Unlikely Allies [Broly]

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Vladimir was bored. He had joined up with the merchant caravan hoping that something exciting would happen. Instead he'd been stuck on the edge of the wagon, the young dark mage left to his own devices as he found amusement in cursing random animals, or at least what few would dare poke their heads above ground during the daylight hours. The whole thing was just so... boring. He almost wished he was back with his old masters, if only so that there was something to do to make the hours pass faster than molasses limping down through an hourglass. The desert was boring and stupid and pointless and it should have ended days ago, and yet the stupid merchant leader had said that they weren't even halfway through the expanse between Grust and Medon.

The young boy has almost cursed the man himself out of sheer spite; instead, he had contented himself with viciously causing the death of a jackrabbit that had darted across the sand, his dark magic causing its muscles to slowly seize up one by one before its heart gave out and it finally passed on. Grima above, he would have even taken an attack from Ylisse if it meant there was an end to the boredom. Instead, the blond made due with what he had, hopping off of the wagon when the caravan stopped for the night, having cursed himself to go without the need for food for a few days after he'd first tasted the cooking provided to him - needless to say, it wasn't very good, and he could already tell that when he broke his curse, the hunger that would immediately set upon him would be intense.

He kicked a rock, watching it dance across the sand before him, a scowl over his features and a pout pushing out his lips. What was is going to take to get some entertainment around here?

@broly

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"you know i'm bad, i'm bad, i'm really really bad"   ☒ @tagged ✐ 000 ✉ notes MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

Much unlike what the caravan of merchants and the tagalongs expected, the nights went by amazingly smooth, with no casualties whatsoever or even a sign of any desert dwellers around. It would be ideal to strike at night, when it's cold and the animals carrying the wagons are taking their rest, but the time of attack was unpredictably, by noon, when the travelers were most awake; right before a regular time for lunch, too. And that was because, Broly was alone for a change. The rest of the lowly bandits following him around on occasions were nowhere to be found, as the harsh deserts were just not their field of expertise, not familiarizing themselves with the common term 'desert bandits'. On the redhead's case however, being deprived of food for an entire day was too much, and even in this intense, unbearable heat, a raid was in favor. Why now? Because the world be damned. As the group of wagons climbed up a rather tall dune to find get across the desert in the path, troublesome as it indeed was, a man was waiting for them on the top. He had been watching their movements from afar since dawn, and kept his camouflage perfectly unnoticed by sweeping movements below wheels and using a large robe covering his body and blending in with the desert's sandy colors. For a while now he had planned an effective course of assault, to efficiently conquer the caravan on his own and break through any defenses they might hold, as a merchant caravan simply cannot go unguarded; mercenaries or partners. In short, Broly was planning a single-man guerilla assault. Gripping strongly at his enormous axe, the bandit began his attack by giving a scare to the two horses pulling the first of the wagons, by smashing his weapon directly at the dune's top, using the shock from the sudden rise and the wind's direction to startle the animals, throwing them off-guard. The man holding the leashes, was similarly deceived, as the wall of sand gushed out at them, blocking their eyesight. The bandit proceeded to rush quickly forward, striking the sand twice more to make the 'mirage' of an approaching sandstorm more believable. As the front found itself occupied with calming the drivers down, Broly snuck to the back of the caravan's wagons, hopping on it and commencing in physically knocking out anybody who dared attempt fight back or call for help. First cart, conquered. But he wasn't satisfied with that. "We're under attack!!" He yelled out towards the other wagons, trying to avert their attention to his place by perfectly imitating one of the travelers' voices. "It's a bandit ra-- Guaaah!!" And thud, and done. They should arrive to check what was happening soon enough, but by the time they will, the predator would already be gone from sight. Commencing stage two.