Time: An hour and a half after subduing the local bandits.
Location: The base of a hill, below a ruined, but newly renovated fort.
This is supposedly the new home of the Bear Lord and his brigade of cutthroats. The walls are wooden stakes, the replaced sections a pale discolouration in the drab grey of the old, dry timber. I consider fire as an opening move as the 'Art of War' suggests, to distract, confuse and terrify but think better of it. Whatever I could light they could extinguish with manpower.
Because they are many. I'm actually surprised by the numbers, I had been expecting maybe in the range of fifty. It was roughly seven hundred. These men often served as mercenaries, when they could earn loot in war… otherwise this leader reverted to tyrant.
Yes, I learned that tiny town I had stayed in would be raided, their food stores emptied and any that resisted put to the sword.
Which made my next choice easier.
Marching into the centre of the fortress, with my four bandit prisoner/guides at my heels.
It is the year 622 AD. Some seventy years since the 'death' of Attila (Vandal Savage). Some centuries before he takes up the guise of Genghis Khan. Chivalry doesn't even exist as a concept yet. It is the Dark Ages.
A time of warlords and petty kings, confusion and chaos.
My village has peace… but for only as long as these lawless men allow it. Soon enough they will pull out their knives for the slaughter.
Well, I have one thing to say in that regard. "Come out, oh Lord of Bears." I announce from their courtyard. "I challenge you!"
I hold my face composed, as I seriously sweat under the facade. If they wanted to, this band could attempt to overwhelm me in sheer weight of numbers. So I had to make this a battle on my terms.
Interestingly, the loot I could see stacked in out of the way places was predominantly Roman in origin. I knew for a fact this was well after the attempted sacking of Rome by the hordes of Attila. So these fellows were involved in that bloody conflict or subsequent raids into Holy or Western Roman Empire territory. Which brought an unlikely supposition to mind. Attila is Vandal Savage. He did not die because he cannot, but left his empire to crumble beneath the ambitions of his sons. So where would a tyrant to end all tyrants, set up camp if he wished to avoid having his failure rubbed in his nose? To hide from the world before rising again, as a conqueror? Some tiny fortress in the middle of a nation with no ties to his attempted conquests. It is still centuries before he becomes Genghis Khan… I can't be that lucky/unlucky right?
The entire band of cutthroats emerges to look, their scouts had warned of approaching men but it seemed they assumed it was merely their usual raiders returning home.
The crowd parts and a man taller than the others draped with a brown, furred cloak emerged. His face obscured by the skull mask made of a bear's head. Yes, that would be the 'Bear Lord'.
"Come, fight me you pathetic wretch!" I yell. Disgracing their leader before them would be adequate to my needs. If I ruin his credibility and the faith of his followers in his skills, I might be able to scare them off.
"Grin." The skull-masked man spoke. "Bring me the upstart's broken body."
A huge, bare chested man walked forward hefting a maul. Most likely, this was his most trusted lieutenant.
"Grin, is it?" I asked and he nodded as he came closer. "It was nice to meet you. Goodbye."
I hurled the Archer's knife, sending it curving so while it seemed to be a near miss it struck deeply into his neck. The massive man stumbled as he grasped at the injury in confusion, since he was certain he had leaned out of the way. He turned red in the face and then screamed in outrage. What? Is this a barbarian class from D&D? Fine. So you're harder to kill than normal.
I nocked an arrow and put it right between his eyes.
He dropped like a stone after that.
"I said you are a weakling, bear-faced coward!" I yelled at the bear skin cloaked man.
"Enough of this. Whoever brings me his head, keeps his loot." The Skull-faced man announced.
Five leapt forward in a sprint, hungrier than the rest who idled about to watch the show. Five men who all gained an arrow to the knee, causing them to tumble to the ground and the crowd to murmur.
The four men I had captured, were secretly pleased by this outcome. They took the scene as vindication of their defeat. Perhaps, they hoped to use this to their advantage in the aftermath, if they survived.
"As long as I have arrows, you will not defeat me." I proclaimed, lying.
"Send him all the arrows he needs. Ready and… launch!" The Bear Lord replied, his scouts and several in the crowd drawing bows and firing.
As they halted in the air in front of me, I reached out and took one. "Many thanks, now I have refilled my quiver!" I mocked.
Shouts of demon and spirit were heard and the crowd muttered. Seeing my power for the first time, they were intimidated, the more superstitious making gestures to ward off evil.
"I come for you, Defiler!" I pointed at the skull-face, playing the outraged supernatural being. "Come, fight me!"
"All of you kill this warlock!" The response came.
And just with those words his entire support crumbled. Only a handful moved to engage only to stop as my arrows turned to point their way in the air. It seemed his constant refusal to fight had finally eroded the trust his followers had for him.
He seemed insulted by this, radiating anger as he drew a broadsword from beneath the cloak.
I allowed him to come close.
"You are no spirit or god!" He hissed, behind his mask. "I will prove this with your bloody final moments as a helpless, limbless thing."
I choked back a laugh. "Says a man who is nothing special beneath his exterior." I grinned through the helmet on my face. "Still live like a bear, die like one. At the end of a hunter's spear!"
"You don't have a spear!" The man began to retort, swinging his sword. As I stopped and held his weapon motionless over his head, spears from the hands of the crowd flew out to surround him. His eyes widened and he let go of the weapon, leaping away as the spears lanced at him in all directions.
He was quite agile, damn DC and it's peak human capabilities. I had to work to actually hit him, a glancing strike catching his mask and pulling it free. Under the mask was surprisingly enough a vaguely familiar looking face.
"Vandal Savage." I declared. "Attila the failure."
He seemed to take this pronouncement as a spur because he pounced at me, bare hands open to grapple. To further annoy me, the spears which managed to strike him in this charge slid off the cloak he wore. Enchanted? Armour hidden underneath?
Whichever was the case, my hammer did the job. As I smashed him in the ribs. The spears, useless in piercing his protection made a perfect way to push him off balance in the crucial moment and right into my strike. He doubled up, clutching his chest and spitting blood. I followed this with a strike on his exposed head and he dropped, temporarily dead. Hmph. You may be immortal, you're still just barely above human in capability.
The bandits had held their breath, the crowd seeming to realise I had become a very real threat. One they hesitated to anger.
Vandal twitched, probably regenerating. With a flick my hammer flew into the air from my hand and then hurtled down, pick first into his skull with a crunch. I held it there, hopefully this should keep him quiet until I can devise a more permanent solution.
In the meantime, the broadsword of Savage hovered at my side.
"Take your money, your food and scram! Leave this land, it is mine! There is nothing here but death for your kind in my homeland!" I roared. "Follow them, and I will not harm you either." I added to my captives. "But for now, take me to his room!" I point to Savage.
The bandits part for me to pass, all except one who tried to drive a knife in my ribs in close quarters. I see him coming and he only manages to run himself through on Savage's sword a step away from his objective.
"Fool." I say, as the sword rips free and follows me as I leave, like a loyal bodyguard.
Savage's room is draped with velvet and piled high with gold and gems. On the bed covered by silk sheets are three gorgeous women in chains. Yes, this would be how Savage spends his downtime. My business portfolio is spread out on a desk, from the looks of things he must have been attempting to understand it. He seems to have thought it was written in code, in a form of latin. English isn't a written language yet, after all.
Good, while it was only copies and proposals, that kind of thing could have been dangerous.
My clothes are here as well, but I leave my bag of toiletries behind. They have cro-magnon on them. The women are grateful for their freedom but remain with me, since they fear what the other bandits might do to them.
Returning to the (temporary) corpse of Savage I check his body for unusual objects. A stone talisman and my red kryptonite amulet are the most notable. The talisman though, is new. It doesn't look like a spell I have seen in Louise's books. She might get something out of this. The bear cloak itself has a spell inscribed on the inside in silver thread. The same armour enhancement charm Louise showed in her demonstration to the French security bigwigs. So Savage had an enchanter in his employ at some point?
I wait until the bandits file out, one struggling to cart away a marble bust of Julius Caesar for some unknown reason.
"He thinks it is a god. He worships it." One of the bandits explained.
Welp, ignoring that for my own sanity.
They leave in a steady stream toward the west and central Europe.
I return to the fortress and inspect it. Eventually finding a weak point.
With a brace of axes I weaken the structure, kicking Savage's body under it before collapsing the entire building onto him.
"See you in a few dozen centuries, asshole."