Bat out of Hell (3/3)
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FYI: This is an open ended scene, without a clear resolution.  I will not be making an attempt to finalize this scene.  Again, this scene is open to interpretation, and will not be concluded.

The warrior struggled, but three bandits had her restrained.  A few others approached with shackles and a burlap hood.  The hand at her neck squeezed and she became still.

The chains clattered as they were brought around.

“Took half of the god forsaken woods to learn your lesson huh?  If you're really all that, it’ll be quicker to get that ransom paid.”

“After that runaround?  You-  Hate to break it to you, but half the crew is pulling double shifts.  She’ll have to work it off, if it’s worth anything at all.”

Someone off to the side got clobbered, but whatever was going through their heads, it was all in vain.  With a patch of grass beneath her feet, the warrior was seeing red.  Heartbeat thundering in her ears as veins and muscles flexed eagerly.

“Get off your high horse.  Boss always comes through with the payouts, and it’s better for business if they’re-  Hey!”

Shifting her shoulder blades, the smallest guy was pulled off balance, while the second was pinched up against the big guy.  The heavy thug applied enough pressure to cut circulation completely, but the effect was lost on her.  While she was peeling away, the lean guy tried to kick her in the side.

He was the first to be sent flying.  Blood rushed back to her head to the sound of a deep growl.  A war cry that reverberated on choked breath, as pressure coiled toward the extremities.

The big guy got half way through barking orders.  He dropped like a brick, pinning the other guy as she switched their positions.

The two charged with restraints had rushed to pitch in.  One was on the wrong side of the giant.  The other, the wrong side of her fist.

Something cracked beneath the force of the blow, sending the willowy man windmilling across the field.  The accursed archer fired a bolt which wedged between the pauldron and her mail, resurrecting ire anew.

The roar that came off it was downright bloodchilling.  An eldritch hiss of organs stripped of their voice, yet loud enough freeze the neighboring souls for the inevitable clamp of a set of jaws.

A bodycheck made of the giant springboard.  What few bandits had caught up positioned for hit and run interference were caught by a frenzy of motion.

Punches and kicks knocked the amatures into tomorrow, and left the better verse stunned.  The archer fumbled his arrow, but managed a swift reload.  His aim was true, and his bow faithful.  Tough armored monsters and bosses alike had fallen to a thrum of his bow.  Harrying a misguided adventurer was childs play.

A flash of steel divided the shaft, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  This was a monster was armed.

Suddenly, there could never be enough arrows in the air.  Bandits dropped like flies, and the distance between them drew tight like spider silk.  No one else could get near her, and the shot flew wide.  By the time he released a second arrow, he’d resolved to flee.