Greenwood Gunfight

It was like the booms of thunder and the cracks of lightning. A storm of hot lead flew towards where the Ironslinger crouched, though the bandits spared some consideration for Aria and the Devil. A bullet grazed Aria's shoulder. It was enough to tear her clothes and make her bleed, but not enough to take her out of the action. The pain was like nothing she'd ever felt, like the bite of a hell hound it burned from her elbow to her shoulder. A shrill scream escaped from her mouth as she fell behind a skinny tree.
The Devil was shot three times, leaving bullet holes in their monk robes. It was enough to make them drop like a brick to the floor. Completely dead, they didn't get back up.

Aria didn't think about it. She just clung to the earth and crawled herself behind a tree. A burly bandit with a beard braided down to his hips took a potshot at her with a hunting rifle, which missed but still nicked the bark next to her, sending a flurry of splinters into her face, two of which found her eyes. Another jolt of panic sent her prone behind the tree, and she clawed at her eyes, desperately trying to get the splinters out. The gunshots continued to drum in her ears, she could hear nothing else. The throbbing pain in her shoulder numbed slightly, as the world seemed to turn wobbly and dreamlike.

Her sister was laughing with her mouth and crying with her eyes. She told her she wouldn't eat her vegetables because they were trying to steal her hair. Her golden hair. 'The Maiden Saves the Prince', a song that the bard in the village used to sing, drifted in and out of her mind. Not the chorus, but a random line from the second verse. 'She didn't even know his name'. It played over in her mind, sounding oddly catchy in the moment, but she didn't know why.
Her breathing slowed, and her sisters face drifted into the brambles in front of her. The gunshots became loud again, as if they'd been quiet. She suddenly realised the danger she was in, and the fear returned. But it was more of a gnawing dread than an all consuming void now. Her shoulder still burned and her ears still throbbed with each deafening gunshot, but she got to work.

Her silver hair fell to her shoulders as she took off the cloth it was wrapped in. She tied it round the wound firmly. The pale cloth turned red, but the bleeding seemed to slow as she held it there for a few seconds. It looked shallow, but she didn't know much about gun wounds. She grabbed a branch on the tree and lifted herself up with minimal effort. Her legs shook, and for a second she thought she'd topple over. But she regained her balance and peeked out from behind the tree.

She could only see the legs of the bandit who shot at her. They stuck out of some bushes, completely still. She brushed past it, not ready to face what was happening in full. That was the future Aria's problem. Present Aria had other concerns. The gunshots had moved further down the path, so she staggered to where they lay.
The Devil was face down in the mud, three bullet holes in the back of the monks robes. They weren't moving. Aria sat down on the ground and looked at them. She hadn't liked them, but there had been some sort of comfort in having them with her. It was someone to talk to, even if it was the Devil. She wondered if they were back in the hell they came from, but she doubted it. They'd seemed genuinely concerned with their new body, and if all it took was dying they would have taken their own head off with her sword. 
She might be the only one in all the worlds to know that the Devil was dead, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

"Thanks for carrying my sword, and talking to me I guess." Aria grabbed the sword on their back and started to undo the strapping.

"Aria, is that you girl?" A husky voice echoed from beneath her, and the body turned its neck to show a bandaged face with two empty eye holes. She yelped with surprise and fell backwards into the mud.

"You're alive!" There was a part of her that was kind of annoyed by that fact, but another part felt oddly happy.

"Of course I'm alive. Who do you think you're talking to. I'm the Devil!" they said, sounded exasperated.

"I mean, you fell to the floor after getting shot, and skeletons aren't that sturdy, so I guess I kind've assumed..."

"I thought it was better to play dead in the moment. And anyway, what were the bullets even supposed to hit! I have no organs." They opened their monks robes to reveal an empty rib cage. Some of the bones were chipped, but there was an odd purplish glow coming from them, and when Aria looked closer, she saw that the glow seemed to be knitting the chipped bones back to normal.

"What's that?" She pointed at the glow.

"I suppose my power is keeping my body alive and intact, or at least from something as mundane as bullets." They noticed the now red cloth around her arm. "Are you okay though? You aren't as immortal as I am."

"Oh." She was surprised they'd asked. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a scratch."

They nodded and got up. "Well, what do we do now? It sounds like the Ironslinger is still fighting those bandits. It's a good distraction that'll let us get out of here."

"What do you mean 'get out of here'?"

They looked taken aback. "What are you talking about? Didn't you just see how weak we are compared to them. I might have been playing dead, but the force of those bullets were seriously enough to knock me off my feet. And all you could do was run away! We're outmatched here, so we might as well run while we can."

"And then what? How are we supposed to take down the Knights if we can't even stand up to some bandits with guns?"

"We will sneak attack them or something. Maybe make a bomb." They didn't sound too convinced by that.

"Tell me how to do that thing again. The power you gave me."

They sighed. "Point out your index finger and tense it."

She did as they asked. That rush of energy ran through her arm again, and suddenly the pain in her shoulder didn't feel so bad.

"Now say the word."

She pointed to a nearby trunk. "Sorrow."

* * * 

There were seven left. Three shotguns and four rifles. He'd shot 18 of them so far, but whenever he did, another bandit would crawl out of some bush and take the guns of the fallen one. He'd counted ten guns so far, a lot more than any other bandit group he'd fought. But now there were more guns than bandits, so the fight should be over soon.
Izaak the Ironslinger, third of his name and ranger of Hadria was ducking behind an oak tree. Despite their rapid loss of numbers they seemed to be getting bolder, maybe sensing that he'd need to reload again soon. Six bullets remained, two in the left gun and four in the right. He wielded his two lesser guns, though he considered switching to his greater ones. They were fully loaded, but he wanted to save them for Abo or Dulii. They'd only be a last resort against these small fry.
He heard the crunch of leaves underfoot, and immediately whipped around and shot them once beneath the neck. They fell to the ground with a grunt as Izaak ducked back behind a tree. A stream of gunfire followed, aiming for where he'd just been. There were six left. Two shotguns and four rifles. Five bullets remained.

He wasn’t scared, though his shoulder throbbed. Doyle had beaten the scared out of him during his training. But he was the closest thing to being scared that he could be while still calling himself an Ironslinger. Or a former one he guessed. He’d sensed the four bandits in the bushes before the ambush by their sound and their smell. Sound more than smell if truth be told. He’d always struggled with the sense of smell. Other Ironslingers could smell smoke from two hundred miles away, even without the wind. He couldn’t do that, so he relied on sound. He could even hear the whispered conversation from those two behind him if he had any desire to.

Instead he’d focused on trying to hear any nearby bandits, a good decision as it turned out. A good Ironslinger could do both, but hearing wasn’t Izaak’s best sense. It was his sight that set Izaak apart. Doyle used to call him Kyte-eye, to the point it became his nickname.

But he didn’t see them, not from behind the thick bushes. He heard them, their breathing. They were eating lead the very next second. From his hearing, he guessed there were around twenty of them. From the sounds of fingers resting on triggers, he guessed they were armed to the teeth, and ducked behind vacant cover accordingly. The other two weren’t so lucky.

The monk man who breathed weirdly fell with three bullets to the back. Not even a grunt. Izaak grimaced, but he had warned them, and at least he’d died soaking up three bullets. The woman soaked another one and crawled behind a tree. He shot her attacker but he knew the woman wouldn't be getting back up before the fight was over. He could see that she was defeated. Well, better defeated than dead, Izaak supposed.

He wasn't scared, only concerned. There had been a lot more bandits in the ambush than he'd anticipated. Perhaps a majority of the force that had raided the village. Were they preparing for the village militia or had his reputation preceded him? If so, where were Abo and Dulii.
They were who he was most concerned about. If they got the drop on him, he was as good as dead. And even in a fair fight he didn't know if he'd manage. He knew he could handle Dulii if he had his greater guns ready, but he had never met Abo, and if the rumours were true, he was Large Man's strongest Captain.

He'd already caught one in the shoulder, so it pained him to even move his right arm. The pain was familiar but that didn't make it nonexistent. He'd thought he could dodge the shotgun spray completely, but clearly he was caught off guard. Doyle would've whacked him in the face for thinking he was so high and invincible, if Doyle was alive that is.
He kept his eyes trained on the forest in front of him. He didn't know Abo, but Dulii was a sneaky one. He'd jump out and kill him if they got the chance. He needed bullets in his gun for when that chance came.

Three sounds this time, from behind the tree. He whipped round and saw two on the right and one on the left. He fired both his guns. The one on the left dropped, but his shoulder throbbed at the wrong time and jerked his right arm wildly. Two shots fired, only one hit, clipping the ear of one of them. Painful but not deadly.
Izaak gritted his teeth and prayed to God, though he knew He wouldn't answer. There were five left. Two shotguns and three rifles. Two bullets remained.

* * * 

"Eighteen! Damn that Izaak! We took steps to prepare for him, and he's still screwing up our plans. Couldn't just let go." The figure in shadow had a deep and displeased voice. Apparently that displeasure frightened his two subordinated in front of him, who trembled. The figure stayed silent for a second, considering something. "At this rate, we won't have enough people to haul the supplies back, and that won't make Chief very happy, no it will not. Where's Abo run off to?"

"He said he was looking for Hellspawn, Captain Dulii."

"Can't he do that later! He's probably sleeping off whatever he did the night before." Dulii grunted in annoyance. "Look, I can take care of the Ironslinger, you two just look for Abo and get him here! We'll figure out the whole supply thing later." The soldiers nodded and hurried off. Dulii sat there pondering for a second before shifting from the shadow. 
Aria had to stifle her breath. He was a spindly creature. Easily seven foot, but that was mostly leg. His arms were long in turn, falling down to his knees.
He grabbed a nearby tree trunk and lifted himself up into the air with surprising grace. He soundlessly began working his way up the tree. Once he got to a certain height, he jumped to another tree, then another. Not a sound.
The two of them just stood there silently until he was out of sight.

"You're going to fight him?" the Devil asked.

"No. We're going to fight him." Aria practiced her pointing again. She was getting pretty fast with it. "Looks like he's going for Izaak, so we better go quickly!"

"Can't we wait until they're done fighting? That monster will be weaker, or the Ironslinger might win outright!" But it was too late. Aria was already running the way Dulii had gone. With a groan, the Devil followed.