Spin Offs, Setta Vrith B
A dark haired woman jumped up onto the wagon and looked at them across the tall grass. Setta asked Mokha, “What did you want to do?”
“What choice is there? We need to deal with this now.” He turned his horse around and dismounted.
Setta raised a spell to protect herself from projectiles, keeping an eye on the other two. The guy in the red hat jumped from the wagon and ran towards them, plowing through the grass. The dark haired woman gave a hand up to another woman, Setta could see that she was a mage.
“Perhaps you should get down.” Mokha suggested.
Setta did so, “There’s a mage, a guy making a beeline towards us and another woman.”
Mokha had taken his sitar from the back of the horse, he gave the animal a slap on the rump. It moved west. She heard the man approaching through the grass, there was the sound of a loud clap. Setta reached for her staff. Thunder boomed, the horse staggered into her and her feet were knocked out from under her. Her scarf went flying, contorting through the air. Setta’s face smacked into the flank of the horse, she then hit the ground. Hard. Deafened and stunned she sprawled in the grass, gasping for breath.
She could not hear, she struggled to draw a breath of air, her horse was stumbling around like it was drunk and then fell over. Her spectacles were gone, it appeared to be snowing. She felt around her immediate area for the spectacles but did not find them, thankfully she did not actually need them to see. She rolled onto her side, saw Mokha across from her, sprawled across his sitar case in a semicircle of flattened grass. Seeds, chaff and bits of straw slowly settled.
She became aware that her nose was throbbing, she darted her tongue across her lips and tasted blood. Setta drew in a proper breath through her mouth, focusing on a spell. Someone grabber her, turned her over and took hold of her tunic near the collar with both hands. The man in the red floppy hat leered at her. He was saying something, shouting by the look of it. She could hear nothing. Calmly, she touched his hand and released the spell.
He reeled away from her, agony etched across his face. She watched as his arm withered, he stumbled back, screaming. The spell spread throughout his body, he fell back and lay still, appearing to have been dead for many months. A dry husk of his former self. Carefully she sat up.
Two more men appeared from along the trail, one raised a crossbow and took a shot. Despite herself she flinched. The bolt swerved aside and landed somewhere behind her. The man looked at her incredulously and then to his weapon while the second fellow, undeterred, moved forward, raising his mace. Setta made a sweeping gesture with her left hand. Her staff slid out from where it had been within her bedroll and the advancing man tripped over it. He fell. She stood as the staff flew to her hand. She looked at the man with the crossbow. He turned and ran.
Calmly she took a full, two handed swing with the staff, striking the man who had sprawled in front of her. He was shouting and tried to roll away, she took another swing and struck him in the head. He fell back, her third swing struck his skull again and he collapsed. She brained him once more, just to be sure.
After that she ducked low and moved over to Mokha. He was alive, for which she was very thankful. She left him there and started down the trail towards her foes. As she moved, she cast a spell that would camouflage her, making it difficult for anyone to see her, as long as she moved slowly.
Setta cautiously advanced until she could see that the man who had fled was shouting at the mage, who stood ready on the back of the wagon, ignoring him. Her arms were raised, ready to release another spell. Of the dark haired woman there was no sign. Setta focused, pointed her staff at the other mage and smiled with grim satisfaction at the shock on the woman’s face as she lost her connection to the natural mana. She walked towards them.
The woman turned, scrambled over the side of the wagon and ran off to the east while the man looked along the trail and did a double take. He must have spotted her. He tossed his crossbow into the wagon, drew his short sword and squinted in her direction. He paused for only a moment before running at her again, sword raised high, bellowing a war cry she could not hear.
She stopped and readied her weapon. When he was close enough she thrust forward with her staff, striking his sternum. He went down like a sack of wet manure. She followed through, striking him across the head. He lay still, likely not dead, she did want to leave at least one of them alive. She quickly advanced to the wagon and climbed up to see what was happening further east.
The dark haired woman had gone off after the riding horse, it had likely run off when their mage unleashed the concussion spell. She was now mounted and heading back towards the wagon, the mage was running at a full sprint in her direction, waving frantically, likely shouting. Setta regretted never having learned a ranged attack spell, she could have finished them off in that moment, certainly she would have taken out the mage. However, she was satisfied watching the panicked mage trying to get up onto the horse as the dark haired woman struggled to control the animal. They fled eastward.
Setta went back to the man whose life she had spared and place him in a healing slumber, she wanted him in good shape when it was time to ask questions. Then she went to Mokha and healed him, he opened his eyes slowly, a confused expression on his face. He saw her and smiled, then noticed he was sprawled across his sitar case. He sat up and inspected the case, opened it, clearly worried, then carefully took the instrument out and inspected it. Mokha pointed to his ear and looked at her questioningly.
She mouthed, “It should pass.”
He put the instrument away, taking a moment to kiss the case after he had shut and latched it. He took a look around. Setta’s horse was not in good shape, one of its eyes had been destroyed and it had bleed heavily from the ears and nose, it still breathed and periodically it would flick its tail. Like the horse, the withered husk of the man in the floppy had was covered in a layer of fine particulate, the other man was sprawled across the trail, his head caved in. Mokha turned to her, his expression was both horrified and thankful.
He stood, carefully made sure everything was working properly, then went over to the husk. He took the floppy hat, smacked it against his leg a couple times to clean the dust off and stuffed it in his belt. He looked westward, frowned and glanced back to Setta. He made a few gestures, pointed to the dying horse and then westward.
She nodded at him. He went off to see if he could find his mount. She went over to her own mount and considered trying to heal it. The eye would have to be regenerated and she was unsure how much internal damage it had taken. Regretfully, she decided that killing it would be the more merciful choice. Silently, she thanked the creature for having protected her from the blast then used the same spell she had on the man in the floppy hat.
She found her spectacles in the grass, not far from where she had fallen. They were bent, but the lenses remained intact, for that she was very grateful. She should be able to repair them.
Setta removed her equipment and saddle from the dead horse, then searched the men she had slain for valuables. She dragged all of that over to the wagon. She also searched and stripped the recovering man of his weapons and gear, bound his arms and legs, leaving him in the road. She went over to the horse at the front of the wagon to introduce herself. She gave the animal some feed. Setta cast a spell around the wagon that would warn her if anyone with ill intent approached, then she lay down in the back to take a nap.
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