Fable - Ask The Unblessed Road

[Mikko Cendrillon]

Mikko woke to the wagon bumping erratically, disturbing him from his sleep. He came to realise it was not a slumber he was stirred from, but whatever the mage had done on him. Slowly, his body came to respond to his brain, and testing his movement, he began to sit up and see the chains at his wrists... and one at his neck. Irons then, not grogginess.

Before anything else could happen to him, Mik took quick assessment of his surroundings. There was in fact not much to see, but he could smell the coast. How could one not know the salty scent when living in Valenntenia?

"He's awake. Want me to deal with him?"

"Not unless he wishes to make a scene again."

---

The Vanguard were left tied up, bundled together to keep upright. There were some bandits still around, tasked with alerting the scouts ahead to send the message forth that Valenntenia had arrived, but the first call had been stolen by the silencing done by the Guardian of Darkness.

Only five men remained, no magic to their veins, but swords and a need to fight.

If someone were to check the Vanguards, they would notice how still they were, some bloodied and beaten, but only one was responsive.

He would croak: "To the coast... they took him to the coast..."



Villam Regis Mordred Mabbon Dreierg Malik

 

[Villam Regis]

In a single file line through a dank, dark cave, there were few better suited to lead than Mabbon. He was one with the Darkness, tuned to it in a manner only its Guardian could be. Regis stayed close behind, and his comrade led him through the narrow, uneven tunnel of the cave as though he'd traveled it a dozen times prior. The distant voices echoing off the walls of the tunnel made a fine beacon for them to follow

He almost felt bad for the bandit lookout stationed separately from the rest of his group: There was no way the poor bastard could have seen Mabbon coming, and even if he had, there would have been no way of stopping him.

Once he was done away with, an eerie silence fell over the group, one that had previously been broken by the distant sounds of their target. Mordred piped up from the rear, and it only confirmed what both Villam and Mabbon had both begun to suspect. Dropping the formality of stealth, Regis nodded and beckoned Mabbon to push forward. "Come on, before they get away!"

It didn't take much longer for the four of them to reach the large cavern chamber where they were keeping their captives, Vanguard still bound and bleeding, guarded by a handful of bandits, no more than five.

Something in the back of Villam's head called out to him, pointing out the obvious fact that five ordinary bandits were far from capable of doing as much damage as they had to Vangaurds, but it was muddled by the anger that called for the blood of those who'd harmed his comrades.

Gritting his teeth, Regis pushed away from Mabbon, drawing his throwing knives and sending one sailing towards the face of the nearest unaware rogue, landing flush with his neck as the other four snapped to attention with rage burning in their eyes.

"Shit! They're here!"

Mabbon Dreierg Mordred Malik Mikko Cendrillon

 

[Mordred]

Mordred closed his eyes as the scent of blood filled the cavern. The stone that he wore about his neck on an iron chain pulsed against his skin with feverish delight. In a sweet whisper it urged him to join in, showed him in his minds eye how he could render all of them dead with a single thought if he only asked..

Casting the voice to the back of his mind with great effort, Mor instead made a dash for the bound soldiers and left the others to deal with the fighting.

"Easy now," he said, tugging the satchel from his shoulder. "You'll do yourself more harm than anyone good in that state," the vanguard who had spoken seemed the worst for wear so Mordred focused his attention on him first. Running his hands at a hover over the mans body with careful drawing on the blood rune, he guided the broken vessels back into place and curbed the internal bleeding.

"Y-you need to go," the soldier rasped. "They... took him. Witch..." He broke off into a wet cough.

 

[Mabbon Dreierg]

Mabbon broke left as Villam went right. His shadow, larger than it had any right to be, ran ahead of him, throwing off the aim of one of the bandits. Torchlight reflected dimly from the half-orc's weapons and armour, as if unwilling to touch the Guardian of Darkness.

The bandit closest to Mabbon barked out a defiant curse, discarding his spent crossbow and going for his sword. Too late.

Breezing past him, the Guardian twisted with his blade, guiding it through and out. Blood splattered his face and hand as he ducked, weaving in close to a second bandit that had left himself wide open. 'Wait!' The man tried to yell, his eyes showing fear and nothing else.

Running him through, Mabbon freed his knife with a twist. The bandit tottered a moment, before slumping backwards to land at the feet of the last.

'Throw down your weapon!' Mabbon growled, arm extended. The man did as bid, sinking to his knees. 'Mercy!' He begged. 'Please! I-I have a family!' Despicable, the half-orc thought, kicking him backwards. His eyes flashed to where Mordred was tending to the prisoners. Too few.

'Where're the rest of them?'

'Lord-'

'WHERE?!' The bandit shrank under Mabbon's cold gaze. 'Th-the coast, Lord! She took him to the coast!' Shaking, he pointed towards a cleft in the rock, hidden, if not for the thin hint of sunlight beyond. Grabbing the man by the scruff, Mabbon pulled him up, gave him a shove. 'Lead us to them. Now.'

Malik Mikko Cendrillon Mordred Villam Regis