The Bizarre Adventures of a Half-Elf

Misunderstandings

**Slight trigger warning for loss and depression. It's nothing too graphic, but just prepare yourself for the feels. 

Charlotte shot up with a start, reflexively reaching for a weapon. Her hand found the hilt of her dagger, and she whipped it out in front of her before stopping short at the throat of one of the field clerics. 

"Bloody hells, would you put that down before you kill somebody?" They eeked out, raising their hands up. After registering that she wasn't in any danger, the rogue quickly let the blade drop to the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled to the cleric, who backed-stepped away.

Timoré's mirthless chuckle made its way to her ears. "Still ready to slice someone up, I see." Charlotte turned to see the mage sitting on the grass not far from her, drinking out of a waterskin. The clerics and healers hadn't moved anybody to the chapel, and, instead, had set up a makeshift healing area alongside the field, presumably because of how many people were in need of healing. But, looking the Human over, he seemed relatively unscathed.

"Did... did we win?" Charlotte hesitantly asked. 

He was mid-swig when his eyes widened and he almost spit out what he had in his mouth. After swallowing the liquid, he sputtered out, "Gods, no! It was a massacre."

She tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you seem fine then?"

"I surrendered," he replied with a shrug. 

"What? Why?"

"I was severely outnumbered. There wasn't much that I could do, and I didn't feel like getting stabbed."

"Lucky you." Charlotte looked around for more people she knew. Most of them seemed to be mending fine, except... Cka'a! A little ways away, the Spriggan sat with Vayreni, one of their arms ending at the elbow in a stump. The rogue stood, wincing from the bruises that still hadn't healed, and began to make her way over to the duo.

When she grew closer, Vayreni and Cka'a looked up at her. "Ah, Charlotte. We are glad to see you healed," the Plant-Folk gave a weak attempt at a smile. 

"What... what happened?" Charlotte spluttered, "I thought you were a sideline healer!"

Vayreni sighed, "They were supposed to be."

"But then we saw you get attacked by the Ra'Neca," Cka'a defended themself, "And we knew that was illegal. If the attendants didn't care about that, then they wouldn't care about us switching to a combatant to save Vayreni."

"But your arm," the rogue motioned sadly toward the mutilated limb.

"Will grow back," they assured, "In the meantime, we will be fighting with you in the next battle."

Charlotte gave Vayreni a look, and the brawler could only shrug, "It was the only way that I could get them to surrender. Otherwise they could have been hurt worse."

"Did the attendants or lords say anything about the double-crossing?" The Half-Elf asked. 

They nodded, and Vayreni filled her in, "Yes. The head attendant said that any Cornello fighter who turned against their own this battle must sign the Maritassi roster immediately and change sides. The next battle will continue tomorrow at noon, and any late additions must be accounted for in advance. Anyone who jumps in or changes sides in the middle of the next battle with be forced out and not allowed back."

Charlotte ground her teeth together. "So they're just going to let this treachery stand."

Cka'a nodded. "Apparently it was good entertainment for the onlookers."

The dual-wielder closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. "That's why I hate these things," she said, before opening her eyes again. Her gaze fell on Lady Clara, who was speaking with Lord Maritassi. Behind them, Veerle, Oberon, Phengtooth, Leo Alexander, and Lydia waited obediently. Charlotte's fists clenched. She was about to march over there, when she saw Timoré casually approach. He appeared to say a few words to the group as a whole, before the Lord nodded and departed, and Clara began to lead him to her private awning.