Chapter 2

Your eyes go wide in surprise as Lucille attacks. You can't avoid letting out a groan of pain, strongly gritting your teeth as the knife disappears into your body. "You... fucking... bitch..." You weakly pant.

The woman keeps her expression cold and unflinching, yet she doesn't seem to be enjoying this. She takes advantage of your initial shock and quickly slides your sword out of the scabbard on your hip.

"Fuckin' finally." The clown sighs, removing the red nose from his face, taking a step back, and loudly knocking the side of the wagon with his fist, in front of the confused gaze of the audience and the young princess. The doors in the back of the caravan instantly open up, five dark-green orcs step out of it with axes and swords in their hands... The citizens gasp and scream in horror, desperately scurrying away and bumping into each other as the celebration rapidly turns into a nightmare. Charlotte stands frozen in place, shivering in fear as one of the big green creatures starts moving towards her.

Hurt, bleeding, and unarmed, you move your hand towards Lucille's neck. Before you are even able to squeeze your fingers around her throat, she fiercely twists the dagger around. You grunt, the overwhelming pain making you writhe and tumble towards the ground. Lucille lets you fall, the handle of the knife still sticking out of your abdomen. "Stand down. Please. It's for the best." She softly commands, starting to walk away, sliding your stolen sword into the leather belt on her waist. She takes a final look at you over her shoulder before disappearing into the horde of escaping citizens...

While one orc looms over the small princess, the other four run to fight the few human soldiers reporting to the scene. The orcs ferociously attack, not bothering with any sort of defense, just causing the most damage they can and attracting attention to themselves. "Come on, ya fuckin' beast. Grab her!" The clown loudly yells to the orc in front of Charlotte, moving towards the seat next to the short man on the wagon.

On the nearest exit of the city, towards where the horses of the caravan are pointing, two drowsy guards stand at each side of the opened gate. The screams and sounds of battle at the close distance seem to shake them wide awake, they confusedly look at each other. "What the-" They start saying at the same time, but they are interrupted as two skimpy-dressed succubi step out from the shadows, swiftly moving behind them, planting a playful kiss on their cheeks and slitting their throats open with wide, precise cuts. They wink an eye at each other, dragging the bodies away and leaving behind a clear escape route.

Agonizing over the floor, you look towards Charlotte's direction. "N-no! No!" She cries out, feebly swinging her arms and kicking her legs around as the strong, towering orc easily grabs her delicate body and holds it over his shoulder. "Arthur!" She squeals. Your eyes are met with hers for a brief pair of seconds as the orc carries her towards the back of the wagon. You feel ashamed. Defeated.

More and more armed soldiers start rushing to the scene, moving through the stone streets towards the once festive plaza, now cleared of citizens except for a few confused stragglers. "Wait! Wait!" One suddenly says, gesturing his companions to step back as he notices a group of harpies flying over them, holding lighted up sticks of dynamite on their talons that they carelessly drop across the route. "Retreat!" He yells, the guards protect themselves with their shields and sprint away from the deafening explosions.

The orc enters the wagon with the screaming, kidnapped princess secured over his shoulder and hastily closes the doors. The four others keep distracting the soldiers that were able to arrive at the scene, savagely pushing them back.

Do something, Arthur. You have to do something.

You angrily slam your fist on the floor, ignoring the pain on your torso and gathering all the strength you have left in your body to rise from the puddle of your own blood and start advancing towards the wagon. With your injured body bent in a hunched posture and a pissed expression on your face, you remove the dagger from your side and firmly hold it in your hand as you move as fast as you can.

Skipping past the battling humans and orcs, dodging slashes and shoves, you reach the caravan just as the short man in the driver seat hurriedly hits the reins and the horses start moving. You manage to stab the side of the wagon with the dagger in your hand, gripping its sturdy handle for support as you jump on the back of the vehicle. The wagon moves faster and faster as the horses start picking up speed, crossing the exit of the city and moving towards the road that goes through the forest. You feel yourself getting dizzy, your wound aches and burns as you stretch your body. But you are not giving up.

You try to open the small double doors with your free hand but they seem to be locked shut. "Open up!" You furiously shout, kicking on the doors as hard as you can in your awkward position, they won't budge. You hear a soft, girly voice faintly call your name inside the wagon before being interrupted by a loud slap from the orc with her... Charlotte...

You will have to stop the driver.

"T-there is someone back there, I heard him." The man in the fancy clothes softly says to the clown, his gaze fixed on the road as he directs the horses. Trees and nature all around the caravan.

"What are ya talkin' about? There is no-" The clown looks over his shoulder, the calm expression on his makeup drenched face eviscerating as he sees you climbing towards the upper part of the wagon with the help of the dagger in your hand. "Fuck! It's the bodyguard!"

"W-what are we going to do?!" He nervously asks. You keep slowly moving, getting closer and closer to them, leaving behind trails of blood on the surfaces you touch.

"I got a crossbow somewhere! Gimme a second." The clown starts reaching under his seat, struggling to take out the mechanical bow.

Your body is starting to give up, you lost too much blood... You tiredly pant, your vision turns cloudy, limbs feel weak. You fight to keep consciousness as you maneuver through the rapidly moving caravan.

"Hey, asshole!" The clown exclaims, pointing the crossbow towards your direction, pulling the string back, and preparing a bolt on it. "Say goodbye."

"Just shoot him!" The short man at his side screeches. You grab the knife by its pointy side, swiftly throwing it towards the clown just as he pushes the trigger on the crossbow. The blade hits him on the face, right on one of his eyes. He lets out a loud scream of pain, angrily exclaiming every swear word that he can think of. That is going to leave a scar.

The crossbow bolt impacts against your left shoulder, finally making you fall off the wagon, landing on your back over the dirt as the vehicle scurries away, leaving you alone and half-dead at the side of the forest's road. You must look terrible...

Your eyelids feel very heavy. You just can't keep fighting it anymore. The world goes dark as you simply pass out. It's almost relaxing.