Chapter 13: Bandits!
The world came back to Inigo in fragments—dust floating in shafts of morning light, the groan of twisted wood, and the coppery tang of blood in the air.
He blinked rapidly, lying sideways in the now-toppled carriage. The padded seats were half-crushed against the wall, and Garrick lay slumped near the opposite side, blood streaking from a gash on his forehead. The carriage had flipped, shattered planks jutting through its base like broken ribs.
Inigo's ears rang. His HUD flickered erratically before stabilizing.
[WARNING: Ambush Detected]
He pushed himself up, coughing from the dust.
"Garrick!" he hissed, crawling toward the older man.
Garrick stirred with a grunt. "Still breathing," he muttered, clutching his side. "Blast took us clean off the trail."
"What the hell was that?"
"Bandits," Garrick said. "Knew the risk. They must've been trailing us since yesterday."
Outside, the clash of steel and the thunderous blasts of magic filled the forest. Screams followed. Shouts, then gurgled cries. One by one, they were silenced.
Inigo stiffened.