drawsblood | { psl for choicely }

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[ He tells himself he's used to being alone; that it's not loneliness, but solitude. It's better for everyone if he just stays away from people because there's no telling when the spell on his mind might flare up and he'll go into a rage. But the problem with that is he wants to be cured of this, and for that to happen, someone needs to cure him or at least point him in the direction of a cure. It means he has to interact with people at times in order to get information. Today is one such day, and after taking a potion that usually manages to keep the spell back, he asks around the nearest village for a magical healer. He's out of luck here, but Joric's luck is notoriously shitty so it doesn't surprise him.

Taking to the road, he heads off back into the wilderness. His thoughts drift to the potion he took and how he fears it's not as effective as it once was. Is he growing too used to it and it's no longer going to be enough in his travels? He hopes not, but again: shitty luck.

Joric's thoughts are interrupted by a disturbance up ahead. It sounds like a fight of some kind, and when he hears a woman's voice he slips his knapsack from his shoulder and draws his sword from his scabbard before rushing into a sprint to see what's going on. ]

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[ By the time Yennefer begins to realize that she should have paid for the additional presence to serve as her bodyguard, it's all too late for her to even so much as have regrets.

The bandits who have found her in the woods are clearly skilled — and knowledgeable, with enough awareness of her abilities as a channeler to quickly surprise her before she can make use of her hands. One grabs her wrists, forcing them behind her back even as she staggers down to her knees with a thinly stifled whimper of pain, while another proceeds to rifle through the pack that he's wrested from her shoulders, clearly looking to see whether she is in possession of any valuables.

The fact that she is traveling alone speaks to a lack thereof, but instead, Yennefer bites the inside of her cheek rather than say anything aloud. Besides, she's already working on how to get free, whispering softly under her breath to conjure a slight rustle in the branches of the trees overhead, instantly putting her captors on guard.

It may have been the wrong choice, because one of them unsheathes his dagger before leveraging its point underneath her throat, prompting her to stop altogether with a hiss of breath — but there is movement in the trees behind him, movement only she bears witness to, an approaching figure that his back is turned to while he's distracted with his threats. ]

[ It's a blessing that the potion he took still holds firm because as he appears at the scene he feels the magical rage press against the walls of his mind in an attempt to be unleashed. And if that monster is let loose he would be unable to tell the innocent from the guilty. Having his own mind for this encounter is necessary as he takes in what's happening within the blink of an eye and extends the tip of his sword towards the party. ]

Release her.

[ Voice low and dangerous, it's a warning that he won't hesitate to strike. ]

[ All at once, he stops becoming one with the dappled shadows cast by the trees and fills the space — a warrior, she thinks, not one who has been traveling with this other group. Judging by the way they instinctively shrink away in his presence, they don't know him, nor he they — so why would he be coming to her aid? He is unknown to her, but her deep violet gaze flickers over him regardless, right down to the determination in his eyes and the intent behind the leveraged point of that greatsword.

They might quail at first, but the bandits' leader recovers some bravado, making a display of straightening up and then spitting derisively on the ground. ]

Or, how 'bout we keep 'er? Been a while since we had a woman in our company. [ The lecherous grin on his face makes Yennefer's stomach roil, and she wrenches her shoulders in an effort to fight free of the one holding her, only to be shoved down even harder towards the dirt. Meanwhile, the one at the head of the group stares down the warrior, eyes narrowing. ] Unles you just want 'er for yourself.

[ It's been awhile since Joric thought of such things as a woman's company for the night. He's knows he's far too dangerous to risk that rage while a woman is alone and vulnerable with him and while he's certainly lamented it plenty of times, as the weeks turned into months, turned into a year and more, he's dwelt on it less and less. It's just another sad inevitability of his situation and he doesn't stick around towns long enough for women to start flirting with him anyway.

The bandit's assumption that that's why Joric is interfering is a handy excuse - better than his own of "I have no idea why I'm doing this" - so he offers a bit of a shrug. He's not the type to make heroic speeches about protecting the weak or a lady's honor. He just knows he's big, can take a lot of hits, and it'd be on his conscious if he didn't try to stop them. It's ingrained in him to be a protector, even if he doesn't know why; even if he thinks he no longer can be because he's a monster. ]

Why don't you get your hands off her- [ Said to the one pushing her down, ] and we'll see whether she wants to stay or go? Unless you're a bunch of cowards who can only get women by kidnapping them.

[ It's becoming clearer and clearer — at least to Yennefer's eyes — that the longer this goes on, the odds of only one side walking away with all of their limbs still attached to their body begin to shift. She's not even certain why the man has stopped to begin with — nor what he plans to do other than engage in some display of heroism — but she has no intention of staying here to find out if she can let him dispatch them quickly and move on before their corpses are even cold.

Their leader voices another loud scoff, then, and finally unsheathes his other blade with a rasp of steel against leather — it's certainly smaller, compared to that greatsword, but whether he can wield it or not is not her concern at all. The sooner she can get free, the sooner she'll grab her pack and make a run for it without looking back to see where her unexpected rescuer has gone to. ]

Or — we'll just cut your throat and see what you've got on ya. Maybe even sell that sword for some good coin. [ Yennefer doesn't attempt to hide her own derisive snort, then, at the bandit leader's mistaken perspective, words half-muffled where her face is shoved down into the dirt. ] It'll be your funeral, then.

[ The sword may be huge, but it's nothing special. Simple army issue with a leather-wrapped grip that's seen better days. Joric almost wants to say "Good luck with that" because it's not an elegant weapon anyone would buy to use. They'd probably just try to lower the price to melt it down.

But Joric doesn't bother pointing that out because he doesn't plan on letting these idiots best him. Instead he rotates his wrist to turn his sword like he's examining it, but instead it's him moving it into a swinging position, which he does a moment later, straight at the bandit's gut.

The man's eyes widen and he just manages to get his sword up to block, setting a foot back at the unexpected strength pushing against him. The man pushing Yennefer down suddenly lightens his hold, unsure if he's meant to aid his leader or not. Meanwhile Joric pushes back from the clashing of swords and swings down towards the man's shins instead while the latter is still trying to keep his balance. ]

[ Once the grip on her arms starts to loosen, Yennefer tenses — the most foolish thing she could do is immediately try to slip free, especially while swords are clashing barely five feet away from her. Instead, she waits, until she’s released altogether in favor of the bandits drifting in toward the center of the fray to assist, to help their leader against this warrior before he’s cut down. There are at least five, perhaps six of them — a fair number even for one man of that size to take on his own.

In the end, that realization is what keeps her feet from so much as moving even a single step. She can drift forward, now with her hands free, even while she fights through the soreness in her limbs from being held roughly, drawing the air up and channeling it between her fingers until she lets it fly free with a transparent burst, as powerful as a fist driving into a stomach, and certainly strong enough to knock at least one bandit off his feet.

Another rounds on her, clearly in an effort to subdue her again, but she has chaos under her control again and a mere twitch of her fingers sends enough force forward to break his ankle, leaving him to crumple on the ground and writhe in pain. That still leaves the rest for the warrior to face, and her head whips around for her gaze to find him as she squints through the curtain of her long, dark hair. ]

[ It's not impossible odds, but even he knows he has to move fast to disable several of these men before they have the chance to pile on him. The ironic part is he knows that if this curse of a spell he's been living under were to put him into a rage right now, he would win this fight with no problem. The ferocity that would come out would leave these men bloody and dismembered before they could even get in a strike. But he has his own mind for this encounter, which means thinking on his feet and adapting to what's around him.

And thankfully what's around him is a good distraction. One gets gut punched by some invisible force and his sharp movement plus the sound of his pain draws the attention of all but their leader. A second is brought down to the ground with a scream and Joric knows that there is either an invisible assassin in their midst or the woman is doing something. So that takes some of the burden off him. Good.]

Looks like that hurt.

[ It's said without taking his eyes off the leader, who sadly doesn't take the bait to look away at his fallen comrade. It was worth a shot. Instead Joric rushes forward with all weight to swing at the man, who blocks the blow but whose feet skid back on the well-worn dirt path. Surging forward more, Joric manages to headbutt him and that finally gets the man disoriented enough that his block weakens. Joric pushes back suddenly and just has time to slash at the man's midsection before the next bandit steps in to assist and his blow is blocked. Joric doesn't hesitate to fight this one but he's well aware that the others will surround him soon and he readjusts his stance to keep his back away from them all. ]

[ Even now, her powers aren’t limitless — they’d restrained the use of her hands before, but she only has so much chaos to draw upon before she reaches the pinnacle of what she can channel without running the risk of burning out, like a flame running too hot before extinguishing itself. The real trick, meanwhile, is to not let herself become so distracted by what her unexpected rescuer is doing that she allows anyone to get too close to try and grab her again.

And he is chaos in living form, but the controlled kind, she thinks, watching him move regardless, the fluidity of his motion and how he makes a split-second decision that could have left him vulnerable if he hadn’t suddenly chosen to shift his stance or dodge the incoming swipe of a blade.

Their enemies’ numbers are dwindling — silently, she wonders when she started thinking of them as theirs, rather than hers — but even from here she can tell that his strength isn’t limitless either. Sooner or later, they might wear him down, and that realization is what drives her to her knees of her own volition as she plunges her hands into the dirt, calling on the trees around them to give them the upper hand.

One bandit gets snatched up off his feet by a long, whipping branch and dangled upside down by the ankles; another is wrapped decisively around the middle, trapping his hands at his sides. Yennefer feels herself growing faint with the effort but fights to stay awake, alert, even as the fight begins to dwindle down to the warrior opposite the bandit leader as they circle each other once more. As long as she can hold out for him to dispatch the ingrate — but her breathing is already more labored as spots dance in front of her vision. ]

[ Heart pounding, beads of sweat prickling on his skin, and yet all of Joric's focus is on the man standing opposite him. The scene around is chaos but the only takeaway from it is that those men are out of the fight and he doesn't have to worry about getting flanked. All he has to worry about is besting this one with the snarl permanently affixed to his face.

When Joric strikes, it's quick and dirty without a lot of wind up. Swords clash, then clash again, push together then apart. The men seem equally matched and it's merely a question of who falters first. Or who has the better plan. Joric moves around the man to get him to readjust, but really he's just being lined up where Joric wants him. Then he rushes forward to lock swords again, but this time pushes the man along until his back hits one of his own men dangling from the tree. This causes enough of a distraction that Joric can finally get the upper hand to gut him with one swift movement. ]

[ There's a ringing in her ears that has little to do with the sound of blade meeting blade now, and Yennefer's abilities are torn between maintaining consciousness and tapping into the tree's strength before using it for a different purpose than simply burying its roots further into the ground. She still wants to return things to their natural order, though, to let the chaos run its course before reverting out of her and back into the wilderness all around them, but she's struggling to keep herself alert.

In fact, the last thing she manages to see, before she finally loses the fight to stay awake, is the warrior thrusting his blade deep into the stomach of the bandit leader — the sound of that pained groan echoes in her hearing, following her down into the darkness of oblivion, as she finally collapses to the ground, relinquishing her hold on the magic itself.

The tree freezes where it stands, its branches firm and unyielding in their grip around any other foes, but Yennefer is now crumpled beneath its scattered leaves, unconscious and breathing evenly. ]

[ He's still full of adrenaline from the fight and panting heavily, feeling anger bubbling up in his mind but grateful it can't come out right now. There's no telling what might happen if he comes across a fight like this in the future. If the potion stops working and the rage breaks through... well, he's thought it over a thousand times already so he pushes past the what ifs in his mind and crouches to wipe off his sword. As he does so he casts his gaze over at the fallen woman. She's clearly alive from her heavy breathing, but her magic use must have exhausted her.

And maybe that's a good thing? Maybe Joric should just leave her because he obviously has had a bad experience being at the mercy of magic users. She's clearly powerful and he wouldn't want powerful magic used on him again.

Unless... well, it would be stupid to walk away without seeing if she knows any healing magic, right? What is he doing out here wandering from place to place if not looking for a cure, right? And he'd hope she feels she owes him one for the rescue.

Sheathing his sword, he moves over to her and nudges her around the knee with the toe of his boot. ]

You awake? We should probably leave before the locals see us with a bunch of dead bodies.

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