Fable - Ask Prisoner Transport

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Owain wasn’t an expert on Dreadlords but he knew they were human. Or at least, they used to be before all their whacky training at the academy. A crossbow bolt to the chest was going to kill anyone if they didn’t expect it.

He let the topic die though, if Rhory and Arn thought they could set a trap for their target so be it. He could always just keep his weapon trained and fire off a shot if things went south.

”Umm, excuse me?” Arn pointed out a factoid that’d gone completely over Owain’s head, ”you think there’s not one but two of those freaks!?” Plus a small platoon of green-skinned menaces.

How were they meant to deal with two Dreads? His mind could barely process trying to deal with one! ”This takes like two full minutes to reload if I have to shoot it at two,” he shut his mouth and decided to rephrase, ”if the traps fall through I’m only going to have one shot at crippling the Dreadlord before we can capture him.”

And if there were two of them?

He kept his mouth shut as they rode on, following Rhory’s lead to the spot where they could cut their prey off. ”Let me know what you need me to help with,” he offered while dismounting his horse.
 
Two possible targets?

Rhory shrugged. She reached out a hand towards Arn. "Let's see the nullifier." It had been around his neck, and with quick work, the annoying pests had gotten it off. This time, they needed to be sure it would be secure enough to not be taken away so easily the next time. When he handed it to her, Rhory spent time looking it over, studying it.

"Runes still look intact. If we can just get this around an arm or a leg..." The idea was forming in her head, but it also meant one of them had to get close enough to cuff the Dreadlord. And she knew that Owain wouldn't be up for that with his crossbow.

"We can figure this out later." Rhory secured the nullifer in the pack tied to the saddle. "We need to hurry, the more time we put between us and those on foot, the better time spent on trapping." And Rhory moved her horse to take the lead, urging her comrades to follow. They would take the main road, having seen the escapees use the road that took them away from frequent traffic.
 
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Setting up a trap, as it turned out, wasn't as hard as Arn had thought it would be.

It seemed that Rho had learned more than a few things in Vel Cirak, the staunch fortress city used to curtailing monsters that some deemed far worse than Dreadlords. Though he wasn't sure that everyone would agree with that fact.

Using supplies from their saddlebags and a few branches and leaves that were lying around, the trio of Guardsmen managed to fashion a number of rudimentary traps. Nothing that would offer a killing blow, but enough to cause a few moments of distractions.

They figured it might be enough, or at least hoped.

Sitting just off to the side of the three Dreadlords lay in wait. Twilight was beginning to set in, the sun slowly falling towards the edges of the land and casting a dim orange glow over everything. They had seen no one on the road, something Arn was glad for. It would have been awkward to explain to a merchantmen why he was suddenly hanging upside down.

"So..." The Farmboy whispered softly as they waited, laying in the bushes. "What do you make of the goblins?"

He asked silently, not able to get the little green fellows out of his head.
 
Owain had never used runic nullifiers or set basic snares but he was learning a bit about both today.

He pitched in and, at least in his mind, was actually sort of useful for laying the various traps. Although his contribution to how the cuff worked was little more than a shrug. The next part of their task was way worse than setting the traps, though... they had to wait around.

In bushes. In the dirt.

"I hated those fuckin' goblins," Owain whispered back, disgust dripping from his lips. "No idea why Dreadlords would be pals with them. Can't imagine they make for good company but maybe Dreadlords are just twisted in the head like that."

He'd heard plenty of stories about how Dreadlords were utter psychopaths, devoid of any empathy, but to make friends with goblins? "Wait," Owain said with a jolt, "what if one of the Dreadlords is like that story of the piper and the mice?"

The guy from the fairy tale books they read as kids. He could command an army of little mice with a flute.

"If we see a little flute I'm breaking it."
 
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"That is highly possible... We all did come to a freeze at the same time. Thank goodness, or else I think I could have fallen right into that transport cell." She whispered, rubbing at her neck where some goblin blood stained her pale features. "Flute or not, we can operate with this knowledge."

Rhory huffed and gave up. It looked like she would need a nice hot bath and a good scrub to get the blood off of her face, neck, and armour. "Ugh. I do hope he's ditched the fucking goblins." She grumbled lightly, sparing an annoyed glance towards Arn and Owain. "Then I don't have to worry about cutting them down and getting more of their blood on me."

A quiet fell on the trio just as in the distance, the sounds of dirt, rock, and leaves were being trampled upon. Rhory stilled, eyes watching the road.
 
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Arn was about to say something when the rumble of dozens of tiny feet began to shake the earth. The Farmboy’s head lowering ever so slightly more as around the corner of the road the first of the Green skins began to show.

Moving less in an ordinary line and more as a large blob, the goblins trudged forward. Counting them was difficult, though Arn would have sworn there couldn't be more than a little over dozen or so left of the creatures. Though it had been hard to tell in the battle, it seems the Guard had made quite a dent in their number.

It wasn't the Green skins that worried the Farmboy though, no.

The two men striding behind them, appearing full of glee and confidence. One was easily recognized as their prisoner, though he now wore clothes instead of the prison rags the guard had put him in. The other was, disturbingly, almost a carbon copy of the man whom had been freed. The only difference being the former was still covered in wounds from when he had been originally captured.

Arn glanced at his companions with a slight frown. Mouthing a single word. Brothers?

It was the only answer that made sense. He'd never heard of siblings being Dreadlords, much less twins. Though then again…a few weeks ago he'd never even seen a Dreadlord.

Arn drew his attention back to the Goblins, and then realized something.

”Shit.” He realized suddenly. ”They're going to set off the traps.”

The words were a hushed whisper, but injected with no small amount of panic. He shifted, then regarded his friends. ”I'll pull them off, you get the Dreadlords into the trap.”

Arn said, pushing himself off the ground and suddenly darting down the side of the embankment. He rushed twenty or thirty yards down, sprinting as fast as he could so that he appeared behind their foes. Jumping through the bushes for a brief moment as he shouted.

”HEY! YOU LITTLE STUPID GREEN DUMBIES AND FAT HEADED DREADLORDS!” The Farmboy called, never even considering the magic he might face.
 
"Yeah," Owain found himself agreeing with Rhory for once, "goblins really su-" his voice died in his throat as they caught a glimpse of the two Dreadlord and their goblin cohort.

Arn was kind enough to point out something that had even escaped the genius of Owain. The goblins were leading the way.

Before he could bother protesting their fearless leader rattled off a half-brained plan and then sprang from the bushes and enticed the little green men to give chase. It was such a dumb idea and Owain would've let him know had he stuck around for a few seconds longer. At any moment one of the Dreadlords - who appeared to be brother - could just freeze Arn in his tracks and derail the entire plan he had presented.

Light brown eyes darted over toward Rhory, "this ain't good." To his surprise though the goblins were giving chase amidst the laughter of the Dreadlords they were meant to hunt down. Then, a plan dawned on Owain as well. "I've got an idea," he told Rhory casually.

Then, he stood from the brush and calmly walked a few paces out from the traps they'd set before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Hey you two!"

Both Dreadlords whipped their heads away from Arn and toward the blonde Guard from Vel Odren. Now that he had their attention he lowered his voice a few decibels before continuing.

"We should join up. I know exactly where the Guard is heading next," he stared off at Arn, "poor bastard thought he could take down a bunch of goblins and two Dreadlords? See, I'm smarter than that. We should talk. Make a deal."

Owain stood perfectly still with his hands stretched outwards. If this went according to plan maybe both Dreads would get caught in the trap? If it didn't, well, maybe the Dreadlords would end his life quickly.
 
Rhory shook her head violently as soon as Owain said he had an idea.

She even clawed at him, to keep him in place, but he shrugged her off easily.

Grimmere was left alone, unsure of what his idea even was because none of the boys seemed to think this through!

Tucking her pale hair into the hood of her jacket, she angled herself to get a better vision of the two accomplices and the guardsman. The two brothers looked at each other, deciding to entertain the boy.

"I don't think you're convincing either of us. Besides, we have no need for a turncoat." Rhory furrowed her brows, trying to see how close their feet were from the trigger that would sweep them to hang from their ankles. Clutching the nullifying collar, she slowly began to move to a better spot to run out from and clamp it back shut around the Dreadlord... but being twins, did they both have magic to wield?

Did they both need to be nulled from their magic?

Owain would need to kill the other... while Rhory worked the collar back on their fugitive.
 
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The distraction worked...kind of.

Owain threw in his own wrench, and the Dreadlord's seemed more bemused than they did angry. Though ones answer at least was exactly what the Farmboy had been hoping for. The goblin's that had been at the head of the column suddenly shifting. "You fucking idiots."

One of the men called out to the Guardsmen.

"What is this, your first week?" A laughter escaped from his brothers throat, and Arn felt his stomach drop. Not wanting to admit that...yes this was close to their first week. "You lot, slaughter that one."

The Dreadlord said, using his thumb to point over his shoulder as the swarm of goblins suddenly shifted and began to rush back towards the Farmboy. Arn's eyes opening wide as the group of greenskins suddenly seemed to be far larger than he had remembered. "Shit."

He said, breaking out into a sprint as the Dreadlord's focused their attention on Owain.

"You seem to be a brave lad, but, too bad you'll die all the same." One of the twins said as he stepped forward, a flash running over his eyes. "It's going to be fun to watch the terror in your eyes as I cut your thro-"

As the man spoke, his steps lead him down the road and directly into one of the Guardsmen's traps. The loop of rope, concealed by leaves and dirt, suddenly snapped around his leg and sent him flying. The branch above bearing his weight, though barely. "WHAT THE SHIT!?"

His brother called as chaos broke out once again.
 
Yeah, okay, so Rhory had tried to stop him but Owain knew he was basically a savant for this kind of stuff. The plan was practically fool proof.

Then the pair of Dreads called him a turncoat and threatened to slit his beautiful neck just before the one making the threats found himself enraptured in the snare.

Off in the distance he saw Arn running from a horde of goblins. Such a shame, he actually was starting to like the farm boy but the guy was good as dead now. The best Rhory and Owain could hope for was to clean up these two Dreadlords and split before the goblins came back.

"We're not just going to kill you now runt, we're going to kill you slowly," the Dreadlord who hadn't fallen into the trap snarled at Owain. "You'll be letting him down, now."

"Of course I'll cut him down, we were going to make a deal rememb-," Owain said nonchalantly before immediately shutting his mouth and moving in what he thought was a seamless gesture as he pulled his crossbow out and fired at the Dreadlord who wasn't caught in the netting. It was honestly the coolest little maneuver he probably had ever pulled off, happening so fast that there was no way anyone could've reacted.

Only it turned out Owain wasn't as fast as he imagined. And Dreadlords had, apparently, spent their entire lives training. His target moved swiftly and instead of burying a crossbow bolt dead center in the man's chest it tore into his upper arm.

"FUCK," the one brother yelled as his eyes narrowed towards Owain.

Hanging in the little net trap they'd made the other brother screamed down, "we're going to tear your organs out while you're still alive like the human excrement you are."
 
Should she help Arn with those pesky goblins or stay and put down their target? If she left either of them alone, there was a chance they wouldn't make it.

Rhory took in a quick breath and stepped out from the brushes, drawing her sword and giving it a swing as she approached. "Oh, isn't that a cute sentiment." She heard that it took a lot to take down a Dreadlord. Their magic giving them undeniable strength to withstand even a loss of a limb. The wounded Dreadlord sized her up, and the one caught in the trap laughed seeing the female.

"He even has a girlfriend to fight for him!" At this, they both guffawed, but Rhory had grown up putting up with worse comments from her brothers. Undeterred, she swung for the Dreadlord, giving him no reprieve to counter her in any way.

"Knock out the other one!" She called to Owain, working the other Dreadlord towards one of her traps that would surely trip up and fall. It was all she could hope for, needing his concentration to waver just that one moment so she too could strike and knock the Dreadlord unconscious. "Then go help Arn!"

Rhory aimed her blade to knock the crossbow bolt in the Dreadlord's arm, causing the pain to start anew.
 
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Arn ran from the goblin hoard as fast as he could, but it turned out the stubby bastards were quicker than one expected. They ran after him like a tide, and two were faster than he was. The Farmboys long legs dashed out in a great leaping sprint, but it wasn't enough.

Two of the Greenskins went crashing into him.

With a loud thud Arn crashed against the ground, his body shaking as he shifted in the dirt and let out a grunt. His axe slipping as the little green bastards dug their dagger like nails into his shins. "Agh!"

Arn cried, ripping a dagger from his hip.

The blade flickered with surprising accuracy, a learned skill from hunting with his 'pa, and found purchase in the goblins throat. The thing let out a creaking cry, and then went limp against Arn's leg. It's brother let out a cry, but quickly met with the same fate as the Farmboy shifted his blade.

Within a second he was up and scrambling again, his left hand reaching out as he grasped the haft of his ax. Bloody dagger slipping back into his sheath as he glanced over his shoulder and continued to lead the goblin hoard away from Rho and Owain.
 
"Girlfriend?" Owain immediately stared knives at the Dreadlord who'd made such an accusation. As if he was about to settle down with just one girl!

He snapped out of his anger as he listened to Rhory's instruction, clearly seeing that she was trying to herd their one pal into one of the traps they'd set. "R-right, I'll make sure Arn is alright."

Without another word he approached the netted Dreadlord and whacked the butt of his crossbow against the warrior's temple. Then he smacked the guy again to ensure he was truly unconscious. "Just, uh, yell if you need something I guess."

With that he sprinted off in the direction of a scream, Arn's scream, and he picked up his pace. Rushing off in the distance towards the horde of goblins that were swarming around his fellow Guard. It was only as Owain got dangerously close to the mob that he spotted the two corpses of greenskins Arn had already slain.

And then, a new thought dawned on Owain. "Wait, what in the seventeen hells am I supposed to do about a horde of," he stopped talking as some of the goblins in the rear heard his outburst and turned to stare down at him.

"Hi Arn," he shouted as loud as he could, "don't worry! I'm here to help!"
 
"FUCK!"

The pain only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for Rhory to land a measure kick to his knees, sending him buckling before she used all her strength to bowl him over. The secondary trap triggered, causing the Dreadlord to fall into the hole at the roots of the tree. Some animal's home, she figured when rigging it, disguising it. He clung to a root, but his grip slipping fast.

Rhory snapped the nullifier around his throat, and as the locks clicked in place, he seethed. His other hand, the one linking to the crossbow bolt Owain managed to hit his arm, grabbed her and pulled her down with him.

She had no time to panic, to breathe, as it all left her as soon as she landed on her back. Small bones from the animal's home pricked at her hands once she began to stir, her armour making it difficult to move when it felt much heavier.

Hands were on her within seconds, pinning her back onto the damp dirt. Thumbs pressed against her throat, choking her from any breath she could have taken to recover. Panic, it came to her quicker than she thought.

"You little bitch! Weak fucks you guards are! They would train any one to fill their ranks!" He snapped at her, pressing hard enough that dots appeared in her vision. They were dark, but easy to tell in their already darkened surroundings.

Her sword was within reach, but she was unable to do anything with it.

So Rhory took the knife Everett sharpened before she had left for this transportation job. The Dreadlord too occupied with brute forcing her to unconsciousness or death to notice she reached for her boot, where sheated inside was the knife she now lodged into the side of his neck. It lifted the collar around the area, shoved beneath it, and slowly Rhory could feel the hands at her throat begin to slacken.
 
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"Owain!" Arn called as he saw his friends head over the horde of greenskins.

A few of them almost immediately turned their heads over their shoulders, peering back towards the newly come human. Some turned around, their filed down teeth gnashing together with a twisted sort of glee as they split their ranks.

"You're supposed to be helping Rho!" The Guardsmen called, shifting the blade in his hand as seven of the remaining greenskins began to walk towards him. Which was when, for the first time, Arn noticed the odd sort of blankness to their eyes. "Not-"

Before he could finish, one of the goblins jumped at him. Literally jumped.

With a cry the Farmboy dove out of the way, the goblin smashing its head into the that had been behind Arn with a loud thud. It's kin coming hot on it's heels just as clumsily. Practically throwing itself onto the Farmboy's blade. "Not here!"

Arn said as he kicked another of the greenskins.

Had it been this easy last time?

"I got this!" He shouted, continuing the now suspiciously easy battle. Never grasping onto the fact that the Goblins seemed to be much less of a problem without their Dreadlord Puppeteer around.
 
"Well," he called as sweat piled upon his forehead, "you know how she is, thinks she can do it all on her own." He managed a grin despite the dire circumstances and the seven goblins which...

Ran in odd formations. He fired a bolt and he could've sworn one of the creatures tried to step in front it to accommodate for his lousy aim. A second goblin practically centered itself upon the shortblade he drew.

All he could think was just how far he'd come. This morning he really struggled with Guardsmanly duties. It had been a challenge to fell even one or two of the little green men. Now? Well, now he was able to strike them down like butter on toast.

Maybe the recruiters had hyped up service as more challenging to prepare the folks less talented than Owain. That made perfect sense.

"At this rate we'll be done and heading back to help Rho in no time," he called out to the farmer while his sword impaled another goblin. "I'm only down to four and before long," he struck down another ghoulie that ran directly into the path of his swiping blade, "make it three! I didn't realize I was such a badass."

He barely had time to check on Arn's progress until things started to get... weird. Like the first time when everything seemed like it stopped...
 
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What a bloody day.

Already, she had been showered in goblin's blood, caked into her hair and over her face, but this blood was coppery as it spurted across her face.

The Dreadlord stared down at her, still alkve for the count, and horror registered in her mind. It would take much more to fell an Anirian mage.

Hand still on the hilt of her knife, Rhory withdrew it and struck again. The collar proved difficult several times, but she did not relent. Rhory cried out with each stab, adrenaline running at a high level as she continued to stab the male above her, well past the moment his hands slackened the most.

Realisation came to her slowly, that the Dreadlord was not moving now, and that his weight upon her seemed heavier. She dropped her knife beside her, straining to push him off to free herself. Her hands were stained woth his blood, sticky as it dried. She had started crying at some point, and if she hadn't been preoccupied, Rhory would be worried about Arn or Owain seeing her like this.
 
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Another goblin fell to a sweep of his ax, the blade cleaving through another of the creatures with one quick swipe. "I never had any doubts!"

The Farmboy called, not wanting to be unsupported to his friend.

He didn't exactly like that Owain had left Rho alone with two Dreadlords, but they were soldiers in their own right. If that had been the right choice to make then he had to trust that it was, they were just as experience as he was. Hell, Rhory was arguably more so given where she had grown up.

"This assignment wasn't half as bad as the Lieu-" As he spoke, he felt the sudden crawl of his veins again.

It was the breath he took. The way his lungs seemed to drag. How his muscles slowed. The effect of it came over him more like a tide than an instant smack to the face, and within it's slow rise, Arn managed to turn. On instinct, and nothing more, he shifted and hefted his ax.

He released the half-moon blade. Throwing it into the air and sending it tumbling end over end directly towards the Dreadlord who had stepped across the hill.
 
Holy shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

The Dreadlord they'd enraptured in a trap had somehow gotten loose. This was the worse case scenario, the end of all things, the spitting image of death staring back at Arn and Owain.

He saw his companion's axe bury itself in the soil near the approaching Dreadlord's feet. He saw the goblins slow, saw his own hands move at a reduced rate. All he managed to do was utter a quip, "you won't get," but even those three words took too much effort.

"I won't what?" Everything seemed to move at a crawl as the Dreadlord approached. Owain wasn't an expert on magic but none of this should've been possible. He felt the pores on his skin expand, felt the weight of his lungs in his chest, but no matter how hard his heart pounded he didn't seem capable of doing anything as their foe drew closer and closer.

A curved blade was drawn and the fiend cut a slit down Owain's arm. He felt his flesh open up slowly, felt the blood pour over drop by drop.

The warrior-mage grinned at him, "I'm going to watch you bleed to death, worm."

Holy fucking shit, Owain realized he was going to die to this criminal. Dreadlords really were the absolute worst.
 
She was free.

Her body ached, protested, but the guard got onto her knees, pushing herself to stand. Rhory had gone back for her knife, using it to lodge into the earth to help give her leverage to climb back up. It took many tries, testing her patience and limit, but she would not wish to be alone with the dead body any longer.

Rhory had no clue how she had gotten out, but she realised two things fast. One, she had left the nullifying collar down there on the corpse. Such a tool could still be used, and she stared down at it. She was catching her breath, throwing her head back and spying the trap that was first triggered... dangling with no catch attached to it.

"Fuck." It hurt to speak, as if the male had left imprints against her throat. "Fuck."

She slipped back into the animal's burrowed den, fingers going for the collar. How did those goblins get it free?

Desperation made her impatient, to the point she curled her fingers around it and shook it, as if it would come undone with her cries of frustration. As if her will itself commanded it so, it came undone. The runes faded, it's current host now expired, but Rhory did not dwell on the why before she was back to climbing out from the hole.

Dirt, roots, and blood coated her. She looked a mess, crazed, as she stood back on the earthen floor and peered around in all directions for where ever Arn and Owain had gone. Her eyes found tracks, another set coming from the rope trap. Rhory followed, knife being sheathed inside her sleeve as she moved in the direction of clear movement.
 
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OWAIN! Panic, anxiety, and abject terror bloomed inside of Arn like he'd never felt before.

The Dreadlord stood over his friend, his fellow Guardsmen, with a bloody intent that could not be mistaken. Arn fought with all his strength against the invisible chains grasping at him. Quickly finding his hands, legs, and even teeth so set in place that moving them might as well have been shifting a mountain.

Only his eyes shifted as he tried desperately to step even an inch, falling in horror upon the river of crimson pouring down Owain's arm.

He felt his heartbeat quick, his stomach turn. Everything was going to shit. He couldn't move. Owain was going to die. This fucking Dreadlord was going to get away with it. Arn wanted to scream, cry, but all he could manage was a quiet croak. "Wag-"

The Dreadlord's hand stilled as he heard Arn whimper, his head turning for a brief moment as he grinned.

"Oh don't worry lad, you'll be ne-" Before the man could finish his sentence, an arrow suddenly sprouted from his throat. A brief lash of blood flickered onto the ground, and his eyes opened wide as he raised a hand to his neck and suddenly found himself choking.

"Bloody good shot!" Another voice called out. "Well done, Lieutenant! You saved that poor Privates life!"

Arn's eyes flickered almost immediately to the familiar haughty sound of their Encampments Major. His great mustachioed lips quivering with a call of delight as he watched the Dreadlord tumble to the ground with a heavy thud. A swarm of Guardsmen moving over the same mound Owain had followed Arn over.

Quickly rushing to finish off the remaining Goblins and secure the Dreadlords corpse. "Ah! Another errant rapscallion captured!"

The Major declared, riding his Pristine white horse up to the two haggard Guardsmen.
 
One second Owain was resigned to death and then in the next there was a thin wooden stick poking out of his murderer's throat.

In the next instance he tumbled over, clutching at his arm and trying to press out the bleeding. His arm burned with intensity as he tried harder and harder to press into the open wound. It'd get mended up, he remembered when Coratz had a big wound and how just applying pressure worked. But none of that knowledge really helped him relax.

"I hate Dreadlords."

His eyes gazed up at Arn. "You owe me one, farmboy," he let a grin peek through his features, "I can't believe we felled a Dreadlord."

The major glanced down at the blonde-haired boy, "we?"

"Oh, well," he continued clutching at his arm until terror shook his features and he jolted upwards, "sir, to the south, Private Grimmere was dealing with a Dreadlord of her own!"

"Rally the hunting party, we've got another one to resc-," his words were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the missing Guardswoman.
 
A few guardsmen approached Rhory, stopping her in her tracks and taking away her knife before looking her over for wounds. She was covered in a lot of blood, more than she had been leaving the scene of the goblin ambush.

"Is this your blood?" One asked her.

"Where is the fugitive?" Another questioned.

Rhory stared at them all, her large brown eyes looking drained.

"Dead... I think..." It hurt to speak, bruised throat pained as she coughed. "I killed him..." She was astonished, unsure if what she said truly had been the reality she had lived. Remembering what the body looked like, Rhory fell to the side and emptied her stomach. Shock was setting in, and one guard remained with her as the others began to go in the direction in which she had appeared from.

"Easy there, private." The guard winced, turning their head away and waving over Arn and Owain. "Take care of your friend. I'm going to go help retrieve the other..." Body? Prisoner? Did she really kill someone, a believed Dreadlord?
 
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"I definitely do." Arn told as he let out a weary sigh, his body still shaking from the adrenaline that was pouring through his veins. Heart thundering in his chest even as the Guardsmen who came in reinforcement swarmed all around the open field. Finishing off any remaining Goblins and securing the area.
His head at first shaking at Owain's small exchange with the Major, and then suddenly coming to a realization. As Rho's name slipped from Owain's tongue, panic flickered through Arn. She was back there by herself! They had to save her!

With almost comical speed the giant whirled around, moving far faster than a man of his size had any right, but stopping as soon as he started when he saw Rhory cross over the cusp of the hill.

Relief flooded through him. "Oh thank fuck."

Arn said as he watched a few of the reinforcements quickly run towards the Guardswoman. One man ensuring she was alright while the other quickly followed the path she had come from. Arn grabbed Owain, practically yanking him along as he quickly moved towards where Rho had stopped.

"Can't believe you managed to kill the fuck." The Guardsmen said before patting Grimmere on the shoulder. "Good job Private."

He complemented, just as Rhory's friends arrived at her side.

Arn, though more than a little injured, smiled wide as he approached her. Eyes flickering with concern over Rhory as he sidled up to her and gently lay a hand on her shoulder. "Hell of a day, huh?"

The Farmboy said as he sat himself down, digging into his belt pouches in search for bandages to tend Rhory's wounds.
 
Wow. Rho had actually killed the bastard. Thank kress, two less Dreadlords in this world were nothing but a good thing if you asked him.

"I think I need about twelve pints of that pisswater at the local pub," his head shook violently in disapproval. The drinks and cuisine this far from the center of Anirian life barely passed as edible. "Or maybe I just need to sleep for around three days straight."

A sly grin crept into his face as he was content that the medics would take care of both Rhory and himself just fine. "Perhaps we can do both, get terribly drunk tonight and then sleep for a few days."

He caught the glimpse of the major who'd come to their rescue only for the superior officer to shake his head in disapproval.

"Worth a try. At least we have a fun story to tell."
 
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