For The Drop Of Blood Ch. 9
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THE NIGHT OF THE PALE RIDERS
This is free advice from ol' Uncle Hákon: Do not, I repeat do not barge into a store and say “Price is not an issue” even if the owner is your damn brother, there is a gene in treaders that will after those words just see a sheep ready for sheering. Now, I don't want to say that I got tricked in any way, I was wearing top-of-the-line stuff, that would someone in not my line of business last for a lifetime. First, our lovely, almost crispy, Irish lass was absolutely right about Scottish Broadsword, or Backsword, or Claymore, Khyon said that pumpkin heads on universities still couldn't get to terms but I couldn't give a two cents about it. I handled it wonderfully despite being twice the size of my old poker (which we included in the price, thank you Khyon you leech), so sharp I could shave with it, and with beautifully sturdy leather sheath, double-bladed and still with a point that I could put through the link of a mail, finishing with full fist protection, together with doubled up deer leather on the inside of the shell, I should try to get finger cut inside it. Next new pants, boots and shirt and shirt. All three were unadorned just as I liked it, but with added features. The pants were black leather with equally leather straps at the outer sides so I could adjust the width myself I wasn't into leather pants of this style myself, but when I placed them on I immediately noticed, there were a bunch of extra parts added on it. “Yup, I won't lie a bunch of stuff I will sell you today is not allowed for sale to Humans, but again giving you Sniper Rifle isn't either, but I figured the way you live you'll be offed soon anyway just like any Elf could and I would like the guy who will watch my back to be alive. Both knees, private parts, and all major arteries have extra stitching of Mithral mail, can't guarantee for bullets but no one is cutting through that, harder than steel at just 20% weight. Considering it's just several places it's barely noticeable extra weight.” I had to agree, for extra protection in the areas that I myself targeted more than once, it was a worthy tradeoff. The same was with a shirt except it was blade proofed with 50-50% with bullets especially soft leaded, completely, and to offset weight more they used silk. Now the issue is the price for that little art project already ate half of my budget and I had boots, a knife, new gloves, and a hat still to go. When I mentioned that he nonchalantly nodded “Yup I'm going to take you to the cleaners and add a few more items of my own volition, but I figure Drows usually carry pretty swanky staff themselves. We survive tonight, with your half you will have enough and some leftovers.” “If we survive?” “Hey if we die I'm gonna be at a loss just as you.” I sighed and put the boots on I tightened the straps on the pants as I preferred for boots to go over them. Leather was soft and supple as lambs but I felt the balance to be off and I knocked the front entire front part was as hard as steel. I looked up. To my surprise he raised his arms, I usually know what I get but same as with the gloves this is the exception, Got 100 pairs for our militia. They are hard as fuck though even soles are not only glued but screwed on and metal is some special alloy so keep it on down low. I lifted the boot and true enough 10 screws were on, 5 on each side. I already saw the toughness of metal since, for obvious reasons, I had to put them on first and Khyon was one to put the seals on and opened the path for the pocket dimension for me to put them on. He was actually until today the only one who knew about my secret. And he kept it that way, that and the occasional “Just for Elves” item he slipped me from time to time did develop into the closest thing I had to a frined in at least a decade. Gloves also were simple black leather, these ones even bereft of numbs of fingers most had but on four knuckles there was an extra piece of leather, and when I knocked on the sword muffled metallic sound answered. Apparently, Elven blacksmiths played one day and get this alloy that was both lighter and harder than Mithral and were penning one of their equivalents to their eternal rivals Dwarven smiths to glue to the piece of plate mail made of new allow, apparently, they were at third paragraph when tragedy struck, allow was almost as brittle as glass. So no, armor, not swords, not long and poetic “Fuck You” to Dwarven Smiths. But Elves are practical, the thing had practical use just as you keep it small enough, apparently even the toes of my boots had to be made from two pieces welded together. But it was perfect for hidden knuckleduster. I punched through the thumb of hard oak without feeling even a small discomfort. The last thing was that part he said he'll add on it was a weird west with an odd false pocket that was tightly strapped on with four belly straps and three longer ones that went over the chest making it almost made for a shirt. In a way how tightly two pieces went together, so many buckles were a bit too much esthetically for me, and when I checked it doesn't impede my range of motion I looked at Khyon to say that when I noticed him aiming at me with his Sniper with the suppressor on. I reflexively went for Helen but one *Poof*, hammer strike to the chest and Khyon raised me from the dirt. Unharmed unless you count I felt I couldn't breathe right for a month. He sighed, there now you are bulletproof I checked where I felt the impact, but expect a little charing, there was nothing there “What about a heads up first?” Would you do it then? “Fuck no.” “Well, there is your answer. It was thoroughly tested on Elves and you know we break easier than you apes. It does work, especially if fitted properly that's why so many buckles. If there is too much clack it will still stop the bullet but it will leave enough space for it to break the bone possibly.” “O.K. another trade secret I assume?” “No, I just don't understand it. The idea is old. On the West Knights rode in their Iron and later steel armor, on the east in many countries they were making armor from layered cloth. And apparently, it worked. This is the evolution of the idea, fabrics are Elven specific but that's all after a few centuries of experiments to find the best mix, and what you wear is the result. Fake pockets give extra protection to extra vulnerable areas. For main organs and stuff, the back is twice as thick as the front for extra protection and it's found that with the shirt it is still effective in 70% of cases. You now have the best protection Elven nation and my humble shop can offer. Tonight we'll see how it works, technically it is a field test for that too.” He threw me something “Since you are probably broke by now, this is on me.” It wasn't a Bowie knife, it had more in common with my old sword. Wide symmetrical blade almost forearm long, tapering into a murderous point, double-bladed, Only difference between the two sides was that one had brass knuckledusters as a knuckle bow. It was a beautiful knife, barely shorter than a Gladius, and with a finish and the hilt he was right I couldn't afford it when I raised my head with his catlike stealth he was already gone. Somewhere in half dark of the storage I heard his voice “Pick up one hat on your way out we're leaving in an hour.”
Well, now I was as he said “I was now the best protected non Elf anywhere.” The part he did not say, even with some small airholes leather is hot. And I had a hell of a lot of leather on me. We found the best place, well kinda best place. The thing is I was almost a mile in front of Khyon since I had Dwarven binoculars. When I asked about that, he spat a bunch of expletives that basically meant that Dwarfs had better Night-Vision technology, than Elves and he has to do with shit, I forgot to ask what the hell that means for me being a mile closer to the enemy. Now I was alone and first blessed by his equipment I crawled into a vicious thorn bush, and hey-hoy hallelujah it did leave just scratches on the wardrobe once at the optimal position. I placed the binoculars on my eyes and Helen on my other hand, it was unfortunate but the only Aether ammo that did not give out position by light was Ice. Unfortunately, it was still noisy as shit and about 4 times weaker. I placed 3 in and 3 pure Aether. I was a damn spotter, a mile in front of my fire support, that gave me a close-quarter weapon for free. No, I wasn't too trusting, just too dumb. I was sweating like a pig for an hour before the sun went down and I started scanning the horizon with binoculars. Dwarfs were genius at this as I later realized, there was no color but perfect visibility. It took about 4 hours, and try to imagine it then double it. You are watching at the same spot, unchanging. Suddenly there they were, those boogiemen, about a dozen with horses that almost melted in the background. But I saw them. Black armor, almost similar to mine just favored sharp edges. I tinged Khyon (yeah just that little fire filled me up, something I will need to talk about back in the camp) but this is NOW I messaged Khyon. “Shoot the last one, (13,24)” cold as ice answer came “Affirmative.” And the head of the last rider vanished, I did not question “Next from behind, as fast as possible.” And it happened but not so cleanly, the next in line noticed. And for the first time, I got to the REAL point of spotter. What now? What when you are noticed? I bit my lip and growled, “Leader, free fire after that.” With some amount of satisfaction, I saw the first rider have his chin a remnant of his face. But also I saw why they were feared. One more they were down the middle one whose horse panicked. I stayed as still as I could because they fucking vanished. 8 of them just went invisible. I gripped Helen on the right and my new knife on the left. Placed binoculars on the ground, and waited. Until a straight rapier struck my shoulder, it went straight through my back protection, even my mail shirt, but it gave me enough time to move and dislodge the blade. I found myself face-to-face with a mail-protected face, that blade would not pierce, and, unfortunately for the wearer, it extended just to the top of the face. I saw that regret actually when my attacker faced his left eye to be introduced to Helen. Cold shot showered me with frozen particles of brain matter and bone giving me some time to crawl out. Unashamedly exploiting my almost ambidexterity I threw Helen in my left hand and drew a sword. Three small bolts hit the right side of where my heart should be, except for those pesky false pockets. And I was to go charging into it when his head went bye-bye. In a weird way, the fact Khyon was alive was more reason to fight for than he saved my life. Unfortunately for the enemy, my supply of Ice shots dwindled until very out of breath I run on the Khyon tussling on the ground against the enemy in black and another waiting for the outcome. At this point the second guy saw me and presented his blade, I presented Helen and punched a fist-sized hole where his heart should be, Last Drow twisted and brought his elbow on Khyon's temple knocking him unconscious, before standing and drawing an oddly Messer-type blade and I won't lie it was beautiful... for one it was like the complete opposite to what I had, for two he knew I had one more shot and not pansy-ass last resort. I could swear there was more than that. I holstered Helen, almost hearing her cries. And took my just ought Scottish Backsword, Drow started with circling and I did what every friend does kicking Khyon with a heel in the groin. Mistake one think you will prioritize your safety, I stood my ground and this bastard was good. Except Khyon thought a bit forward, I was basically cutproof and he crawled away. Recognizing it is one on one now, Drow drew a stiletto, both of his weapons awesome against mail. With Khyon still woozy. The sound of his voice did catch me a bit out of guard, musical, tempting. “You gave a good fight, but it's more fun I'll have with you in my chambers.” I gave a full grin and jumped back before his head ceased to exist. Santino walked down a first dune “This is not a little distraction, this is fucking declaration of war.” Still laying on my back I raised my finger. “Accurate but to who? Now I will pass out, if any of you lose your front lobe and start killing each other, I'm siding with the baddies“
I woke up with still wet blood in my mouth and the smell of the roses in my nostrils. I rose my hand up “Three cubes of ice please.”I felt the point on my throat.” I casually sit up and as expected point retreated I opened my eyes. “Anne glared at me.” I glared right back “Allow me to be quite clear if I don't get something cold to drink I am not going out to calm that storm of testosterone outside this tent.” She shook her head but soon I had my cold drink “Irish, you can damn come out too, I could smell you since I regained consciousness.” A curly redhead appeared but instead of daggers, there was that light smile on her lips. “How did you know?” “When we shared that special moment this morning, we...rubbed on each other. What we know about one other will last to the end of our existence.” “Like knowing that your father killed mine.” “I'm sorry for what it's worth.” “Never blamed you.” “Thanks, Red.” I looked to Lamia “No hard feelings?” She looked at me and I was briefly stung by a vulnerability in her eyes “If my man survives.” I winked “Thanks for worrying for me.”
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