Weryne's fate

The flames danced and flickered as the campfire blazed.
Pow – an exploding log sent glowing embers swirling into the night sky, dulling the stars briefly in their wake.
The old mage hunter started to wakefulness, his empty cup dropping soundlessly to the grass as it slipped from his grasp. He'd dozed off leaning against the comfortable log.
It was a cold night, but the wine and fire kept the cold at bay, along with the fur around his shoulders and the thick breeches and boots he wore of course. He sat up straight, gave the fire a stir and then throwing another couple of logs on to see the night out, made up his bedding by it and curled up.
The camp was quiet, guards were shivering on post. Weryne was quick to fall asleep, content in his efforts to be present at this battle with the hopes of rescuing his friend and comrade, Kindred the Bane, held captive these long months by the Hadovean bastards.
Weryne had long been a reliable follower of orders, well disciplined and undyingly loyal to his Kingdom overlords. Until now – Weryne had defied orders and called in all manner of debts to be here this cold evening, warming his bones with vinegary wine, hot stew, and this fire. This close to enemy lines fires would normally be banned but they were aware the prisoner escort knew they were here. Tomorrow would be an interesting battle. Weryne briefly contemplated this as he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.’ The morning was bitterly cold, but a clear and bright day. Breakfast was a hot concoction served communally around several campfires. Weryne assessed it to be a form of savory gruel, it was tasty, filling and warming, he approved. Even more so upon receipt of his second serving. Plenty of the troop were grumbling, as was always their want to do. None complained about the hot coffee following up the meal.
They swiftly broke camp after this, a well-practiced set of moves, despite the grumbling, disunity seemingly on the surface, they were a well-disciplined force. Weryne blended in, they were after all his allies if not his people. He pondered how many from the Leap would be present today. He smiled to himself imagining the lectures and, at worst, the flogging he may receive upon return to his assigned duties. Worth it he almost laughed. Before long it was time to move out. They had tracked the prisoner escort for two days now, always gaining a little. Today would be a forced march, because they grew closer now to Tenar and it would prove a difficult task indeed freeing prisoners from there, albeit their main objective. It was early afternoon when they drew within striking range of the force transporting the Bane to Tenar. It was unclear what fate awaited him there.
Weryne joined the fray with the rest as soon as they encountered the enemy force. The Hadoveans were well drilled, well equipped and prepared for the assault. Despite gaining access to Kindred at one point whilst on the road, they could not free him from his chains before being driven back.
Weryne had given it his best attempt but could not open the locks keeping his friend chained before enemy forces overwhelmed the small group, he was with who had broken through. Battered and bloodied, they beat a retreat to their lines.
The Kingdom army pressed and harried the Hadoveans all the way to the gates of Tenar, breaching the very gates eventually.
Weryne leapt to the dry riverbed off the side of the road before the bridge into town. In the dimming afternoon light, he used the shadows to hide as best he could whilst scouting the outer walls of Tenar, he had what he hoped would be reliable information that there was a sally port hidden away to the northern side of the building. Sure, enough though, after a brief search he found a way in and without hesitation, Weryne made his way through the sally port and into the township of Tenar.
The streets were deserted, at least in the immediate vicinity, he could hear the sounds of battle off in the distance he moved stealthily in that general direction, all the while keeping one eye out for enemies and the other for anything that resembled holding cells. He was well and truly aware that there were more prisoners in this town that his friend. He hid in shadows as a small contingent of town guards marched at the double down a nearby street towards the front gates.
He pictured the town layout in his mind’s eye, hoping the maps and other intelligence he was aware of were accurate. He considered where he was, roughly speaking, and moved up a quiet alley towards what he guessed would be cells.

Kindred fidgeted in his chains. He was locked in a tiny cell and still in chains, albeit, the lock was now weak, and Kindred guessed he could break out of the chains at a pinch. He surveyed his prison, the door was secure, however, he noted rot in the outer walls, he gauged them breakable once he had removed his chains. The battle outside grew louder.

Weryne rounded a corner in haste and encountered three town guards, surprise worked to his advantage, and he dispatched two of them without so much as a murmur, the third however, proved a bit faster and, unfortunately louder. He raised the alarm before Weryne clubbed him to the ground with his shield. The old mage hunter cursed under his breath; things just got a little bit trickier he estimated.
Suddenly he was at the prison block, however, the alarm had been effective, he could see the front gates, open now, but his allies were held on the other side of the enemy line and a small group broke away towards him. The paladin leading them sneering at him to surrender and he could flee with his life and his tail between his legs. Weryne struck out at the man, driving him back, however, it was quickly reversed and Weryne found himself withdrawing and very much fighting for his life.

Kindred responded to the alarms and sound of battle moving towards him. Using all of his might he tugged at the damaged lock securing his chains, it gave away on the second jolt. The chains fell away, Kindred caught his breath, he then drew back and literally punched a hole in the outer wall of his cell. He made short work of creating a Kindred sized hole in is now former cell. Stumbling slightly through the new made gap, he fell upon two guards, Kindred beat them both down with naught more than his fists. Seeing his friend in the street he began to sprint towards the fight.


Weryne, surrounded now, fought furiously, he heard the chanting of an enemy healer nearby and immediately silenced them, he was struck across the shoulders with a blade during this almost felling him. Weryne felt the satisfying bight of his sword slicing into and enemy soldier and then a dull, yet painful thump into his chest. He looked down at the enemy paladin’s blade sunk into his chest, his breath catching as he watched it withdrawn almost in slow motion.
He felt no pain, a surreal sensation came over him as he saw his life’s blood squirt from the wound in his chest, then darkness took him.


Kindred seeing his friend struck down, bellowed enraged and leapt towards the enemy…