it! We surrender for the love of Gods!" a man with a long well maintained beard shot as he throws his weapons to the floor, his compatriots doing the same.
"Huh, usually they put up more of a fight, huh Partner?" Derflinger remarks at the rather sorry showing. It was true, these bandits were pathetic, they might be organized, but if they weren't willing to fight to the death, what challenge could they even present?
Even without their abrupt surrender, he felt like a lion playing with mice. They weren't even close to his level, making him wonder why the Vampire, its Thralls, and the Draugr Deathlord were so much stronger... This didn't feel balanced...
"Michael! How did you do that!? You were like the wind itself!?" Valdr exclaims as he jogs onto the road, clearly astonished by his friend's abilities. It wasn't just him either, the young cart driver crawls with hero-worship clear on his face. "Thank you! Sir! I cannot thank you enough for this! I thought I was about to lose everything to those fiends!"
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Michael grimaces slightly as he watches the teenage crawl towards him, mental images of the grudge movie appearing in his mind before he shakes them away like a soaked dog. "Y-yeah, it's no problem mate! Just-er, stand up and thank me properly, continue on your knees and people'll think you're soliciting me or something..." he says, causing the teen to pause, frown, stand, and brush himself off.
"S-sorry. I've just never been, well, attacked before... I-I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest!"
Valdr crooks a brow at the boy, "What kind of Nord hasn't seen combat? You some Milk-Drinker or something? One of those snub-noses over in Solitude?"
The boy quickly shakes his head, "I-no! It's just... Sorry." he stutters out but fails to verbalise anything. He was plain-looking, with a boring face, short brown hair, and strangely bright hazel eyes. His build certainly wasn't fit for a Nord, which suggested that he was malnourished or something...
Michael glances to Valdr, "Help untie those oafs, I'll talk to him." he says, gesturing at the still struggling armoured guards that'd failed spectacularly in their duty to protect the cart. "What's your name? Are you hurt at all?"
"I-I'm Surtr! Son of Pactur and Sorli the Builder, brother of-" he starts but Michael holds up a hand.
"Look, I didn't ask for your life story, just... Get in your cart while I clear the path, we'll head to Falkreath and put these cunts in front of the Jarl." he says, gesturing to the tied up bandits.
"The Jarl!? That fool Dengeir!?" the bandit leader exclaims, struggling in his bonds, "I'd rather you just cut my head off and hand it to him! I'm only out here in the first place because of that mad bastard! You try to take me to him and I'll-*Thunk!*" Michael nails the man in the side of the head with a kick, knocking him out with ease.
He turns to the other bandits, raising his foot to show his hard-leather boots, "Anyone else? I've tested these on rocks before and hadn't got a mark on them, I'm still wondering if bone fragments'll finally break them in..."
The bandits quickly shake their heads so he turns back to Surtr whose eyes have returned back to their previous hero-worship. "I-... What do I have to do to be like you!?" he suddenly shouts, blushing slightly at his outburst, "You're my age but so strong! And I'm just..."
Michael crosses his arms and shrugs, "Determination, Opportunity, Persistence, and a willingness to do what must be done." he states. His own development has been more on the 'bullshit-cheat' side of things, but he'd gone through his own fair share of trials... Was still going through if he were honest. "That's all I can say, everything else is variable. It's best not to compare yourself to me," he points his thumb over his shoulder, "Even Valdr, whose been training all his life is like a kitten in comparison." he says with a heavy helping of pretentiousness.
"Screw off Michael, not everyone can do that magic-shite that you can... I'll happily challenge you to an archery contest any day though! Let's see you brag after losing more times than you can count!" Valdr shouts as he struggles to untangle the ropes binding the armoured goons.
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Eventually, the path is cleared and the prisoners are lugged onto the back of Surtr's cart for easy transportation to Falkreath. Throughout the journey however, the boy continually pressed Michael for stories, tips, and other things relating to his adventures or strength. He was acting like one of those annoying fanboys that'd stalk their favourite celebrities... Or like, Syndrome from The Incredibles... Wait, was this HIS Syndrome?... At this revelation, he bites back an annoyed retort at the teen's overeagerness, and answers neutrally instead, deciding not to risk creating an enemy out of an ally... Even if it was unlikely.
Michael did gather some information from Surtr however, even if it weren't that useful... The Stonehills where he'd come from was north of Whiterun, so he'd stopped by it while travelling. He asked about rumours of Vampires or any news from the Companions. Strangely, everyone seemed to think that Vampires were a non-threat, not even worth notice when they did occasionally appear. Civilians ignored it and left the Holds, bounty hunters, and the Followers of Stendarr to deal with it.
As for the companions? One of them had gotten killed while clearing bandits that'd holed up in an abandoned tower. Surtr didn't know who specifically, but it was someone... Hopefully it wasn't anyone important, otherwise, the future may look different from what he knew.
Soon enough, they returned to Falkreath, the locals greeting them and jeering at the tied up bandits as Surtr drove towards the Jarl's Longhouse.
"Alright, You be safe now Surtr, I won't be there to save your ass next time. Probably." he says as he pulls the prisoners off of the cart.
"Should I come with you?" he asks, wondering if he'd be required to be a witness in whatever case they built against the bandits.
Michael shakes his head, "Nah, these guys are fucked no matter what. Just be on your way and try to stay out of trouble." he says with a small wave, dragging the bandits into the longhouse with Valdr.
Surtr watches them leave, feeling somewhat put out at being so easily dismissed. Michael had no reason to concern himself with him though, so he understood to an extent, no that it made him feel any better about it.
He looks down and clenches the reigns in his hands reaffirming his decision. He focuses south where Cyrodil was located, inwardly promising to make the most of this opportunity that not only his father had provided, but now his saviour, Michael.
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