The Pale Upstart

 In the time it took for Gideon to brace himself for what would come, it had already started. The horses shot forward with a power only the muscles of a beast could possess. Surprisingly, to him at least, the bandits sought to take the beasts down first. Perhaps they believed it was more important to first remove the knights' mobility than actually taking them down was. 

 As for himself? He waited for the knights to reach the last bandit. By that point, only one of them had died, his throat sliced and his blood watering the lavender flowers between two massive sentinel trees. Gideon found himself behind them; they had seemingly forgotten about him in the action. He sprang forward just as the knights turned around for a second charge. 

 " Get the damn horses!" The bandit leader yelled as he grit his teeth. The second group of bandits had joined with the rest; they all formed a tight circle. In his humble opinion, they could have handled the situation far better had they remained split since the knights couldn't quite as easily target two groups at once, but then again he had no experience in handling cavalry. 

 Ser Lewyn kept his eyes trained on the leader of the band, the only target on a horse, quite determined to cut his head off with this second charge. Gideon waited for them to be upon the bandits to synchronize his strike with theirs. The bandit before him spun to his right to dodge a knight's sword and had the upper part of his arm cut open instead of his heart pierced. 

 Gideon cursed out as the bandit cried in pain. He seemed just as young as him. Tears pooled in his eyes, but still, he tried to push Gideon away with a kick. An axe nearly buried itself in the side of his head yet his eyes, sickly as they were, still caught the movement. He moved out of the trajectory whilst thrusting his sword forward. It was a thin blade, incapable of inflicting damage with its weight like a larger one would, but it was perfect for penetrating that leather armour the young bandit wore. As far as Gideon was concerned, it was more clothing than armour. The other boy gasped as the blade entered a lung. 

 He could not celebrate his skill even mentally as he was backhanded away, the first colliding with his mouth and splitting his upper lip. Again, he saw black. Those bandits were definitely far stronger than he. 

 He turned around and saw a head fly off. A horse whined before it dropped to the ground, an axe embedded in its skull. One knight found himself without a mount and the bandits sought to surround him, but their view was blocked by another horse. Sir Lewyn swung his bastard sword in one hand, slicing deep into a bandit's shoulder. A fellow knight of his fought with two swords, and he did so not with grace but with complete savagery. The man looked like he was possessed. 

 The bandits, however, were not dropping half as easily as Gideon had hoped they would. One grabbed him around the midsection whilst another stabbed his dagger near his chest. He tried to kick the blade away but only succeeded in having it stab his leg instead of his torso. He held back a howl and headbutted the scruffy man before him. 

 His near-absent resistance to pain was already proof enough that he was no fight, but he would not go down that easily. At least he had taken down one bandit by himself, so he wasn't doing so horribly regarding the quest's objectives. 

 " Duck, boy!" He heard Sir Lewyn's voice behind him and obeyed before he even processed the words. Thank the gods he had recognized the voice and did not freeze in place. Another head flew off as he jumped on the grass; he saw it roll beside him and stared at empty, glassy eyes. This time, he did freeze. 

 He tried to stand back up but–

 " Ugh!" A kick to the stomach knocked the air right out of his lungs and sent him tumbling away. 

 He was being manhandled like some particularly annoying brat, but so far, he had not died yet. 

 *Clang!*

 Curse himself, he had spoken too soon! In a heartbeat, he put his sword in the way of his face to protect himself from the incoming blade. The force behind the strike nearly pushed his own sword against the soft skin. Against his better judgement, he placed his other arm against the blade, digging into his flesh to push away the bandit's weapon. He should have tried to punch him away, he knew, but his eyes were wide open as he stared at the clashing blades. 

 He kneed the bastard in the stomach but that did not get him off. He was stronger; at one point, he would get through. 

 " Fer fuck sake! Kill the damn gnat!" Another unwashed bandit yelled, this one far older than the rest. Rushing to them, the old man stabbed his dirk downward. Gideon removed his second arm, letting his own sword bite into his flesh whilst using said arm to push the first bandit away….and into his fellow's dirk. 

 It struck him in the back and he howled in pain as he cursed his companion. Before he could finish his string of insults, a punch connected with his face, crushing his nose. The sensation sickened Gideon but still, he rolled away just as another body crashed into the old man, sending him against a nearby tree. 

 He wiped the blood that had gotten into his eyes and briefly paused as he saw his stained hair. He had always hated dirtying it and it looked especially horrendous, dyed in red now. He shook the thought off and refocused on the 'battle' if he could even call it that. The knights were naturally superior but they had indeed been bogged down by the bandits' numbers. A good five or six bandits had died or had at least been incapacitated. 

 Sir Lewyn and his dual sword-wielding fellow were the only ones fighting effectively. The other two seemed somewhat decent fighters. But evidently, they were not that superior, even in the face of untrained peasants. Then again, he could not easily guess that these men were indeed untrained; they just seemed like boys before Sir Lewyn, who easily handled them. His shiny armour probably helped; lucky bastard. 

 "Argh, fuck!" He screamed as a sharp pain registered in his ribs. He saw a head full of hair on his left side and dropped his elbow on it with all the strength he could muster. He heard a feminine cry of pain but ignored it. He grasped his sword with both hands and struck down whilst the bandit on the floor turned around to face him. 

 Blood sprayed on his nice boots and his pants as he drove the blade through the throat. He heard gasps and saw tears hit the flowers beneath, mixing with the red droplets. He stopped as he beheld his kill. The woman at the crossroads. Her eyes were wide, both pain and realization hitting her at the same time. She clutched the sword and her throat and he felt her weak hands try to push the blade out. 

 Her efforts ceased as her eyes lost their light. He took in the sight of her rosy cheeks and her hair, stained in blood as were his. He had not even recognized her and had completely ignored how high-pitched her cry had been. But…she had tried to murder him. 

 A shoulder connected with his and the next thing he knew, he felt his back break against the hard sentinel tree. 

 One of the last bandits glared at him with some righteous fury. How he felt dignified to even feel as such, Gideon could not begin to guess. Behind him, his fellows had been slaughtered and three that remained could barely hold off the knights. The two swords wielding maniac was holding his helmeted head in one hand for some reason whilst another one was busy beating one downed bandit to death. 

 Ser Lewyn and the fourth knight would make quick work of the remaining bandits. But the one before him? He would get a few good hits in before they could get to him. 

 " Ross! The Snow hair!" Ser Lewyn's exclaimed. By that point, the furious bandit was already in his face, yet he did see the dual sword-wielding knight madly rushing towards them. The sight of a fully armoured knight running that quickly was truly terrifying. 

 Then again, he was rushing to help him. And Gideon knew how to take advantage of that. 

 " YOU LITTLE SHIT!" The bandit bellowed as he tried to put his grubby hands on Gideon's face. He ducked at the last second and sent his knee upward. He heard a grunt as his knee struck the man in the chest. The bandit recoiled but pushed through the pain and punched him in the temple. The fist had no time to fully crash against his head; the knight was upon them, swords in hands. He stabbed the bandit in the back, and the two blades came out of the stomach and the chest, respectively. One even nearly took his right eye as he fell arse first in mud. 

 " Well, should be the last of these cunts." Ser Ross said and Gideon could almost hear the smirk beneath the helmet. He freed his swords from the corpse and let it collapse besides Gideon. He did not even offer a hand and simply left to join his companions. Both Ser Lewyn and the fourth knight had restrained the leader of the band. He was surprised the man was still alive, but apparently, they had gone out of their way to spare him during the fight. 

 He got off the ground on his own and….took in the sight; blood plastered on the trees and dripping from flowers. He found his horse, unharmed but quite spooked. The knights had lost two of theirs, whilst Ser Ross had left his to….get close and personal with the bandits? Gideon couldn't quite read the man but he seemed fairly loose. 

 Only now did his heart start to calm down; the pain from the damage that had accumulated reared its ugly head, and the system popped right in his face. 

[ The champion has completed a quest! ]

[ The champion has completed additional objectives! ]

Rewards: Access to Ressource Menu, +10 Relation with Crownmen, insignificant reputation gain in King's Landing. 

Additional Rewards: 50 Silver Stags. 

 Well, that was certainly something. The stags were a nice addition even with Lord Aster's parting gift. If he could expect such payments from this 'System' in the future, he should not fall into debt any time soon. That was a substantial amount for just….Two bandits? The system displayed the number, but he had a hard time believing it. He definitely felt like he had dealt with one more bandit…maybe it hadn't counted as his own kill? 

 He would wait to check the rest of the rewards, once he was back on his way. Especially now that Ser Lewyn was heading his way. 

 " What is your name, boy?" The knight asked. He had not removed his helmet. Was it not courtesy to do so? Maybe he had imagined that. He could not for the life of him remember the countless etiquette lessons Lord Tyrell had given him.

 " Gideon. You are Ser Lewyn, correct?" He answered. The knight clasped an armoured hand over his shoulder. It hurt, but he did not let it appear on his face. 

 " Ser Lewyn Brant, knight sworn to the Royal House Baratheon as a member of the Crownmen. You have good ears. My name was only spoken once, and Ser Duncan was not loud in the slightest"

 Gideon gave him a dopey smile, mostly because the pain was getting to his head at that point. 

 " That I do. Ser Lewyn of House Brant is it?" He asked. The knight seemed far more….noble than his fellows. 

 " I belong to no lordly house, boy. I am but a knight. " Ser Lewyn answered curtly. 

 " A knight in quite the shiny armour, eh?" Then again, the others looked just as well-armed as Ser Lewyn. What were those Crownmen again? 

 He heard Ser Lewyn click his mouth whilst Ser Ross laughed. 

 " Aye, tis' some good steel. All paid for with Lannister gold!" He exclaimed. That only seemed to further anger Ser Lewyn. 

 " And the other Great Houses. The Lannisters had a larger contribution, that is all. The Queen is a Lannister after all. There are more pressing matters, however. You are injured, boy. Duncan put some cloth on him!" He barked at the tallest knight. 

 " I…uh, I can get those looked at in a village, probably," Gideon stated. He had to admit he was not fond of the idea of letting anyone he did not know, see to his wounds. Other than a maester that is. 

 " We are not in any capacity to help you beyond putting some cloth to prevent bleeding anyway. You should head to Tumbleton to the west. You should not find any of….." He turned his head slightly towards a bandit's corpse. " Filth, on the way to the town. The Crownmen are patrolling along the kingsroad up north but some of us remained in the southern part of the road…just to be certain."

With that, Ser Lewyn went back to the tied-up bandit leader and left Ser Duncan to see to the wounds. The knight had quite the deft fingers. The pieces of cloth were swiftly wrapped around his wounds, though not without some grunting and laboured breaths. It was no true method of healing, but at least he wouldn't die on the way to Tumbleton…probably. 

 To his surprise he found Ser Ross looking at him. Well, he could not see the man's eyes but he certainly appeared to be gazing deep into his soul. 

 " What kind of creature are you?" The man asked. Duncan whispered " Ross!" harshly but the knight ignored him. 

 " Uh…I happen to be a man, like you. I just have a few…unique features." Gideon answered, more so embarrassed than angered. He had felt a lifetime of anger already when it came to this unique appearance of his. He would not easily succumb to wrath anymore. 

 " Really? The eyes, the hair. S'all a bit weird, isn't it? Is it a curse?" 

 " Ser Ross! The Crownlands will not cleanse themselves!" Ser Lewyn called out to him. He was still awaiting Gideon's answer, but the irate knight yelled again. 

 " The King's Hand did not suffer countless hours of arguments to create our order, only for you to ruin it all with your laziness! Search the bodies and get ready to deliver the scum's leader when the rest arrive!"

 Ser Ross sighed and then….ruffled Gideon's hair. 

 " You did good, during the fight I mean. I would give you a coin or two for your troubles, but I don't know if I'd get punished for it. It's good that the roads are not only frequented by smelly, scruffy and fuckin' ugly cutthroats. Try not to die, kid." 

 With that, Ser Ross left a stunned Gideon behind and joined Ser Lewyn. 

 Gideon wordlessly walked to his horse and rubbed the beast's fur to calm it. It was still shaken from the fight. He jumped on it and gave it a gentle kick. He looked at the knights whilst he left the forest, unsure as to how he should feel.

 He was hurt. He had been terrified at one point when he had thought it was just him and the bandits. He could not believe he had actually joined the fight. Did random travellers often join in on matters of the Crown? Probably not. The knights probably felt as weirded out as he was. T'was not his fault he had been attacked anyway. 

 He saw the road ahead as he passed through the last branches. He certainly hoped there would not be any more troubles on his road to…Rosby? Yes, that was his objective for now. A stop at Tumbleton for a day or two and then he would go to Rosby. With his luck, he would probably get mugged if he went to King's landing. He had already decided not to visit, but the temptation was strong. It was the capital of the realm after all. 

 One day he would. Probably as a far greater man than he was now. But with this system….

 Well, he would be a great man soon. Maybe not a good man, if he constantly received quests pertaining to conflicts. But he would be a great man.

 He thought of that woman he had killed. He was no stranger to death. Essos was a rough to grow up in. And he had a lot of growing up to do as a slave. But still…that was perhaps the worst experience he had had with taking a life yet. But he had to push through his doubts, and certainly through his morals. 

 He had promised to himself, that he would go as far as possible, no matter the cost. He would never become a great man, already doubting himself during the first steps of his journey. 

 Lord Tyrell often repeated the same lesson to him, one he had learned from his mother. The Queen of Thorns. He would tell him that the man who does not question his own choices and never wonders where he stands in the world will almost always turn to evil at one point. Because the heart of men, whilst not inherently evil, is easily seduced. 

 He had to admit, if only in the privacy of his own mind…..that he had been one of these men for too long, and his ambition was the consequence.