A well-groomed, white furred leg, leading to a black hoof, only centimetres deep with mud of the countryside, beat the ground lazily. Another leg, followed by two more in succession of a gentle trot. If one of the commoners were to stop working from the fields and look up they might’ve noticed that this was no horse.
As the tall male travelled on the small dirt road by the side of the fields, he watched the smaller races that work tirelessly in these fields. Giving but a glance, he wondered if they had much more to their lives’ than what was needed â€" or demanded by this kingdom.
The road led on to a small village on the outskirts of a much grander structure, the Serendipity Castle, it would seem this would be the tertiary of the empire, providing food and work for the lower class citizen, or criminal.
Centaurs were almost myth, very few had seen one leave their home village within the few decades, if one were to look past the few feet, they would indeed note there was no rider or that there was no horse head either.
The road rose from the fields as he trotted towards the village, the majority of which were covered in water with only shoots and tops of the mud on which they were seeded were above the surface, the rest of the surrounding land grew ground vegetables such as turnips, potatoes and carrots to name but a few.
Jonas was not comfortable, the nearest forest would seem to be within a dash, but still. It would only take a heartbeat for someone to decide life or death.
It would seem the lower classes are not permitted to look up to a knight on horseback â€" which could be what the Centaur was assumed to be - or they had no want or need to know what noble passed the fields that day.
His pace never faltered, his hooves pacing the dry road as he looked onwards to the forest edge, it seemed the… midgets had guards â€" or police patrolling the road, obviously keeping the others inline and safe, their helmets were pretty thick, fullhelm, if someone were to sneak behind them or quietly enough, they would not be noticed.
Other than the noise of work, the noisy clank of the guards’ armour or the paced steps of the male himself â€" it was very quiet.
That was until three bandits emerged from the blanket of darkness the nearest wood provided, swords drawn, they headed towards the closet worker to themâ€" relentlessly charging in their raid for food, supplies or just for the sheer fun of it.
Jonas frowned, his heightened senses picked up the new noise of the battlecry before any other. He leaped off the road, splashing an unfortunate worker â€" the bath would do him well - and charged to protect the defenceless: a single worker who was meters from the others, a young woman who hadn’t noticed the oncoming danger.
The group slowed as they approached, having not been noticed until the daytime sun threw their short shadows over her, she turned with a shocked scream. Now the guards reacted, all too late. Today their prise was not food, supplies or the joy of killing someone, no they had a woman â€" young, pretty and of course, easy pickings, that was if the young centaur hadn’t noticed, or for that matter, drawn his longbow.
A single arrow, drawn from one of dozens in his quiver located on his back and a half speed pace allowed him to position his attack with accuracy, letting loose the bolt from his string which flew with frightening speed.
The nearest guard clattered towards the enemies, their armour was good at defence, but only if the combatant were close or charging at him, defending others was another story. Especially over such a distance.
One of the bandits lowered his sword, grabbing the woman’s arm in a possessive manner, the other two watched with glee as he threatened her life. The smallest of the group picked up the basket that she had worked so hard for, only half full of potatoes.
The leader â€" or what would appear to be the leader almost lifted his captive off the ground. She squirmed to get free, her struggles useless against his grip, that is, until the arrow struck its mark. The rouge leader roared in pain which made the guard stop unexpectedly, grinding to a half only to raise his visor to see in the distance and injured man, a confused pair, a woman on the ground and what could be seen as a man and a horse, that isn’t either. His sword and shield were held at his side as curiosity took over from where courage and duty had been before.
The woman lay collapsed on the ground, fearfully looking up at her capture that now had held of his arm tightly, cradling it in noticeable pain. The arrow had not only hit, but also travelled halfway through his arm, between the two bones that made the forearm.
The bow returned to the Centaur’s back, now he had their attention. Finally.
The two bandits set their sights on who had fired with shock; they readied themselves for a fight, uncertainly lit in their eyes, but their leader urged them on with a glare.
Reaching for a weapon stripped to his side, Jonas unsheathed a long spear from its sash; the smaller throwing spears jingling as he did this. Much like a lancer, he twirled it in a wide arch into a jousting position as he charged.
The injured leader looked up to his opponent only mere meters away, piercing the wooden buckler that the other thug had used to defend himself, in one swift action he was thrown back with shards of the tool flying apart, only to be smashed to the floor by the blunt end of the long pole. Jonas ran straight past the leader, as he stood mesmerized, the centaur then slowed to a stance, his lancet firmly gripped to his side. The second thug dropped the basket and took arms against the threat, ignoring the fact that his friend had been completely demolished â€" or at least rendered unconscious.
He readied the two-handed sword and charged the Centaur; who had stood to one side offering his left as bait to what would seem defenceless.
The bandit raised his sword to strike a powerful downward swipe, leaving his chest completely unprotected to which the Centaur reared on his back legs, bewildering the man while his strong hoofed front legs pummelled into his chest just as he approached within blade-length and thus winding him. The bandit bent over, one arm quickly darting to his chest and stumbling backwards, as his blade drooped to the floor, the handle now held loosely with one hand.
Jonas then turned quickly and calf-kicked him into the air, the man almost landing on his friend nearby, the sword falling to the ground lifelessly.
The leader stared, only to return his bewildered gaze to the arrow sticking both-ways out of his arm. He broke the arrow in two with his other hand and with great difficulty yanked it through his forearm releasing a sharp cry through gritted teeth.
With a final, weary glance to his fallen men, the Centaur readied a charge and the guard were closing in the gap, he turned and fled back into the forest, retreating like the coward he was.
Jonas sheathed his spear back into the sash with a single fluid motion and slowly approached the lady who still lay on the floor; he offered his hand to her with a small friendly smile and with a smooth effortless motion the woman was pulled to her feet. Blue-grey eyes looked her over for any injuries, finding nothing he nodded and without a word left the awed gob smacked worker to be tended by the guard and continued on his way back onto the dusty road towards the village.
Looks like he could prove his worth here after all.
(Open to anyone who wants to be a spectator, the worker or whatever ^^)
