His Peasant Girl *2nd attempt* (Closed for StarWhisperer )

It was called the Grand Forest for a good reason. The massive wooded area spanned 500 leagues in any direction. Few men knew just what secrets lay in the deepest parts of the woods, but that did nothing to prevent people to set up villages where they could live in relative freedom. The farming of these villages eventually became and important part of the economies of the lords who ruled from the outside.

Autumn could not come too soon for the isolated peasant village of Billy's Greenhaven, for this was the time the time of the harvest. The residents would find one of their biggest harvests ever. Surely the gods smiled on them this year. Not only were the people guaranteed food throughout the winter, but good money was to be made with the incredible excess crops. The peasants - men, women, and children alike - could not hide their glee as they reaped wheat and corn and gathered many tomatoes, apples, and heads of lettuce. Many of the spring's newly born pigs and chickens had also grown nice and plump. Surely there would be much singing and dancing tonight.

But little did this town of just 43 people know that their lives would be tragically cut short. Hidden from view and slowly approaching, twenty men on horseback armed with a hodgepodge of clubs, swords, and axes were ready to take what did not belong to them. As the sun started to set, several of them looked behind their shoulders, awaiting the signal from their boss to light the torches and attack.

Evelyn walked down the main street of the little village, not that that meant much, since it was basically the only street, with a few homes and the one or two small businesses the tiny town possessed, as well as a couple of vender carts trading things. This was Evelyn’s home, the place she had grown up in. By now, it felt like she’d been here for a century.

She walked down the street, a basket propped against her hip as she walked. Her light brown hair was tied back away from her face. The sun had brought out her freckles during the last few weeks. She smiled at passerby as she headed for her house with her basket full of apples. She had just made it to her front door when the screaming started, from the fields just beyond the tiny village.

Evelyn ran inside, setting her apples on the rickety kitchen table her father had made so many years ago before she had been born. Evelyn’s mother had died in labor, so she had been raised solely by her straight-laced farmer father. He kept her in line, but he was a soft-hearted man, too. He was coming from the bedroom holding the axe from the woodshed behind their little house.. “There are bandits,” he said grimly. “You stay here.” His normally cheerful cornflower-blue eyes, the only trait that Evelyn had gotten from him, held a grave sense of dread. Evelyn nodded, beginning to pace as soon as her father disappeared.

The screaming outside was getting louder, but Evelyn obeyed her father’s order. Even as the screaming was getting closer, and she could smell burning smoke. She hid in the back of the house, in the bedroom, where there were no windows. She had no idea what was going on, but Evelyn was certainly terrified.

"Leave no survivors!" the leader shouted to his men. "We don't want anyone waggin' their tounges now, do we!?"

Anyone who stood in their way was either cut down or trampled in short order. Those who actively resisted did no better. Many of the women were in the process of being raped. The lucky ones were already dead. The children were rounded up into a few houses and a house-to-house search was underway. Bushels of food were rounded up and survivors were dealt with in short order. At one of the last houses, a young woman was found and dragged into the main street, but before the boys could get busy, the leader intervened.

"Hold it there, boys! I have me an idea." The other bandits let go as he got off his horse and stood over her. "I have a proposition for ya. I'll give you a head start before Milo and I hunt you down." He pointed to the west. "Out in that direction is Port Avur, the closest city you can find. If you're lucky, you just might make it. Now git!"

Evelyn shouted, kicked, and screamed as she was dragged into the street. She was in the middle of an argument about who would get to rape her when the leader of the bandits dismounted, looking down at her. She took a small step back, following hand pointing West.

He didn’t have to tell her twice to run. She took off, darting between two houses and knocking over a cart full of chopped up wood and hoping they tried to follow her directly, instead of circling around and cutting her off. She sprinted through the field, glad that she had been raised by a man who had taught her how to run fast and hard. She made a bee-line for the woods, making it that far. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder, just in time to see the men on horseback galloping towards her. They weren’t even halfway through the field yet.

In her mind, Evelyn could picture a tree that was a ten-minute walk, probably a five-minute run, that she could climb up and hide in. She wasn’t sure if she could make it, but that was all she could think of to try to save her own life. She sprinted as fast as she could, ignoring the unforgiving branches and brambles that tore at her sweet, sensitive flesh and the skirt and bodice of her dress.

After a few minutes, Evelyn was panting and short of breath, but the tree was in sight. She could hear the men shouting behind her. She was so close… when her skirt got caught on some brambles. Panicking, she tore at it, but it was hopelessly caught. With no way to get free, Evelyn kept tugging and pulling, as the men on horseback came into sight.

"Aw come on! I thought you'd be a better chase than this!" The leader said as he and Milo started their horses circling around Evelyn like a pair of vultures. "All we wanted was a little sport, but you can't even get past a couple of brambles." He dismounted and started walking to her a little too casually. "I guees I'll have to help you out of that dress o-..."

His words were cut short as he fell forward, an arrow sticking out of the back of his head. Milo tried to look in the direction the arrow came from but another arrow land square in his chest and knocked him off. A sickening crack was barely audible as he was further impaled on a tree stump.

A few moments later, another man ariived on horseback carrying an unusually ornate bow with a quiver of arrows at his back. He had shoulder length brown hair and icy blue eyes and wore a full suit of chainmail with added plates along the arms.

The stranger then dismounted and approached Evelyn. "Are you all right, miss?" he asked her.

Evelyn felt tears welling up in her eyes when the two men started to circle her. She screamed as he reached for her, and closed her eyes, but it was cut short when an arrow embedded itself in the back of his head. She stared with wide-eyed disbelief at the body of the man, and then at the man who was apparently Milo when he was shot clean off his horse.

Terror renewed, thinking that her rescuer may also come to be the death of her, Evelyn returned to trying to tear her dress from the brambles. She looked up with wide light blue eyes at the stranger, trembling like a scared rabbit. She shook her head.

“N-no, I’m not alright,” she said, staring at him. Her hands fell to her sides, stopping her struggle. “Everyone I know is dead. My home is burnt to the ground. I was nearly just raped, and they used me for their amusement. And now, someone else saved me, probably only to kill me himself. Am I correct in that assumption?” She glared at the man, looking at the helpless tangle the hem of her dress was in with the briars. “I can’t even run without taking off my dress, but you’ll have shot me in the head before I even have the chance,” she mumbled, feeling resigned to her fate at this point. “Clearly, I was not meant to survive the day.”

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((OOC: A friend and I actually make chainmaille IRL. We make jewlery and right now we're working on a big project involving a bikini top and a skirt thing.))

((OOC - I want pics!))

The man drew a finely crafted steel sword as the last of the sun disappeared under the horizon. "If that's how you feel about," he said nonchalantly and in two short strokes freed her dress from the briars.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he explained himself. "I saw the smoke to east and was going to investigate when I saw you and your now deceased friends."

He turned to one of the bandit's horses and took hold of its reins. "Can you ride? I mean to see if there are any survivors."

Evenlyn flinched, expecting her end and instead finding herself freed. The only damage was to her dress. She looked down at it, then back up at him. “Um. Thank you.” She nodded, stepping forward and mounting the horse easily, ignoring the fact that she was sitting improperly, with her skirt hiked up her legs. “Yes, I can ride,” she said from the horse’s back.

She rubbed the back of her neck, watching him. He was like no one she had seen before. Everything he owned seemed to be incredibly ornate. Evelyn assumed that he must be incredibly wealthy. She sighed, turning her horse towards the village with ease. “We can go look, but I’m fairly certain there are no survivors. They were very thorough. And the bandits might still be lingering, waiting for their leader.” She pointed to the man with the arrow sticking out of the back of his head.

He only made a quick glance at her legs before returning to the corpses before them.

"If you're sure of what you're saying then there's only one thing to do." He quickly mounted his steed and turned west. "We have get moving now. Stay with me and you'll be safe. We have a long night's ride ahead of us." As an afterthought he added, "By the way, my name's Ian - Ian Doyle." With that they were off.

It was not until Midnight that he slowed his horse from the half-gallop they were on for hours and found a place to camp. There were several large trees whose leaves nearly blocked out the moon completely.

"We should be safe here," he told her as he dismounted. He then helped her down from from her horse and sat down against one of the trees.

"I regret to say I left all my camping gear behind when I went to save you, so you'll have to try and get some sleep the way you are, and whatever you do, stay close to me."

There was no time for response before he was taking off. Evelyn pushed her borrowed horse after his. By the time they dismounted. Her lithe body was sore and tired. The events of the day, the stress, plus the long, hard ride certainly took their toll. She dismounted and stretched her arms over her head.

It was pitch dark where they had stopped. Evelyn could barely see as she stumbled her way over to where Ian was sitting, against a tree. Slowly, wincing because of her soreness, she lowered herself beside him. “My name is Evelyn,” she told him, looking at her hands.

Throughout the whole ride, she had been trying hard not to think about everything. About what had happened, about her situation now. But now, as they were sitting and not doing anything, Evelyn’s mind turned to her father, who was surely dead now. She closed her eyes tightly.

How had things gone so badly so quickly? She didn’t know this man, but he was her rescuer. Evelyn supposed that she now was indebted to him, at least a little. He had saved her life, after all. She glanced over at him and sighed. “Of course I’ll stay close to you. Where else am I going to go?

Sleeping was rough and short - something Ian had much experience with but never got used to. As the sun crept up over the horizon, the sound of the birds woke him up. Standing up was painful due to stiffness all around. He stretched himself out, trying to work out all the kinks before retrieving the horses.

Unfortunately, the late bandit's horse was devoid of all provisions. His horse, however, had a few apples he had picked yesterday. He fished two of them out and tossed one into Evelyn's lap.

"Time to wake up!" he called out to her. "It's a two-day ride to Port Avur, and we may still have those thugs looking for us."

Evelyn started, waking suddenly. She sat up, groaning as she stretched. For a moment, she was a little bit disoriented. After a moment or two, she remembered where she was. Ian threw an apple into her lap and she picked it up, polishing it on the bodice of her dress and taking a big, hungry bite.

“Two more days,” she muttered, shaking her head. She wasn’t sure if she could take two more days on horseback. “Can we at least go a little bit more slowly than yesterday?” she asked around a mouthful of apple. Evelyn stood up and walked over to her borrowed horse. “I’d bet that we have at least something of a head start, right?” She leaned against the horse’s neck, rolling her shoulders. Her back was killing her. She took another bite of the apple, almost moaning. It was sweet and delicious and she was incredibly hungry.

"I had actually intended to," Ian replied and took a bite from his own apple. "We also won't be stopping for quite a distance, so if you have any business to attend to, do it now."

A few moments later, they were back in the saddle. The horses were allowed to simply walk along instead of the running of last night. There was no real hurry to escape from anyone, now.

Hours went by in silence. Ian wasn't sure what to say to her that would keep her from thinking of the life she just lost. He was unsure if there would be anything he could realy do, either. Still, she was a rather comely lady. As a village girl, housekeeping and cooking would be basic knowledge for her. Perhaps... He pushed the thought from his mind. They needed to get out of this forest first.

By mid-afternoon they arrived at a small stream. "We'll stop here." he told Evelyn. "The horse need watreing and time to graze." He handed her another apple from his bags. "We also need to find some for ourselves."

Evelyn nodded, walking off some distance. When she returned, she mounted up wordlessly. The silent riding was almost awkward. She tried not to think about much, but it was hard. She missed her father. Occasionally, she glanced over at Ian, wondering what his story was. Where had he come from? And why had he rescued her?

They stopped and Evelyn dismounted, leading her horse over to the stream and letting him drink. She took the apple and nodded, immediately taking a bite. “Yes, I don’t think I can survive on apples alone,” she said with a small, hesitant smile.

He took his gauntlets off and took a waterskin from th other saddlebag, then proceeded to fill it with water from the stream. Once full he dipped his hands in the stream and proceeded to wash his face off.

He turned to his new companion. "You might want to get yourself cleaned up a bit while I look for food." With that, he grabbed his bow and arrow and the search began.

It did not take long for him to find a groundhog and kill it. another fifteen minutes of searching found him a few more apples within arm's reach. Satisfied by what he gathered, he headed back to where he left Evelyn.

Evelyn nodded. She waited until he had disappeared, then eyed the stream, wondering if he would be gone long enough for her to bathe in it. She figured he probably would. She would just hang out behind a tree that hung low enough in the water.

She pulled her dress off, quickly scrubbing it and then laying it on a large rock to dry before going into the water. It was cold, but she quickly got used to it, scrubbing her body and her hair and then climbing out of the water. Shivering, she pulled on her under-dress. The outer layer wasn’t entirely dry yet.

Deciding to attempt to be useful while her dress dried, she walked around the general area, collecting brush and such in case he wanted to make a fire. She made a small pile, then sat down on the rock, pulling her dress back on when it was mostly dry. Her hair hung damp around her face as she sat on the rock and waited patiently for her rescuer to return.

Ian returned to find a fire had been set up. "Oh good! It seems you already did that for me," he said as he tossed her one of the apples he harvested. He then unfastened and his cuirass, showing a fine but severely sweat-stained linen shirt. "I'll get to skinning this thing. Make sure that fire stays plenty hot."

In no more than ten minutes, the ground hog carcass was ready to be roasted. He handed it over to Evelyn saying, "Go ahead and get this started. I need to wash up."

He took off his shirt revealing a well-built, but badly scarred body. A dozen or so smaller scars with a much larger one marked his chest, placing bald spots in the light layer of hair. the rest of his torso and arms showed various smal and not-so-smal scars sacatterd throughout.

He knelt by the stream and splashed water all over himself, trying to get rid of some of the sweat. Afterwards, he put his shirt back on and removed the rest of his armor, then went to check on dinner.

Evelyn smiled brightly, pleased that she had pleased him.” She took the apple, her third in the day, but she wasn’t complaining..She took a bite and nodded obediently, returning her eyes to the crackling fire. By the time the hog was ready to be cooked, she had finished her apple. She set about setting it up and had the thing roasting in no time.

When Ian took off his shirt, she couldn’t help but stare. He was very muscular, but covered with scars. Curiosity made her wonder where they came from. Evelyn glanced up when he came back to the fire. “It’s almost ready to eat,” she said quietly. “You know, I can wash your shirt for you, if you like.” She looked up at him. “I washed my dress while you were gone.”

"Really?" Ian asked her. "I don't know how well you'll be able to wash mine. I've pretty much worn it all week." He took his shirt back off and handed it to her. "You can still try if you want. I'll watch the dinner."

He sat down and stoked the fire a bit, watching how well the groundhog was cooking. After a moment he watcged her as she tried to wash his shirt.

She definitely had the skils of a homemaker. He decided he would definitely ask her when safety was assured.

Evelyn nodded, taking the shirt and trying not to stare, mostly out of respect and partially out of embarrassment. She walked over to the creek, kneeling on a rock and scrubbing at the sweat-stained shirt. By the time she was done, it was at least better than it had been before. A bit less smelly.

She spread it out on the same rock her dress had been on and walked back over to Ian, sitting beside him. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait until it dries,” she told him. She pulled her knees to her chest, staring at the fire. “It’s better than it was,” Evelyn added.

"Thank you," Ian said quietly and went back to cooking the meat. About an hour later, the meat was finally ready. Since his knife was back at his abandoned campground he had to make do carving it with his sword.

"Groundhogs don't make the best of meat,"he told her. "But it's still worth eating. We're going to have to eat them by hand, so jus tear a piece off and eat it that way."

As they were eating, a new question popped up in heis head. I may have been a bad time to ask it, but he needed to know. "Tell me Evelyn, is there anyone you can go to after this is over? Friends? Relatives?"

Evelyn nodded, taking part of the meat and tearing it apart, trying to eat it in the least messy way possible. She glanced up as he spoke, face falling. Evelyn looked down at her food.

“No. There’s no one,” she admitted, taking another bite. She chewed slowly, sky blue eyes faraway, thoughtful. “My mother died a long time ago. My father is dead now, too. All other relatives are long gone, and all family friends died yesterday.” She looked over at Ian, silently sad for a moment before standing.

“Your shirt is probably dry,” she said. It was true, but also an excuse to walk away for a moment and compose herself. She picked up the shirt, which was, indeed, dry, and brought it back, handing it over to him. “So, yes. I’m completely alone, now,” Evelyn added. She looked down at him for a moment before sitting again, just beside him. “Why?”

"I've fought against bandits many times," he replied. "I have seen the devastation their kind kind can bring. Burning, raping, pillaging - destroying the hopes of the survivors so utterly, that they may actually have been better off dead." He gave a heavy sigh as he put his shirt back on. "This was by far the most devastating attack any of them have ever committed." He turned to look at her with sympathetic eyes. "I just wanted to know if there was something they didn't manage to take away."

He hoped his explanation was enough and continued eating.

Evelyn nodded. She went silent for a little while, then randomly looked up at him again, after ten or fifteen minutes. “My life,” she said, staring at him intently. “They didn’t manage to take away my life. Isn’t that something important?” She reached over and touched his shoulder, smiling, then dropped her hand and looked away.

“So, is that how you got all of those scars?” Evelyn asked lightly. She didn’t look up from her food, intending on eating all of the meat he gave her, even if it wasn’t that great tasting. “Fighting bandits?”

"Yeah, I guess that's important," Ian replied, surprised at the resolve this girl showed him. Not once did she break down and cry. Not once did she panic. She was definitely raised strong-willed.

At her question about his scars, "A few of them, but most are from learning things the hard way." He popped one last bit of meat in his mouth and continued. "I'm an adventurer by trade. I go places where most people won't dare even think about. I also undertake almost anything people are willing to pay me for. Most of my adventures have been very dangerous, and most of the things I learned about the business I learned the had way. Fortunately it has been very profitable."

He got up and found a nice flat place and layed down on his side. "If we get up early and stop for nothing, we'll be able to reach Port Avur before sundown. Then we can alert the authorities of what happened. Good night."