The Bizarre Adventures of a Half-Elf

14. Sanctuary

**Warning: A brief mention of slavery right at the beginning, and some depictions of a gross wound at the end. 

The leader of the Black Skulls let out an "oof" as the heavy blade collided with him, and he fell back hard.

Charlotte panicked, seeing as her swing had not landed nearly as high as his face, which was where she was originally aiming. His armor had taken the brunt of the blow, but it had still stunned him, so she quickly grabbed all the equipment out of the cart as she could.

Lydia did the same, before both of them took off running down the hill and making for the forest. She could hear the leader yelling behind them, calling for the other bandits. 

The Half-Elf was running much slower than normal, due to her injured leg and the burden of the reclaimed arms and armor. Soon shadowy figures began catching up to them, grunting and breathing heavily. She couldn't tell if they were friend or foe, and so she kept running, letting pieces of equipment fall from her grip.

The unseen persons were starting to circle around, when Charlotte's foot caught on something. Her momentum carried her forward as she fell, and threw her arms up to catch herself.  

She collided hard with the ground nonetheless, skidding along the rough ground. 

"Charlotte!" Lydia called out. 

The Half-Elf slowly pushed herself up, tasting blood in her mouth. Footsteps grew closer to her, and there was an "I'm sorry!" from Lydia as the Woad Elf fled. 

"Get that one, I'll take care of her," the leader growled from somewhere behind Charlotte.

The rogue scrambled forward, trying to pull herself upright. But the fall must have ripped open the bandage around her thigh, because it flared in pain, causing her to stumble back to her knees.

Someone grabbed her ankle, and she yelled, "No, no... Get away from me!"

"Hold. Still!" The leader grunted, trying to drag her back. But Charlotte wasn't coming easily, rolling herself onto her back and twisting out of his grasp. She scooted herself backwards, trying to stand again.

But then something sharp went into her back. 

She gasped, looking down at her chest to see a sword tip poking through. 

"Dammit, Crusher! I told you to get the other one!"

"She was giving you too much trouble!"

"I'm the leader, and I give the orders!"

Meanwhile, Charlotte dropped to her hip, her vision blurring. Every inhale sent a razor through her chest, digging the sword in deeper. Then it was yanked out of her, and an unnatural wind moved through the gap in her body. 

She collapsed onto her back, her body heaving for air. The bandits were talking, but she could hardly hear them. 

The leader's face then came into view as he crouched over her. His hand came behind her head as he raised her up, and his other hand pressed something against her lips. 

Body temperature liquid rushed into her mouth, leaving a sickly-sweet taste on her tongue. Charlotte tried to cough, but didn't have the strength to resist him force feeding it to her. With little choice, she swallowed it down. When he finally pulled the bottle back, she coughed violently, spewing out dark liquid. 

"That should fix you up. Can't sell you if you're dead." He let the explanation hang in the air, beginning to turn around while placing the bottle back into his coat.

Charlotte breathed heavily, focused on regaining her breath as the health draught mended her chest. Pushing away heaviness in her limbs, she crawled forward, grasping for any kind of weapon that she may have dropped.

Her hand closed on the handle of a mace, and she swung wide, cracking it down hard against the side of the bandit leader's knee. She heard bone shatter, and the man gave a squeal of pain as he dropped down to her level.

The Half-Elf raised the weapon above her head to come down for a killing blow, but he turned to grab her wrist, forcing her back. She struggled against him, but knew that he was stronger than her, especially in her weakened state.

Even still, she fought on, pulling in gasps of air through gritted teeth. She would not be be sold.

As she sank lower and lower into the ground, her arms began to shake from the pressure. Giving a scream, she pushed back with all her might–and nearly fell into the leader.

There was no more pressure, and he didn't react to her falling forward. His face was frozen in a state of exertion.

Charlotte stared at him in puzzlement, before a feminine figure slowly approached out of the dark.

"Hello, dear." Charlotte recognized the smug, knowing voice as Lady Clara.

Clara came to stand beside the leader and gently stroked the lengthy brown hair that hung underneath his hat. Charlotte didn't dare move.

"Ah, I've missed this one. I must thank you for trying to deal with his faction for me. He wasn't the brightest, as I'm sure you've figured out, but his persistence is annoying."

When the Half-Elf did not respond, the Lady suddenly stopped in her musing, her expression turning grimmer. "I would run while you still can."