"Brigands", they say. Yeah, right. The chaff, sure. But the core of the formation? If those ain't trained soldiers she'd eat her hat. The arms and whatnot looked like they're grabbed off the forgotten corner of some armoury and any identifying crest or color painted over, but that wouldn't change the method of which these fine folks wield them.

Duck. Swing low. Crunches and horrified scream. Stomp on the neck and move on. Halt, lean back. Let the polehammer swing past. Advance again, downward swing and crush the head. Risk a glance. The town militia still held line. Good enough. Continue, reach the center. Pikemen behind shields, classic. Tap into her blood, parry and shatter the pike. Swing again, catch the shield by the edge and [i]rip [/i]it out of the arm. Wielder's off-balance, smash him in the shoulder and down he goes. Gap wouldn't stay for long, but the shieldwall's open. Plunge straight in. Deep breath. [i]Howl[/i].

And that's the end of it. Like a rabid fox in a henhouse, Yvonne tore her way through the formation until what remained finally broke and flee. She's not chasing that remnant, curse them and their longer legs. Bit of a shame about the per-head payment, but whatever. That's just a nice bonus.

Taking a deep breath, the Rosenving scion took a moment evaluating the battle as her mind slowly unswitch from the battle trance. A few nicks on the hauberk, some bruises, but not as bad as it could've been. The seemingly patchwork adornment of faded fabric had gained notoriety alongside her name, these past few years, and the effect was getting more and more pronounced over time. These people recognized what it signify, and half of them wavered just from Yvonne getting closer. Ironic how every soldier was drilled at how rout was the greatest killer in a battlefield, yet it still happen anyway. The logical part of the mind didn't always won against the more animalistic tendencies.

All in all, light losses on her person. Right arm, shoulder, and down to the hip will be sore for a day or two, but that's a price she's used to pay. For now though - tallying, and return to get paid...

"Miss Yvonne Rosenving?"

Yvonne paused, her mentality flipping back into battle. The militias and other mercenaries were combing through the field like carrion eaters, so she didn't paid much attention as long as they didn't get too close. This one stopped well outside a weapon's reach, which was fine and dandy, but the usage of her old family name wasn't. She didn't go by that, and anyone that do recognize it were usually on their payroll to bring her back. She heard that the fools finally burned through their remaining wealth and faded into obscurity a few years back, but it wouldn't do to be complacent. This was still Kindeance territory, however fringe, one that she's not even gonna bother stepping into four years ago. Too easy for the Rosenving to mobilize a sizeable force should they wanted to.

She eyed the newcomer, first noticing the pristine uniform. Not someone who participated in the battle, then. Her grip on the mace tighten a fraction before she noticed the crest on his pauldron, one that wasn't quite possible to forget. The royal family's crest. Huh, lad looked young so likely a squire but what's the royal knights had to do with her?

[b][color=#a4161a]"Yeah, tis' I. What's a fancypants like you doing so far out from the capital?"[/color][/b]

There's the slowly-escalating skirmishes, and she knew for a fact that both sides were mustering troops at the border. But even then the king's knights wouldn't be anywhere near that, unless the royal family themselves was present. Had the little prince grew up enough for this? Maybe the twerp grew some backbone in the eight years since Yvonne last seen him. Cant think of other reason for the knighthood to specifically comes looking for her.

"Squire Anderson at your service, ma'am. I bear a missive, for your eyes only." The lad was keeping himself under control well enough as he passed an envelope emblazoned with the royal seal, though he's clearly uncomfortable from how his eyes darted at the various corpses and the bloodstain on Yvonne's mace. She didn't comment, warily taking the envelope before glancing through the content.

It managed to be unnecessarily lengthy while at the same time didn't convey much information at all. By the royal family's authority her expertise was wanted in the capital, keep her movement discreet, dispose of the message after she's done reading, and that's just sum up the important bits from an entire page of words. What a waste of ink. The job wasn't even mentioned, even though her skillset boiled down to thorough deliverance of extreme violence Yvonne would like to know what she'd be up against at least.

Still, she grinned as she passed the missive back where the young squire fiddled around with his fingers before the whole thing caught aflame. Not even the Rosenving at their peak could get away with impersonating the royal seal, so it should be safe enough. Imagine a contract for the royal family - risk will be high, no illusion on that, but the rewards should be a good match to it. Besides, they're generous enough to pay for her trip. A small gesture, but let's make the most out of it yeah?

[b][color=#a4161a]"Very well then, Andy. Can I call you Andy? I'll collect today's payment and then we shall be on our merry ways."[/color][/b]

*****

Good thing there's no one to bet with, because Yvonne would've put her money on the prince being the reason of the summon and thus lose out quite decisively. She eyed the room, the king looked quite a bit older while that was- hey, if it wasn't Mattie. A real knight now, huh? Good for her.

The mercenary knelt, and rose before the king finished his sentence. Being impertinent wouldn't do, normally, but the whole situation was weird enough and there's things to gleam out of people simply by behaving out of expectations. The fact that old Freddy tolerate her antic without even a word? Why, that's interesting.

...ah, so that's why. The twerp of a prince went and got himself nabbed. That's no good at all, nope. And from the time frame, should've been quite some time. Sure hope the trail hadn't gone cold by now.

[b][color=#a4161a]"I'll just state it now. Your majesty."[/color][/b] The title was added a beat too late, as if she had initially forgotten to do so. [b][color=#a4161a]"I kill things. Ain't much for finding things. Hope the rest of this merry band can offset that part."[/color][/b] She eyed the crew, not even recognizing any of them. Probably a good thing? Since anyone Yvonne personally recognizes likely would be just another killer for hire. Cant have their role overlaps now, yeah?