02-01-2017, 07:31 PM
Carmelita had decided that when in Camelot, do as they do. Or at least, that was her excuse for not summoning the patrol car and instead summoning a steed right from the time of Sir Galeth Cooper, and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that the fact that a horse could move as fast as a car had been bugging her ever since she’d read the fact on the Dataverse.
Of course, her summon was a living animal, and perhaps she had not thought that through. Upon getting the horse to trot, the roar of some wild beast near the edge of the main road sent her mount haring off through the fields towards a small copse of trees, the vixen struggling just to stay in the saddle.
By the time the horse had reached the treeline, Carmelita had decided that yes, the rumors were true, and no, she was not going to be repeating the experiment. Leaving the horse behind, the woman proceeded to orient herself towards the grand medieval city in the near distance and begin walking, hoping to strike the road soon so as to avoid driving over more of the agriculture.
It was roughly half an hour into this walk when she crested a ridge in time to see a collection of horsemen travelling along a small trail. That on its own would not have been enough to give her pause, were it not for the person with a bag over their head, arms tied and horse led. Activating her cloak, Carmelita travelled along the ridge to where the path led up the hill, waiting silently for the group to reach the top of the rise.
“Did you see how much gold that butcher had hidden away in his loft? I can’t wait to spend my share.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it three times now? I get it Teeth, you’re proud for finding the biggest stash in the village, but if you don’t shut your mouth I’ll do it for you.”
“What, like you did to that old crone who managed to beat you over the head with a broom until Longshanks stepped in to save you?”
The two front horsemen continued to bicker as they approached the ridge, leaving Carmelita no illusion as to who these people were. Bandits, scourge of the medieval life. While she reckoned she could probably take three at a time, this many of them would quickly surround her and cut her down to size, assuming they didn’t leverage the hostage they had with them. Instead, it looked like she’d have to be more subtle.
She slipped one of her STAPLER traps out of her belt and found a suitable spot to plant it in the dirt. The constricting trap set and waiting, she began walking down the hill, making sure she had a clear run at the mount on which the hostage sat. Patiently, she timed the front horse as it neared the trap.
“Look, just accept that I am luckier than you, and I’ll shut up.”
“I keep hearing you yammering Teeth, and if you weren’t my brother I’d-”
The hooves of the horse came down, and the STAPLER sprung into action. The STAPLER, an abbreviation of Steel-Titanium Anti-Personnel Lockdown Electric Restraint, had not received an official field test until this point, and Carmelita was not displeased with its result.
Great spools of metal sprang from the small disk, entangling the mount and rider in the wires. Their cries of surprise quickly changed to cries of pain as electric currents began shocking them both, though the mild amount of damage to their nervous systems did nothing but spur them on to writhing and fighting against their bindings with greater ferocity. Comically, this led to them toppling slowly onto their side, exposing the base of the trap.
The pratfall seemed to spur the bandits from their shock, but not before Carmelita had taken the opportunity she had arranged. Darting forwards, no-one noticed the invisible woman mount the hostage’s horse, nor hear the quiet words she muttered into their ears.
“Stay quiet. I’m here to help, but we can’t risk moving too quickly. Act naturally.”
Whether or not the girl listened to her wasn’t immediately clear, but as the bandits searched the surroundings for any ambushers lying in wait it didn’t seem as though she was going to reveal Carmelita’s presence just yet. Eventually a man named Scar found the switch on the base of the trap that deactivated it, turning it into unusable scrap and leaving the rider and his horse to scramble shakily to their feet.
Scar, apparently the leader of the ragtag group, eventually called off the search, though he insisted that each of the bandits should stick in pairs and keep an eye out for anyone in the bushes. This suited Carmelita just fine as she sat on the hostage's horse in the middle of the bunch invisible and, hopefully, undetectable.
Of course, her summon was a living animal, and perhaps she had not thought that through. Upon getting the horse to trot, the roar of some wild beast near the edge of the main road sent her mount haring off through the fields towards a small copse of trees, the vixen struggling just to stay in the saddle.
By the time the horse had reached the treeline, Carmelita had decided that yes, the rumors were true, and no, she was not going to be repeating the experiment. Leaving the horse behind, the woman proceeded to orient herself towards the grand medieval city in the near distance and begin walking, hoping to strike the road soon so as to avoid driving over more of the agriculture.
It was roughly half an hour into this walk when she crested a ridge in time to see a collection of horsemen travelling along a small trail. That on its own would not have been enough to give her pause, were it not for the person with a bag over their head, arms tied and horse led. Activating her cloak, Carmelita travelled along the ridge to where the path led up the hill, waiting silently for the group to reach the top of the rise.
“Did you see how much gold that butcher had hidden away in his loft? I can’t wait to spend my share.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it three times now? I get it Teeth, you’re proud for finding the biggest stash in the village, but if you don’t shut your mouth I’ll do it for you.”
“What, like you did to that old crone who managed to beat you over the head with a broom until Longshanks stepped in to save you?”
The two front horsemen continued to bicker as they approached the ridge, leaving Carmelita no illusion as to who these people were. Bandits, scourge of the medieval life. While she reckoned she could probably take three at a time, this many of them would quickly surround her and cut her down to size, assuming they didn’t leverage the hostage they had with them. Instead, it looked like she’d have to be more subtle.
She slipped one of her STAPLER traps out of her belt and found a suitable spot to plant it in the dirt. The constricting trap set and waiting, she began walking down the hill, making sure she had a clear run at the mount on which the hostage sat. Patiently, she timed the front horse as it neared the trap.
“Look, just accept that I am luckier than you, and I’ll shut up.”
“I keep hearing you yammering Teeth, and if you weren’t my brother I’d-”
The hooves of the horse came down, and the STAPLER sprung into action. The STAPLER, an abbreviation of Steel-Titanium Anti-Personnel Lockdown Electric Restraint, had not received an official field test until this point, and Carmelita was not displeased with its result.
Great spools of metal sprang from the small disk, entangling the mount and rider in the wires. Their cries of surprise quickly changed to cries of pain as electric currents began shocking them both, though the mild amount of damage to their nervous systems did nothing but spur them on to writhing and fighting against their bindings with greater ferocity. Comically, this led to them toppling slowly onto their side, exposing the base of the trap.
The pratfall seemed to spur the bandits from their shock, but not before Carmelita had taken the opportunity she had arranged. Darting forwards, no-one noticed the invisible woman mount the hostage’s horse, nor hear the quiet words she muttered into their ears.
“Stay quiet. I’m here to help, but we can’t risk moving too quickly. Act naturally.”
Whether or not the girl listened to her wasn’t immediately clear, but as the bandits searched the surroundings for any ambushers lying in wait it didn’t seem as though she was going to reveal Carmelita’s presence just yet. Eventually a man named Scar found the switch on the base of the trap that deactivated it, turning it into unusable scrap and leaving the rider and his horse to scramble shakily to their feet.
Scar, apparently the leader of the ragtag group, eventually called off the search, though he insisted that each of the bandits should stick in pairs and keep an eye out for anyone in the bushes. This suited Carmelita just fine as she sat on the hostage's horse in the middle of the bunch invisible and, hopefully, undetectable.