Location: Maradon, Saldaea
Being pulled down from the saddle now standing on her own two feet reaching for her throwing knife in a hidden space of her riding boot to fight for herself the voice of a man yelling at the four men made her pause. With three changing their focus to the stranger the lady grinned slightly. "What is so funny hmmm?" Choosing to answer with action and not words she stepped hard on his foot so his grip on her arms weakened enough to free herself. Turning around, Lady Bashere did what most men hated to experience or watch for that matter... Kneeing his balls, driving them into his pelvis with a loud angry groan coming from the leader as he bent over in pain. Making quick to grab the woman by the wrist and pull her to him which whispering in pain to her ear fighting her struggles. "Oh so you want to get him involved in this too woman? Well....for that I'll make sure to have you running back to your father lord torn and bleeding!!"
Waiting for his men to get rid of the stranger was failing before his eyes...grabbing a blade from his hip as it pressed against her throat. Setsara holding very still with her eyes looking to the stranger, then her arrows strapped to the saddle, and back to the stranger when something warm near her shoulder and the man screaming made her look to see the flame searing his skin and flee into the allies behind.
"Bloody women, you always tend to get me into trouble and make me act stupid. Would bloody serve you well if I just let those guys flaming have ya for a few..."
Fire in her eyes as she heard the man say such things about not just a woman...but a Saldaea at that!! Not giving a moments thought, noticing when he first approached that his shoulder had been cut from the fight. Setsara grabbed his bicep Hard, turning this fool to expose his back and with her right hand balled into a fist... PUNCHED! The wounded shoulder hard enough that followed with a hook of her foot sweeping his leg back forcing a man to his knees. Gripping his face by the chin forcing the swearing fool to stare at her face when she pulled back the hood entirely.
"How dare you...how DARE you! Never does anyone talk about a Saldaea woman that way!! You have not been in my father's area of reign under the Queen long enough to know who I AM!! " Speaking in a deeper voice, lowering the volume so only he may hear...
"I am Lady Setsara Bashere...second in line for the throne and daughter of the Head of House Lord Bashere whos land your ashed feet step on!"
Pushing him hard onto his back she covered her hair and face with her hood before anyone could see who she was and quickly jumped into the saddle of her steed. Applying pressure on his sides to walk a few paces beside the man....
"I an however grateful for you coming in and saving my life... I am one to my word and as such, I bring the offer for you to accompany me to Kayacun away from my father and that is reason enough for my leave. That shoulder would do well with a few stitches I can provide as well when we stop... Since you made it clear that you desire to stay low this looks like your best option sir... Come now what is your answer for I am NOT patient with little time for me to leave."
Setsara heard the booming voice of the one named Garim, looking up to the skies as the voice continued. He himself claiming to be the Dragon Reborn. Such words over displayed by power made her smirk and shake her head. No...no he certainly wasn't the Dragon Reborn..she'd say so out loud if only there wasn't other more important matters at hand with waiting for this stupid fool to utter enough words on whether he would come with or not.
Bran grumbled as he got to his feet. Great. Not just a woman, but a bloody flaming noblewoman! He thought to himself. "Well excuse me, my lord lady," he said in a mocking tone, "or whatever is bloody proper with you people. Maybe next time someone will just let you get your neck slit, see if that fits into your flaming schedule. And the last thing I need is a headache from traveling with some light-blasted noblewoman telling me how to walk, dress, or how to bloody lace my boots." He then pointed at the inn down the road. "You see that inn right there? I am going to go in there, get drunk-stupid, and play dice til I wake up the next morning with some serving girl much uglier than the one I went to bed with in the first place."
Just then, he saw three guards walk into the inn and he hid behind the Setsara's horse. "Blood and bloody ashes," he said irritably. "I get plenty of luck with the dice, but that where all seems to go cause bloody well have none anywhere else." He then sighed. "Fine then. I leave the town with you. But first small town we come to, and bloody mark me on this, I am going to find some small dirty tavern and forget I ever met ya." He then looked up at her, resignation touching his eyes. "Do you have hooded cloak by any chance?"
"Then we are in agreement...stranger that loves to put hoof to mouth..." Reaching back to her saddle bags she tossed him over a very well made hooded cloak and some gauze to press to the wound until they could stop for the night. If they stopped at all considering she lost valuable time with the cut-purses and this man who thought he was all 'high and mighty drinking lord'. Riding out of town now two to the run away party, Setsara and Bran traveled for miles. Her bow secured to the saddle and throwing knives strapped to a belt around her waist. She kept a keen eye for strange shadows in the night....her steed moving forward as it had been heavily trained to do no matter what may be going on around them.
It was late into the night when they finally stopped far enough away from the road so that their small fire wouldn't be detected by travelers. The groans and grumbles from him about his shoulder were getting unbearable but she was one to her word...so all she could hope for was that the next village came sooner than later for her own flaming sanity's sake!
"Hold still!" she hissed at him using the firelight to stitch the slash in his shoulder with a experienced hand for the task. Having helped stitch up far worse wounds than this. The biggest problem was Bran who kept flinching every time the needle pierce healthy flesh which was a necessary part of the process. "You are such a boy with this...hold still or I'm slapping your head again!"
Bran Grunted. "Well I wouldn't flinch if you knew how to work a needle properly. Like you're trying to patch up a bloody horse!" As they sat by the fire, travelers could be heard talking along the road as they passed them, unaware of their presence. They were talking about the Dragon Reborn being in Maradon and how they planned to follow him. Bran shook his head. "Bloody idiots. I don't know who's dumber, Garim for thinking he's the Dragon or the saps choosing to follow him." He then shook his head as he took a bite of dried meat and a drink of water.
"So he was born in some old mountains, lots of people were born there, they trying to repopulate it! And the Stone of Tear cracks around his birthday. Anyone man who can channel, and some women even, could've gotten mad and cracked that old rock. Hell as old as it is, some kid playing with a hammer could've cracked it." He then searched his belts for a small pouch of tobac and a pipe. "Trolloc raids increase and everyone suddenly becomes gullible. They are probably almost all dead and are just getting desperate finally. I'll say it again, and if you have any sense in that pretty little head of yours you'll agree with me. The world isn't ending, no Dark One is rising from Shayul Gul, and no bloody Dragon is being reborn. I'll stake my left hand on it."
"Hmmmm..... seems like even we can agree on something as soon as that voice came out around us I knew it wasn't the Dragon Reborn.... He wouldn't have projected himself like this if it were true. The darkness is rising up and they are desperate that's all it is." Lightly patting his good shoulder as she was done, Setsara got up washed the blood from her hands and only ate a little bread and dried meat before laying down her bed roll. Horse cobbled so he can graze close by the only words exchanged were ones for a good nights rest. Laying down on her side, her back to the fire, Lady Bashere started to drift into sleep choosing not to recount the events of the day as she usually did. Tomorrow they'd have to travel far and sleep was required to do such....plain and simple as the side of her body rose and fell to her sleeping breaths.
Bran stayed up for a while longer after the girl went to sleep. Being stuck with a noble wasn't his idea of good time, even if this one had a few more wits about her than most other nobles he had met. Only a few more, mind you. Women are enough trouble as it is, but a bloody noblewoman was sure to give him no end of grief. But at least she was pretty to look at, and he was sure as hell bloody sober, though tonight of all nights he wish he had a good jug of ale or whiskey to drink. Bloody nobles, she probably has more shoes than the whole next village they visit, one for each time of each day of the week. Half her saddle bags were probably nothing but dresses, shoes, and makeup. Well, if she thought Bran was gonna lift a finger to help her carry any of those, she bloody had another thing coming.
As people gathered around the man who had proclaimed himself as the Dragon Reborn, Lord Lornius Bashere, head of the Bashere house and first in line for the throne of Saldaea paced back and forth in his dining hall as he wondered where his daughter was. She should have been there over an hour ago for dinner. As soon as the door opened and his lead guard came into the room, Bashere turned to him quickly. "Where in the bloody Light is my daughter," he exclaimed sharply at the man.
The guard stiffened slightly under Lornius' ice cold gaze. "My lord, she was seen sneaking out of the city by a few of my eyes and ears. She was almost mugged, but someone came to her aid, though it is speculated he is just another vagrant wanting her for himself. We think he might have taken her away out of the city." The man than held up a large sack and pulled out the head of the man who held a knife to Setsara's throat. "This is the leader of the men who assaulted her first. We got a good description out of him. it appears to be the man who escaped from the jail early tonight." The guard than held up a poster with the Bran's face on it.
Bashere threw his glass of wine against the wall, his face red with anger. "Get Nira Sedai to make as many copies as she can quickly. I want the town papered with that bastard's face within the hour! Ten thousand crowns gold for my daughter's return and his head on a spike! Twenty thousand if they bring him back alive so can I deal with him myself! Well? What are you standing there for? Move it! Or I'll see you're head next to his!"
The guard shivered a bit then. "Y-yes my l-lord. I will get right on it." he then bolted out of the room and within twenty minutes, dozens of posters with Bran's face were being posted around the city.