Chapter 1: Friends in Need

Now having arrived in front of Mikkla, R3N-L3 raised his blade high, aiming to plunge it into the archer without ceremony or hesitation.

"Uhrr...!" - Gabalan growled, more in anger than pain... though the pain must have been significant. He grabbed his left side, where the arrow had grazed him. He curled in on himself, trying to control himself... or so the other thought. At the same time, he put his left hand into the right sleeve of his long robe, as if to reach his elbow...

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Wolfram attempts his shot again, nocking another arrow, as he hopes for a clean killing shot, unlike the last one.

Tzal pointed at Mikka and lobbed another ball of acidic globule.

As soon as Mikka drops, Lauretta wastes no time in checking on the fallen, beginning with Pwyll. Her head pressed against his chest, listening for breath. His warm blood clung to her cheek, but she did not appear phased. Her fingers pressed against his wrist, hoping to feel the thrum of life. The fact that they turned to blades didn't matter so much to her as giving them the opportunity to make up for it.

Not so much hope stayed for Brutus. The acid that clung to the battlemad warrior likely still burned through to the bone where he lay. Despite caring to save lives, something rubbed her particularly wrong about the notion that Mikka would survive where others might not. Her greed clearly pushed for this battle. If only they had listened to their priest...

"Damned fools."

Finding signs of life among the bodies, the priest immediately got to work stabilizing them. Her hands coated with crimson as she pressed into Pwyll's gut to stop the bleeding.

"Come back and do some good with your life, you bastard."

She'd do what she could for Pwyll and Mikka both.

The automaton, stained with the blood of the Silver Coins Company, marched over to Mikkla, originally positioning his sword for a quick thrust through her heart before pausing as Lauretta tried to administer aid. His head tilted slightly to the side at her peculiar actions. "Member Lauretta. Do note that this organic incited the conflict and was the most fervent in her cause, one opposing ours. Therefore, the removal of a ringleader is necessary. Her life has no value to this party, only risk."

Tzal looked around the carnage, checking on everyone, trying to gauge if anyone from their party was badly wounded. He remembered seeing Gabalan being attacked and receiving injury. When he listened to R3N-L3's comment, he came close to them and said, "I understand your caution, R3N-L3, but right now she is no threat to us. Beside, we will take her back to the town so that she can face justice. We have already neutralized everyone, and killing them outright would be morally beneath us. Also, Lauretta has a duty to her order, and she must fulfill it. On a serious note though, I wonder where Pyram Peek ran away. He must have used the opportunity to escape. I hope he has gone inside the tomb, because he is our only link to the missing people of the town."

"The man is a coward as I had always suspected. We can corner him in the tomb and question him yet again."

Wolfram approaches the priest and asks her if he can assist in anyway despite him not sharing her sentiments at saving the injured. He'd just assume slit their throats than let them live.

Aazim watches Lauretta work, a perplexed expression on his face. For someone who acted like an uncompromising engine of vengeance, she could then do an about-face and worry over her former enemies. He thought it was strange and contradictory...and maddening. Because in his opinion, she was showing villains more respect and concern than she'd ever shown him. He half expects her to jump up and scream at him for some perceived slight, and then immediately return to agonizing over Mikka's condition.

Like R3N-L3 and Wolfram, he cares little for the fates of these brigands. He'll instead focus on Gabalan and R3N-L3, and assist them in any way he can. And as for Pyram, they can track him once they've recovered and organized themselves again.

Without looking up, Lauretta gently pushes R3N-L3's weapon out of the way and continues with ensuring their attackers wouldn't bleed out in the dirt. Then she takes Wolfram up on his offer of assistance, guiding him to create some basic field dressing for the wounded.

"The world ain't always black and white like you see it is, metal-man. She may have stood against us and harmed our mission, but that doesn't mean we have to be killers too. I think she's a right awful woman for what she did, but people can change. Today's enemy might be tomorrow's ally. But even if she doesn't learn from her mistakes and do some good to make up for what she's done, we can take solace in knowing we tried to do better than they did. If everyone thought to make purely pragmatic decisions based on value and risk, R3N-L3, then the world would've drowned in blood a long time ago."

Her explanation was as earnest as she could make it. She knew some might call it foolish or self-righteous, but it was all she could cling to without letting the fog of war cloud her vision again. The question was: which of her companions would say such a thing? R3N-L3 and Aazim certainly. The jann's stare didn't go beyond her notice. Neither did his disturbing magic and manipulation during the battle. Those displays created many more questions in the priest's thoughts about him.

Meanwhile, Wolfram continued to be a reliable and respectable sort in her eyes. If there was someone she was to go to first with a problem, it'd be him. Indigo was also rising in her perspective, seeming to have a good moral character despite seeming a more pragmatic man earlier on. Gabalan... still a complete enigma. The man seemed to constantly keep his cards close to his chest.

"I don't think we'll have time to take this lot to face justice, Indigo. Our concerns with this tomb and hunting down Pyram are far more pressing. I say we leave them in the care of that fellow priest of the High One while we get back to work."

Seeing that the others had engaged the remaining foes in battle, Gabalan abandoned whatever he had been doing—or preparing—at the last moment. Slowly, he pulled his right hand out of the left sleeve of his robe and straightened up. Yet, midway through the motion, a grimace of pain flickered across his face, and he wavered slightly on his feet. It was as if his body had only just remembered that he had been favoring one leg—an affliction completely ignored in the heat of combat.

Noticing Tzal’s concerned glance, he merely waved it off and, in a hoarse voice, muttered, "Oh, don't mind me… I have my own ways of dealing with this. Just need a little time…"

Hearing the exchange that had sparked R3N-L3’s reaction, he let out a dry chuckle before commenting, "Perfectly logical, Ren-Lee. But unnecessary. Besides, who’s to say that Lauretta’s mercy—or even the brush with death they’ve just experienced—won’t spark some shift in their minds? Who knows… perhaps their great-grandchildren, properly raised, will be the saviors of the Republic one day?" He exhaled sharply and added, "Now… give me a moment… I need a bit of solitude… ugh."

Limping more than usual, Gabalan turned and hobbled off toward the nearby thicket.

Many of those who had heard him suddenly realized they had no idea what "the Republic" was. Some had never even heard the word before. The confusion in their eyes was evident as they watched him go, but by now, Gabalan was long accustomed to such looks.