The Battle of Hilltop

The townsfolk of Hilltop backed away as one from the two fighters staring each other down. The first was a sadly familiar face: Kibroth Black, bandit chief and raider of undefended villages extraordinaire. He was a giant of a man, with the towering build, scaly skin, crown of horns and trio of blood red eyes common to his race. He wore a suit of rusted armor, a tattered black cloak, a deadly sneer and carried a rifle large enough to pass as a small canon.

His opponent matched his look of fierce determination, if not his imposing physical presence. She was a stranger going by the name of Rift, arrived in the town only the day before. Standing just under five feet tall, she would probably only come up to Kibroth’s chest, her snow white hair and bright gold eyes also not contributing to an intimidating look. She wore a dark purple duster over a black and white pullover, and had a series of artistic symbols tattooed around her eyes. The only thing that made her look remotely like a fighter was the sword she held aloft in her right hand.

“So the only one of you with warrior’s blood is a little girl? Pathetic!” Kibroth rumbled, his booming voice carrying across the entire town.

“Ha! Jokes on you” Rift replied confidently. “I don’t have a drop of warrior’s blood in me, or the faintest clue what I’m doing! No, seriously: What am I doing? I don’t even live here!”

“Then stand aside and let us collect what is ours by right” Kibroth said, taking a step forwards. In a flash, Rift brought her sword up and pointed it at him threateningly.

“Hold up there, tall, dark and scary: I’m still not going to let you just walk in here and take everything away from these people” She declared boldly.

“Why not?” Kibroth asked, taking another step forwards. “If they can not protect their riches, they do not deserve them. Anyone foolish enough to live without gun and sword defending their town deserve people like me.”

“Well, I’d say people like you deserve people like me” Rift retorted. “People who won’t be cowed and bullied. Just because you’re bigger, stronger, more powerful, faster, a better fighter, scarier and out number me twenty to one doesn’t mean you can just walk all over me. Well, technically I suppose it does, but It won’t be without a fight!”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it? A good fight isn’t too much to ask for” Kibroth said, earning a series of cheered agreements from his men. “And, despite first appearances, I have a feeling you might be able to give me one. That blade of yours: It’s quite unusual.”

“It should be,” Rift retorted, swinging said sword in a wide arc. “It’s forged from Sagittarius white steel. This is the fell blade of Storm Call, slayer of the Swarm. It came to my hand when… well, I don’t actually remember how exactly I got it. I really need to start writing things like that down. But the point is yes! It’s a very nice sword.”

“Well I sincerely hope you have the skill to be worthy of such a prize” Kibroth folded his arms. “I propose a challenge, ‘Rift’: A duel, between you and I. If you win, my men will leave this pathetic town and it’s meager spoils for you. If I win… well, you’ll be dead, so it doesn’t really matter to you.”

Rift glanced back at the townsfolk of Hilltop, fear etched in each of their faces. These people survived as simple farmers in a arid land most would find more than inhospitable. They were far from weak, no matter what Kibroth might think. If the bandits were not armed with firearms and were forced to fight them on equal footing… Alas, that was not the case.

“A duel?” Rift asked, turning back to face Kibroth. “Just between the two of us, for the fate of all these people?”

“Why not? You are clearly the most worthy of these people, and I am certainly the most worthy of mine. I believe you deserve the chance to face me, rather than just being gunned down” Kibroth answered almost nonchalantly.

Rift studied the twenty or so raiders, each just as fearsome and well armed as their leader. She quickly calculated the odds of her being able to stop them all, even with the help of the townsfolk… and came up with exactly zero percent.

“Alright. I agree” Rift proclaimed, grasping her sword with both hands. “For the sake of these people.”

“Speaking of which, this would be a really good time to run away. Or maybe scrape together what weapons you can and sneak around behind them. No, wait, that’s a horrible idea: Better just run” Rift whispered to the villagers closest to her as Kibroth briefly conferred with his men, handing one of them his rifle in exchange for a oddly humming double-headed axe roughly the size of a small tree. Kibroth grinned evilly at the surprised Rift, giving his weapon a few swings before bringing it down into the earth, creating a small crater.

“That’s a Shock-Axe” Rift pointed at the weapon, furrowing her brow. “There are interstellar treaties banning those things.”

“Do I really strike you as someone to care what is and isn’t legal?” Kibroth asked with raised eyebrows. “This is a duel of honor, not fairness. If my weapon is better than yours… oh well.”

“So I’m to understand that anything goes, weapon wise?” Rift asked, mind racing.

“No firearms: I prefer the classics” Kibroth answered. “Otherwise, yes.”

“Hmm… okay, be right back then! I need to gear up real quick” Rift said, grinning brightly at the confused bandit chief. Without another word, she slid her sword back in it’s sheath and simply walked away.

“What weapon could you possibly have that’s better than ‘The Fell Blade of Storm Call’?” Kibroth called after her, but she didn’t even slow down as she disappeared down one of Hilltop’s many alleyways.

Kibroth glanced at his head lieutenant who just shrugged. The raiding party spent several very awkward minutes just kind of staring at one another before Kibroth finally lost his patience.

“Dakr it! The stranger was a coward!” He fumed, slamming his Shock-Axe into the ground again. “Are there no true warriors left on this world? Is there no strength to be found anywhere in the land? Certainly not in this mudhole. Burn the fields! Smash the buildings! Take everything! I never want to see this pit of cowardice and treachery again. This is what your ‘champion’ has brought you, sheep!” He spat at the cowering villagers. “A cruel but just end. Strength is the only truth that matters, and you have none. You sicken me! You… what is that infernal sound?”

A slow hum was coming from somewhere in the town, steadily growing louder until it was nearly a roar. Kibroth turned towards the sound, just in time to see the motorcycle practicality flying through the air at him. He tried to jump out of the way but wasn’t nearly fast enough, instead being hit full on and sent flying to the ground. The veteran warrior managed to hold onto his sense though, as well as his Axe. He pushed himself up and glared at Rift, who cheekily smiled back at him from her mount on the bike.

“What? You said anything but firearms” She pointed out.

“Cheap tricks won’t save your head from me, girl” Kibroth snarled through gritted teeth. “A true warrior can not fall to dishonor!”

The bandit chief jumped to his feet and charged at Rift with a fierce battle cry. In turn, she punched the throttle and accelerated towards him at ninety miles an hour. Kibroth brought his Shock-Axe down on her bike with all his might, getting a split second look at his weapon shattering against it’s reinforced casing before the motorcycle rammed into him again. This time, he was sent flying into a stone wall and it took him much longer to push himself up. When he finally managed to raise himself, he got a great view of the ‘Fell Blade of Storm Call’ as a dismounted Rift held it to his throat.

“I agree: A true warrior can not fall to dishonor. Luckily for me, you’re nothing of the sort” She told the glaring bandit chief. “Take your gang of overgrown bullies and get out of hilltop. Or else.”

Kibroth stared at her, eyes burning with hatred, before a grin started to slowly spread across his face.

“So you have a warrior’s blood after all!” He said with a thunderous laugh. “A bit sneakier than most, granted, but warrior’s blood nonetheless. I will honor our agreement: Your sheep are yours to keep.”

Rift and the villagers breathed a sigh of relief. The raiders looked like they weren’t particularly interested in honoring their leaders agreement, but one deadly serious look from Kibroth made them back down.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of the whole ‘Murder and Pillage’ thing in general, can I?” Rift asked hopefully, offering Kibroth a hand up.

“Of course not: I’m sparing Hilltop because you defeated me” Kibroth explained, accepting the offered hand. “Anytown with a lesser guardian is mine by right. Although...” The bandit chief fixed the stranger with a critical gaze. “I must admit to being surprised by the effectiveness of your little motor toy. My Shock-Axe should have been able to destroy it, or anything short of a starship’s hull for that matter, easily: How in the world did your bike survive a direct hit?”

“It’s made from recycled starship hull” Rift answered simply, eyeing the bandit chief with a mixture of wariness and disappointment. “You do realize someday you’re going to pick a fight with someone strong enough to kill you, right?”

Kibroth’s reply was a simple shrug.

“I suppose. But whoever that may be will have my head by right of battle: That is the proper way of the world. Come on men: We’re leaving.” Kibroth gave Rift and simple bow and marched off.

Rift sighed as she watched them go. Sometimes… sometimes people were just plain frustrating. She slowly turned to face the townsfolk, giving them a bright smile despite herself.

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’m relieved!” She declared to the group as a whole, before frowning. “You know, he wasn’t entirely wrong: Why don’t you have any proper defenses for your town?”

“Because we don’t have any hands to use them!” One of the villagers closest to her bleated.

It was somehow only now that Rift realized the good people of Hilltop were literally sheep. Or something close to it.

“Oh. Good point” Rift conceded. “Still, there must be some kind of weapons system you can invest. Maybe trebuchets or-”

“Why do we need to? You ran them off!” One of the younger villagers shouted excitedly. “You’re a hero!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. And I don’t know that you’re safe either: Kibroth may return some day, or maybe a different group of bandits will realize you’re easy pickings” Rift pointed out, walking back to her bike. “You really need some kind of a defense force.”

“But we’re not like you! We’re not warriors” One of the villagers called.

“If I were really a warrior, do you think I would have needed a motorcycle to win a duel?” Rift said, mounting said motorcycle and pulling on a pair of goggles. “You don’t need some kind of arbitrary code of honor, or ‘might makes right’ worldview, or a obsession with battle to defend yourself: All you need is hope. And hands I guess. You probably need hands I guess. I don’t know, you built your farms and town without hands, didn’t you?”

A murmur of slow agreements rose from the crowd as Rift started her bike.

“See, there you go! You need to build walls or mount guns on your tractors or something. I don’t know: I’m not a warrior” Rift reaffirmed.

“Then… what are you?” One of the villagers called.

“Lost!” Rift shouted over her shoulder as she drove off, wearing a huge grin.