Fable - Ask Prisoner Transport

[Arn]

On The Road To Arnim

"Arn, eyes forward." The Lieutenant called out from the back of his horse, glancing only briefly at one of the newest members of the 44th Guard Regiment. "You're driving the cart, not watching the prisoner."

"Yes, Sir, sorry sir." Arn answered quickly, turning his attention back towards the road and clutching the reigns a bit more tightly. It wasn't the first time that his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Though he was supposed to be a professional now, he still couldn't help a small bit of childish intrigue. After all the prisoner they were transporting was something that he had never seen before; a Dreadlord.

None of them had aided in the man...or woman's capture, of course, but they had been entrusted to transfer them back to Arnim for trial and probable execution.

Whoever they were apparently didn't matter. Trussed up in anti-magic chains and thrown into what was quite literally a steel box with holes drilled into it, the prisoner wasn't given much leeway. When Arn had asked how they were given bathroom break the Lieutenant had only stared at him and offered the comment of; 'There's a bucket'.

A notion which had made Arn only frown.

He supposed in the end he shouldn't feel too bad. From what he had heard from some of the veterans, there wasn't exactly a lot of love between the 44th and the Dreadlords, not that he had any personal experience to back that up. Even still, with some of the stories told to him by the others, he was at least curious to get a look at the Sorcerers of Vel Anir.

Maybe when they got to Arnim. They had to take them out of the box at some point, and there would probably be more in the city to watch when the man was executed.

Not that Arn was all too excited about the latter part. He'd never seen a Dreadlord, but he'd never seen anyone die either.

The thought made his stomach churn. Shaking his head Arn took a breath, doing as he had been ordered and focusing upon the road. Besides him, some on horses, some of foot, were a few of the others in the 44th. Some Veterans, though most of the newbies like him. Apparently the Guard wasn't expecting too much trouble on this trip.

A fact Arn was rather glad for. He preferred for his year of service to be nice and quiet.

 

[Owain]

Owain had scored big the night before. Besting a sergeant in a game of cards and exchanging coin for the privilege of "riding shotgun." A role that simply required him to hold a crossbow and look menacing beside the guy driving the wagon.

It was a pretty sweet gig.

"Dreadlords are some scary folk," Owain said stoically, "yeah, I knew a ton of Dreadlords back on the island."

The blonde-haired guard was quick to remind his fellow new recruits that he'd grown up in Vel Odren. The gem of Anirian tourism, the spot where nobility came to relax, a prestigious location filled with wealth and promise.

"That creature back there? It'll eat your momma's soul, farm boy."

Owain was pretty sure that wasn't true but he'd heard the rumors about Dreadlords same as the rest of 'em. Those folks were scary. Containing powers that did Anirius knows what and they weren't afraid to flaunt it. For now he just hoped the farm boy kept his eyes on the road so he could sneak a nap here and there on the path forward.

With a grin and relaxed shoulders he confidently stated, "I'll keep my eyes towards the edges of the road, in cause of bandits, you just keep your eyes forward. Sound good, farm boy?" Owain didn't wait for a resopnse, pulling his hood over his head and positioning himself so that his head was turned towards the gutter that ran paraellel with the road.

His eyelids shut as he tried to capture a brief few moments of sleep.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

A snort left her before she could keep her composure, mounted on horseback at least six paces to the left flank of the cart, she schooled her expression to be one that gave away nothing, as if her reaction to the Vel Odren boy was a figment of the imagination.

Her brown eyes flick to the mouthy one, narrowing her gaze when she saw them take a moment of reprieve. They were on duty, and to be tasked with being the lookout up front meant it was a great responsibility. If it were all to go south, the cart should take off while those taking up defensive positions would ensure a safe escape.

Rhory bit her tongue, then chewed her lip. Chastising was what she used to do to her brothers, but none of them were here. No, she was the only Grimmere to be shipped out and away from Vel Cirak, and now presently serving with the 44th.

"Do you even know how to use that crossbow, Odren Boy?" She asked loudly, intending to be heard. What poor company he must make.

 

[Arn]

"Sounds perfect to me, Owain." Arn had quickly learned that when it came to his time in the Guard it was best he spent his time doing the jobs he was good at.

Steering a cart was easy, shooting a crossbow? Not so much. Arn didn't like the damned things, holding it in the crook of his shoulder didn't feel natural, and the reloadin' was something he could just about do without. No, he preferred his Viretian longbow.

Not an easy thing to use while sitting on a cart though, thus he was better off driving. "He sure does, Rho!"

Arn said with a smile, glancing over to his fellow Guard win a grin. Taking his eyes off the road just long enough to miss the slight shift within the earth some twenty meters ahead. The road moving ever so slightly as though it were not actually made of stone.

"Owain's a crackshot!" The Farmboy claimed happily, though may have been overstating the other boys skills just a tad. "Wouldn't trust anyone else more."

He'd found that complements went a long way with the others. More often than not a happy comment and a cheerful mood was just what those in the regiment needed.

 

[Owain]

A lazy eyelid forced itself open as the rider beside him questioned his capability with a crossbow. Goddess above, the farm boy proved he was good for something by vouching for Owain instantly.

He raised a thumb towards the cart driver. ”Ditto what he said.”

Owain nodded his head up and down so hard that it snapped him fully out of any drowsiness he had left. He looked the Guard who’d chastised him over and decided, almost instantly, that she was one of those ones.

Those ones. The ones who didn’t treat the Guard like a meal ticket and a jumping off point. She actually believed all that crap about, ‘duty and service and the good of Vel Anir.’

”Didn’t catch your name before we set off,” his face was as light and carefree as the Odren breeze, ”I’m Owain. The crackshot!”

In truth, he’d fired a crossbow only a half dozen times during training. He’d managed to actually hit the target twice.

He gestured towards the farm boy holding the reins with his free hand. ”This here’s,” a brief, yet noticeable, pause followed as he realized he hadn’t bothered to learn the chatty driver’s name, ”Argo. This is Argo.”

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

The smile on her lips beamed wickedly, feigning interest as Owain did his best to introduce the driver.

The driver knew her name, and Rhory knew his in return.

Smugly, the young woman lifted a challenging brow. "I think you mean, Arn. And my name, if you didn't bother to learn during training like we all did each other's, is Rhory." Her eyes glanced to the crossbow, then back to Owain. The smile remained.

"You must be a master shot if our dear friend Arn vouches for you. I do look forward to seeing you in action with it."

 

[Arn]

"Ha! He's just kidding!" Arn said with a boisterous laugh, showing that he thought he was being completely honest. Eyes once again leaving the now clearly moving road as he looked at Rhory with a wide smile.

"He knows who you are, Rho!" Arn shook his head, a hand lifting from the cart reigns as he punched Owain in the shoulder. His long times upon the farm having made him lean, but shockingly strong. Even a light tap feeling like hitting the side of a barn. "Owain's always kidding."

Arn said with a chuckle. "One time, when we first got to the barracks h-"

Before the farmboy could finish his story, or perhaps before the Lieutenant could tell him to shut the hell up, the dirt road before them suddenly seemed to explode. A shower of stone and dust was thrown into the air, a huge plume of smoke exploding outward.

From the ground sprang goblins, dozens of them. Jumping from the ditches, newly dug holes in the ground, or even leaping from the trees.

"What the fuck!" Arn shouted, struggling to keep the horses under control as they screamed and attempted to bolt. Cutting hard left and heading towards a ditch by the roadside.

 

[Owain]

"Look, see," he rightly couldn't get why this Raurie girl was giving him so much trouble.

During trainin' they'd been asked to learn how to duel with actual swords, learn how to fire bows and crossbows, learn to survive on scraps, learn to navigate, and worst of all.... run. The running day-in and day-out. Sure, they called it 'marching' but Owain wasn't a fool. They didn't get some leisurely pace, they were asked to go full out by Vel Odren standards!

So what if he didn't have the bandwidth to learn a few names.

Luckily, the farm boy came in clutch again. "I'm a regular jokester," he said with a grin.

He was about to say something else, something no doubt clever or witty, but Arn cried out in shock just as he noticed the weird sproutling popping up from the ground. Owain yelped in surprise right as his driver turned hard to the left.

Good instincts him. They'd get free and out of harms way in a lickety-split. Until, of course, the horses and the cart collided with the ditch he'd pointed their cart directly in the path of. A cloud of dust, dirt, and splintered wood rose up around the blonde-haired Odren native as he let out a racking cough and tried to climb up towards his feet.

"Goblins!" he shouted while taking aim with his crossbow but being too nervous to fire. It didn't even register with him that the crate which house their prisoner Dreadlord had managed to detach itself from the wagon.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

There had been no opportunity for Rhory to retort with anything before a conmotion on the road up ahead caught them by surprise. With skill and quick reflexes, Rhory guided her horse out of the way from the wayward cart.

She was not a good soldier fighting while fighting, and with quick succession, Rhory was dropping her boots to the dirt and kicking up dust as she went to meet the creatures that waylaid their transport.

It was not until she clashed with them for a few that she realised Big Mouth amd Arn were nowhere to be seen, and a quick turn around saw them in the ditch, cart turned over.

"Fuck." She abandoned her cause, turning to go check on the guardsmen she spent six months training with.

"Hey! Arn! Owain! I need to know whether you are dead or not!" Make a noise at least!

Her panic was on them, not on the prisoner they were entrusted to take to destination.

 

[Arn]

"Alive!" Arn shouted as he picked himself out of the wreckage of the cart.

His head was spinning, and he was pretty sure that he'd cracked a rib, but all in all he was whole. He glanced briefly to his side where Owain was already bravely fighting the enemy. A spike of panic rushing through him as he heard the other guardsmen call out their foe.

"Goblins?!" He shouted, eyes immediately flickering down as he searched desperately for his ax or bow. Both having been stowed in the cart, though the strings for the latter being tucked into his belt. "I didn't know they were real!"

Arn said as he dove for his ax, scooping up the weapon with all the veracity he was capable of.

As he did so the goblins swarmed down, moving in a great horde. Some hacking and slashing at whatever foe they could reach, while others headed directly towards the fallen box of steel. One in particular carrying what appeared to be a heavy sledge. Though in his diminutive green hands appeared a hammer made only for war.

"Rho!" Arn shouted over the edge of the cart. "What...what do we do!?"

"KILL THEM YOU IDIOTS!" The Lieutenant shouted from somewhere close.

 

[Owain]

"Nothing broken," Owain echoed Arn's cry back towards Rho as he kept his crossbow steady on the advancing horde of goblins.

The damn things were ugly. Marching about with leathery, green, skin and spreaking in their miserable language of gobbledygook. The implements they wielding were haphazardly made, one carrying something that resembled a butcher's knife but with jagged edges all around. Another with a comically large hammer.

"KILL THEM YOU IDIOTS!"

The Lieutenant's voice rang out. Much easier said than done, just staring at the disgusting beasts made the young Guard feel sick. In a panic he pointed his crossbow towards the closest one and fired a bolt off. It missed his target but the bolt stuck itself into the thigh of one of the other charging creatures.

A yelp of pain erupted from the bizarre goblin's lungs and an inky blood spurted forth, causing Owain's stomach to lurch.

Owain drew his short blade, his spear being buried somewhere in the wagon's rubble. "This is crazy, how are we meant to fight all these things?" He thought about turning on his heel and running but he'd seen what the Anirians did to deserters. Instead he stood near Arn and swung his blade back-and-forth trying to scare off the little mites.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

"What he said." She answered through gritted teeth, turning to see a few hot on her heels but were not impervious to her twin blades. More came upon them and she swore beneath her breath. "Persistent little shits."

Rhory was fending off four of them before a fifth launched themselves at her side, effectively catching her off balance and falling to the earth. She fought, wrestling with it in desperate attempts to get back on her feet. She had one arm free, the other pinned down and blade jutting into her light armour.

She struggled for a while, dropping her second blade and tried to reach for the dagger strapped at her thigh. Only when she could pull it free did Rhory roll her body and use the momentum to drive the dagger into the head of the goblin. Blood poured over her face before she was able to push the slackened body from herself.

But the attacks did not cease before another was upon her. "Cut them down!" She cried, a panic rising in her voice. Rhory was tiring, not in a viable position to do much damage. Her brothers back home would have told her to do better, to get up and make them regret it but Rhory was nothing like her brothers. She only knew what she did about being in the Guard by being their target practice.

 

[Arn]

A thunderous echo crested through the small ridge as the goblins sledgehammer battered against the cage's steel.

Arn was almost too engrossed in the fight in front of him to feel the vibration. Only catching it as his pulled his blade free from the third goblin he'd slain. Somehow killing them didn't feel...as bad as it had another man, perhaps what his grandfather had always said about the greenskins was always right.

They were rather strange looking after all...and unreasonable. He'd offered terms to the first two! Neither had even answered. "Owain!"

He suddenly tried to warn, bending down and scooping up a goblin knife.

The blade flicking forward and burying itself in a Goblin warg's shoulder. The thing suddenly shifting off course as it's muscle seized and the blade pulled it's off course. "Get something to pierce its ne-"

Before he could finish, another thud ran out through the clearing, and then the cage cracked open. Like a swarm of mites to a pool of blood the goblin swarmed to the opening, ripping apart the seam and freeing the man within. His collar their next project, thieving smiths chipping away at a lock as the Guardsmen fought for their lives.

 

[Owain]

Just a short distance away, unbeknownst to Owain, Rhory was in the epicenter of a goblin swarm. No doubt handling herself perfectly fine! In the rubble of the cart things were less dandy.

Arn had tried to convince two goblins to surrender. Neither had really answered him, unless the snarl the second one gave counted as a reply. For his own part, Owain managed to stay a few paces back from Arn and let the farmer do most of the heavy lifting. Getting that disgusting, thick, blood on his uniform was something he had hoped to avoid.

Reality dawned though as the iron of the prisoner's cage creaked open.

"Son of Pneria," his eyes went wide as he realized what the goblins were up to. Before he had time to react to anything else he jerked to the side and pressed his shortblade as deep into the warg's neck as he could. Sparing Arn of whatever awful fate was in store for him.

"GUARDS! TO ME!" the Lieutenant cried out as he tried to cut a path through the goblin's towards their captive. A path that was precariously close to Rhory. "Argo!" Dammit, in the excitement of battle he still couldn't remember the farm boy's name, "we've got to press towards..."

It was too late.

The goblins were already making progress on the lock held firm around the Dreadlord's collar. "We need to get the ever living fuck out of here." Owain struggled to pull the blade he'd stuck into the dead warg out, prying it free just in time to cut down another approaching goblin in a few clumsy motions.

That prisoner, that thing, was going to kill them all once the goblin hoard freed him. There was no doubt about it.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

Rhory took her chance when she saw a few goblins become distracted by the opening of the cage doors.

She shoved them away, rolling for her blades and promptly joined the Lieutenant in cutting a path, his own sword sweeping above her head, but she had no time to witness his annoyed face at almost beheading her. Instinct told her to go to her guard mates, to back them up. Fuck, her arms were tired. Her back hurt, even. But she fought through all that.

If Owain fell, she would miss having someone to pick on. If Arn died, Rhory would probably have to take charge.

She didn't want any of those things to happen.

Rhory was relentless in her blade work. She cut down the goblins that made a move towards the boys, not stopping until she reached the breached cage. Her sword claimed goblin after goblin, almost getting to the few working the collar of the Dreadlord before she froze suddenly.

 

[Arn]

"No we should he-" Arn suddenly found the words dying on his throat as he too felt himself freeze in place. In fact, it seemed that everyone suddenly froze in place. Including the Goblins who had been freeing the Guardsmen's prisoner.

Unable to turn his head, Arn could only shift his eyes to look at the only moving figure within the clearing. The steel cell now broken open, a much taller man standing amongs dozens upon dozens of greenskins. They, just as the guardsmen, seemed entirely frozen solid.

But for some reason, Arn could feel their glee.

A hand came up from the now loose chains which had held the Dreadlord. Fingers wrapped around the cloth hood that had been covering his head. He smiled as he breathed the fresh air, but then a look of confusion flickered over his features as he saw the goblins.

"Urgir!" A voice called, though Arn couldn't see from where. One of the others would perhaps catch a glimpse though, another man, dressed in the tattered black coat of a Dreadlord.

"Come on!" The stranger called to the freed prisoner. "The spell won't last much longer!"

The Dreadlord grinned, and then offered a glance towards the the Guardsmen. He offered a mock salute, and then broke into a limping run. Passing out of Arn's eyeline, and heading directly towards the other man. Within just a minute they were both gone. "-elp Ro!"

Arn found himself shouting, his body unfreezing, and ax finishing it's swing as he cleaved a goblin in two.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" He shouted in a panic, his entire body itching as he suddenly regained feeling in every extremity.

 

[Owain]

Everything seized up. Owain couldn't move. Dear gods, he couldn't move!

Then he could and off in the distance he could see the Dreadlord they'd been transporting running off into the thickets with another figure. Already too far gone for him to keep track of which direction they'd headed off to.

For a second the Odren Guard thought about replying to Arn but there were still a few goblins trickling through and he itched like crazy. Owain sidestepped an approaching greenskin before plunging a blade upwards through the creatures jaw. The blonde haired soldier struggled to loose his weapon from the dead creature's maw and he backed away as another goblin drew near.

Thinking quickly he drew a crossbow bolt from his side pouch but before he could test his luck he heard a horn billow and the goblins all immediately turned tail and retreated. Dispersing out into the same thicket their prisoner had retreated towards.

The Lieutenant was pacing around, counting the injured members of the Guard and cursing under his breath.

"Man, fuck Dreadlords." Owain finally pried his shortsword from the dead goblin's face and wiped the sticky black blood off on a loincloth the blasted creatures wore.

He was itchy, the Dreadlord was gone, and now Rho was approaching them. "Rhory, where were you!?" He said in disbelief, "Arn and I had to fight like, thirty goblins! Did you see that Dreadlord use his magic? It was nuts."

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

"Is that all?" She grumbled, now reaching her gloved hand to wipe away the ichor that painted across her face and mouth. "Sorry I didn't save your pretty arses, I was too busy being a foot away from the prisoner before he ended up using his magic." She rolled her eyes at Owain before pausing before them both. She gave them a quick glance over, figuring they weren't too badly injured.

Rhory was sure her muscles were going to be bitching at her tomorrow.

"I almost got to him... I could have stopped those goblins..." Rhory scowled, knowing if she hadn't been overwhelmed, she could have fended off the goblins from getting too close to the Dreadlord prisoner.

 

[Arn]

"Was that what that was?" Arn said with a small wonder in his voice, almost forgetting that he had been viciously killed a few moments ago. Instead marveling at the fact that he had apparently been touched by some sort of magic.

Back home those stories had seemed entirely absurd, but...well, he'd felt it. His whole body had frozen in place, and even though he'd been able to move...even his tongue had been frozen still. "Crazy."

Arn said softly, more to himself than the others. "But, I'm glad it's over."

The Guardsmen reasoned, because obviously it was.

"Though." He began with a frown. "What were goblins even doing here? Or helping free a Dreadlord. Don't they like...hate us?"

In the stories Goblins were always chaotic and vile things. Bent on corruption and destruction with not much more purpose than that. What were they doing trying to free a Dreadlord? "An astute observation, Private Arn."

The Lieutenant said, stepping up to the trio with a hobble. Some of the others had immediately seen to his injuries, but it was clear that the man was worse for fare. In fact, most of their little prison transport seemed to be. They had fought well, but Goblins fought in numbers. It was hard not to get cut on the leg by one of the bastards while another was being run through by your blade.

"Perhaps you'll find out when you go after them." Their commander said, causing Arn's eyes to immediately bug out of his head.

Panic flickering through his chest as he looked at Owain and Rho.

 

[Owain]

"You were a foot away from the Dreadlord?" It was a genuine statement of shock. Rhory was lucky to still be alive, those cretins killed regular humans just for the hell of it. "It's all good though, we sent those goblins runnin' away in a panic." As if to punctuate his point Owain sheathed his shortblade in a dramatic fashion.

He nodded along to everything Arn stated. It was funny, only after being in his first real battle did Owain appreciate some of the tales combat veterans told. Having each other's back, risking life and limb for the glory of the Guard. On an intellectual level he really got why it mattered to other people.

Arn and Rho would absolutley risk their lives to save someone as amazing as him.

"Goblins and Dreadlords are probably pals." he said only after the farmboy was finished speaking, "but both of 'em are cowards. You saw the way the Dreadlord and his goblins ran away? No doubt they saw us rough them up and they wanted no part of what the Guard had in store."

He puffed out his chest as confidence shone through. Then, the Lieutenant spoke and all of the color left Owain's face. He opened his mouth to protest, how were a bunch of rookies supposed to subdue a Dreadlord, but the stern look the officer bore forced Owain to bite his tongue.

"You'll likely need this," the officer called as he tossed the shackle that was around the Dreadlord's neck to Arn, "not sure if it'll work anymore but we'd like him alive."

This wasn't happening. They couldn't be expected to go after a man who could fell armies! Dreadlords were dangerous, they'd sent an entire squad just to transport one! An idea blossomed in his head and Owain spoke up, "gosh Arn, that's a really big responsibility. I'm sure you can pull it off though, I'm going to go help the medics with-"

"Privates Awbrey and Grimmere will be accompanying you. I suggest you leave soon, you're losing daylight the longer you wait around."

Well. Shit.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

Rhory turned a sharp glance to their Lieutenant, surprised that the three of them were entrusted to pursue the prisoner. She then turned to the boys, her brows furrowed. "They're on foot, we have horses. We could catch up to them... but what then? We all saw what that Dreadlord did to escape us."

How could they overpower someone with the ability to freeze someone for mere seconds? What if he kept them that way?

Rhory looked to Arn, on account of Owain certainly not stepping up to the plate with bright ideas. She was not one to take the lead, had always left that up to her brothers of father and herself playing the part of dutiful soldier.

"What are you thinking?"

 

[Arn]

Arn wanted to raise his own objection, but as Owain laid down his praise he spark of shame flickered through his chest. This was what Guardsmen were supposed to do. They were Protectors of the realm. The bulwark against all who would threaten Vel Anir and it's sister cities. In the the face of fear they were supposed to spit.

He might not have liked it, but Owain was right. It was a big responsibility, but the Lieutenant wouldn't have entrusted the mission to them if they couldn't pull it off!

Of course, that completely ignored the piece of information that was screaming at Arn in the back of his mind. A bit of strategy he has read about using a lesser force to tie down a greater opponent and prevent retreat until proper reinforcements could be summoned. In this case, the trio of rookies being the lesser force.

Arn didn't realize it, and apparently neither did Rhory or Owain.

They were a sacrificial lamb, a gambit so Lieutenant might have time to go to the nearest garrison to garner reinforcements. If they died in the process but stalled the Dreadlord from escaping? Well, their sacrifice would be noted and the medals would be sent to their family. ”I ummm…”

The Farmboy stuttered as Rho looked to him, his face coloring as he realized…he was in charge?

”We should…yeah take the horses!” He declared, glancing towards the remaining mounts as the Lieutenant and the other Injured Dreadlords began to make haste down the road. ”But, when we get close on their tail we drop to foot.”

Arn said, trying his best to sound a little more confident. ”I can track them, especially if they're moving with those goblins, and then…”

And then what? Arn glanced down at the collar that had once adorned the Dreadlords neck, lips pressing to a thin line.

”We'll…figure it out.” He told the other two, glancing at Owain. ”We got this.”

Arn continued, though sounding like he was trying to assure himself more than them.

 

[Owain]

Using the horses was a fine idea but if it were up to Owain they’d have ditched the collar that they’d supposedly need to capture their prey. Sure, the Lieutenant said he wanted the Dreadlord alive but Owain had a crossbow. Their best chance at not dying horribly was to just fire a bolt at their adversary before he even knew they were on his trail.

It wasn’t really conceivable to him that the Guard would let anyone die. Least of all, himself.

So their commanding officer’s orders made very little sense. How were they going to capture a Dreadlord while not dying? It was an oxymoron. A delusion from an officer who probably got bonked on the head by some terrible little goblin.

”Alright, horses it is,” Owain said as he retrieved his spear and loaded another bolt into his crossbow.

He waited until the trio had began to depart, all mounted and moving at a decent pace following Arn’s lead. ”So, uh, I have an idea,” he didn’t dare speak his plan while they were still within earshot of the rest of the squadron, ”see, the problem is that Dreadlord can like, freeze us. Right?”

He glanced over at Arn before craning his neck to catch Rhory’s gaze too.

”But I’m pretty sure he needs to know we’re coming before he can freeze us up.” The blonde-haired Guard hoped his companions were following the same train of logic he wanted to guide them towards. In his mind the chance that they captured the Dreadlord, while not being brutally murdered, was pretty low. ”If he doesn’t see us at all, and he gets killed, then he can’t freeze us.”

Owain broke eye contact with his comrades so that he could glance back at the crossbow strapped to his back. Quietly praying that the two of them would go along with his strategy even if it defied their orders a bit. ”I’m sure accidents happen in the Guard all the time.”

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

"And what? You think we could kill him? What about the goblin that took off with him?" Did the others follow him to give the Dreadlord safe passage somewhere?

"We can trap him if we can get ahead of him. I know how to set some, but we need to be sure where he would go. The last town we were at, there was no Guard or Dreadlord presence. No one saw him, and he probably will try to lay low there before moving on." Vel Cirak was under constant terror most weeks from creatures, and growing up, every child born and residing there was taught how to rig up impressive traps.

Rhory took to them better than most of her brothers, and was confident with some time and calculation, she could do something to stop the Dreadlord in his tracks long enough for them to cuff him.

 

[Arn]

Arn nodded his head slowly at Owain's words, dubious about twisting the assignment in such a way...but he had a point. Taking the Dreadlord alive seemed almost impossible. Even with the collar, they couldn't exactly snap it around his neck without him seeing them coming.

The Farmboy didn't like the idea of killing, but he couldn't really think of a way to get passed the problem any other way. Then, Rho brought up the goblins. "Yeah, what was with that?"

He repeated himself form earlier, glazing over Rho's suggestion of traps for a moment and hitting upon their green enemy.

"Why would a bunch of Goblins help out a Dreadlord? They aren't exactly helpful." Not from what the gleeman's stories said, anyway. "Wait..."

Arn said with a frown. "The Dreadlord talked to someone, another human I think...is it...is it possible there's two of them?"

He frowned, could Dreadlord's have goblin magic? "I think either way..."

The Guardsmen continued, remembering that he was technically in charge.

"You're both right." As much as he hated to say it, they had to kill the man. "We can outrun them with horses, and I doubt he'll want to stay with a bunch of Goblins."

Even if his friend did have goblin magic. "Let's get ahead on the road and set up an Ambush. It's the only way."

Combining both of their plans was the best of both worlds in Arn's eyes. They could strike at the Dreadlord unexpectedly and hopefully take him out before he ever had a chance at using his magic.