B7C1

"Forty or fifty," she called back. "Well armed, mounted and headed directly here." Nervous whispers spread, the words being passed down from the walls to those in the village proper. I grit my teeth as the tension spread. So many? We'd never faced bandits in such numbers. Blake leaned down and tapped her feet against her mount's flank, guiding him around the walls to the north entrance, where she would be able to slip in to safety.

"We should defend the walls," Anders said immediately. "Hold them here where their mounts will make for no advantage. Once everyone is back inside, I say we close the gates and prepare for what may come."

"There are eight Heroes here," Weiss said. "That makes for five enemies apiece. It's a fight we can handle, so long as the militia here buy us time to deal with each of them individually. The odds aren't insurmountable."

"I'd say they're in our favour," Pyrrha said. "With Ansel's organised militia numbering fifty itself, we should be fine."

"I'm talking about a battle to limit casualties. They're trained but no Soldiers. An even fight is the last thing they need." The Mage shook her head and sighed. "Never mind. We'll do what we must. I may be able to whip something up to even the odds."