Stone Eagle Rebellion

Vela frowned and crouched lower at the sound of arrows being fired. "Hello, Nyx. An odd question you should ask Marcos, however, I am not wounded and faring fine. I am concerned for our plan of escape. I too, do not wish to extinguish lives. I will take out the archers to my right." Vela scoped out the over hand and helmeted heads peeping over the top. "I spot seven on my side. We should strike simultaneously, what say you?"
 
"How is it odd to ask in a war if you aren't wounded?" he grinned, turning to look at the other archers on the other side, "So illogical," he shook his head, "Nine on the right." He frowned, a small, confused frown. "I think we should use the motion of surprise. If one can distract, the others could stab from behind. Not enough to kill them, I still have my morals, but enough to get sweet revenge."
 
"Death is a necessary evil, Marcos. Our allies on the other side of those guards are getting ready to push forward to free us. Until then, we need to protect those of us on this side of the wall." He pauses, assessing the situation around them "and you probably feel safer around me because I have somewhat of a plan." he says raising the sword. When the brutish guard fondles the young woman who they were trying to save, his eyes turn an icy blue color. "That is no way to treat a lady" He shouts at the guard, lobbing the blade at him. The blade sinks into his head with a sickening sound until only the hilt is visible at the entry point.
 
This was bad, very bad, but then maybe they could salvage it. An idea suddenly came to the courtesan's mind. It was delightfully simple. She was about to comment when her new bodyguard's hand went beneath her brassier. That was taking the ruse a bit too far. She didn't understand why she was shocked. He was a guardsman at a prison. They usually weren't the most gallant of warriors.

"All right Jaren," she whispered, "here's the plan. We're going to-"

The plan fell apart immediately when a dagger lodged itself into Jaren's head with a sickening crunch. At first she didn't know what had happened but a glance over her shoulder revealed what had happened. Assallya's jaw dropped open, her black painted lips gone slack in a wide "O' of alarm as Jaren fell in a gangling pool of limbs around her feet.

So much for that plan.

Then she spied from whence the cast blade had sprung forth. At least Nyx was alive. She was certain he was done for when she had left him behind.

"Really?" Assallya complained as the guards she'd been trying to trick her way past advanced, "You killed my ensorceled minion?"
 
"I have never been the direct cause of death, and I don't want to start now. I've wounded, yes, but not killed. I want to be the good guy here." He thought for a while. If he grew, he'd be able to step over it? Then he remembered that he couldn't.
 
Nyx rushes forward to grab Assallya by the wrist and pull her back "did you think there wouldnt be guards there?" A war horn sounds in the distance and a chunk of the rebel army charges the gates from the outside to clear a path.
 
Marcos points towards the car, "Clearly she didn't. But surrender has affected my trust. I hope I don't lose it nor fall into the loyalty trap." He picks up the pace. He couldn't wait much longer. He missed the true Marcos, the sunshine, the outside world. Prison was a few hours, but that was his eternity.
 
Panicked screams sound from atop the walls of the prison courtyard as Flint panickly ran down them, setting archers on fire with a flamethrower-like spell. Once the archmage reached the gates he jumped off the wall and ran to the side of his comrades. "Sorry I'm late, thought we could use some help so I freed a friend of mine."
 
"It's cool!" Marcos began running around like a madman before lengthing his hair so nobody saw his eyes, fully at least.
 
The elven girl's blue eyes locked on the fist that had clamped itself around her wrist even as she was pulled close against Nyx's form. She put her hand against his chest, placed one bare foot on Jaren's dead body and pressed herself into Nyx as she brushed her lips against his cheek.

"I did have a plan," Assallya replied, whispering the information into his ear before suddenly increasing her volume to a near shout, "UNTIL YOU KILLED MY MINION!"

Having gotten that out of her system she turned and turned her attention to the suicidal rebels that had burst through the line of guards. She felt sorry for them. Not enough to do anything about it. Most of the rebels inside the walls had already fallen and they'd done poorly against trained soldiers with superior weaponry and armour. They'd fared better than she suspected, but not well.

Marcos, the shapeshifter, boggled her. That he preferred not to kill when he had such a knack for it. She could use magic to disguise herself but he could do so naturally. That was a unique and powerful ability that he wasn't using to his fullest. Why he didn't disguise himself as a guard she couldn't imagine.

That was when Flint came running along the wall and leaped down to them.

"Sharess' tits," Assallya murmured, seeing Flint leap from curtain wall, as tall as four men, a staggering thirty feet high, and land relatively unscathed. If she'd fallen that distance she would have surely died.
 
The guards at the gate fall down quickly as rebels with crossbows pierce through their armor. "No need to yell." He says simply at Assallya. He runs out of the gate with his comrades and jumps into one of the wagons waiting.
 
Assallya snickered. This Nyx had little clue. Like many magicians it was as if he hadn't had the opportunity to develop social skills. It was all that time spent nosing through books.

Assallya, on the other hand, had spent most of her education on social skills with only the barest minimum of magical tutelage. She couldn't call down bolts of lightning or hurl balls of flame. Her magics were mostly enchantments, almost an extension of her natural abilities.

Running swiftly behind Nyx, she quickly ate the distance and flung herself into the bed of the wagon, first slapping one foot upon the wheel's axle and then grabbing the wagon's small wall to hoist herself over and into the hay inside.

There she lay, breathing heavily, letting the stress and the terror of being imprisoned, hunted and shot at slowly fade away.
 
Marcos realised the wagons after having the brief childish moment and sat down in the wagon, after dashing after it. He didn't want to have to change too much, because it would be annoying to his peers. He watched Nyx carefully, "Those were impressive spells," he finally says after staring through his hair at the eyes of his fellow rebel. Marcos was slightly jealous. He wanted to do that kind of thing. Magic. He had always wanted to do it. He was surprised nobody else did whaf he did, being able to change their appearance by mind, yet they could make buildings collapse. His power had come from the moment he first thought, back in his social education at a school for the gifted. It hadn't lasted long. They didn't think he was very gifted.

He turned to Assallya, "You are annoyed Nyx stop him from hurting you? Why?" He didn't get it, partially because he wasn't paying attention.
 
Feeling like she could sleep for a week, Assallya resisted the urge now that they were laid out on a bed of straw. First some sleep and then a glorious bath and some fine food. Anything would be better than that gruel she'd been fed. The rebels hadn't been incarcerated long enough to appreciate such things.

"There was no hurting," Assallya explained, "I instructed him to take me prisoner. When I saw the battle in the courtyard I realized I needed a protector. The first guard that tried to gut me I ensorceled and made my slave. Jaren, his name, was fighting along beside us the entire way. Jaren was going to get me past the guards without a fight."

By all the nine hells, she'd have let him do far worse to her if it would have gotten her out of there. That prison was miserable and overcrowded. She didn't like to dwell on that. Then there was the fact she was to be hanged the next day. She'd have done just about anything to avoid even if that meant betraying everyone else in the wagon. Oh sure, she would feel bad about it, these were good people, but those were the breaks.
 
Flint ran to the wagon and hopped on, panting deeply. It seemed that he had been running quite a bit lately. "There's something I must tell you, but I need five gold, like now."

It was about this time that several guards came scrambling out the prison. They were not attacking, most had abandoned their weapons to quicken their speed. The warden himself, who had gone inside to put some prisoners back was one of them, his face nothing but pure terror screaming, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!"
 
Sitting up in the cart, and peering about in confusion Assallya wondered what was wrong. Whatever it was, if the guards were running it had to be more than just the rebels acting up. Already conjuring up grotesque images of monsters, former prisoners, transformed by the King's mages into mindless killing machines, Assallya felt herself tense up. She was expecting the worst. Worse still, what if it were another of those metal monstrosities? Then again, they hadn't killed the first one. Maybe it had dug itself out by now?

"We just escaped prison," the blonde girl replied, "They don't let you keep money-"

Pausing suddenly, Assallya realized this could be one of tose life and death situations. She did have some wealth on her. It wasn't coins and she'd planned on using the treasure to get back on her feet after the escape.

"Will a ring do?" she asked, "I turned my rings and toerings invisible in case I needed to bribe a guard."
 
"I have 4 gold," Marcos announced, pulling it out his pocket like a rabbit is pulled out of a magician's hat. He strugged, before turning to the guards, "That's a little bit...strange." He narrowed his eyebrows and lowered his hands, "I don't get why you need it though." He was doubtful, as if Flint was going to rob him.
 
"That will do. It's just that he'll kill me if I don't have the money." Flint said as if it was perfectly normal.

Three guards that were unaware about what had happened inside that made their comrades flee ran towards the prison entrance. A shackle flew out of the open door and rapped around there necks, popping their heads off. A Man stepped out of that doorway. He had a odd two-way cape and carried a massive hammer that was stained with blood on both sides. At the sight of him the rest of the guards fled, screaming bloody murder. image.jpg
"That's the guy." Flint stated, pointing at the Man that was now walking towards them.
 
"What is that? Who is that? Won't he kill the rest of us? You're betraying us?" Marcos felt hurt and panicked at the sight. Why would his friend do that, he thought, and laughed.
 
(Sorry I got grounded for a week but I'm caught up now)
Ash ran to the carts and sat down when she looked at what had happened after Flint got the money. Her tail flickeredand she looked at Marcos "He's not betraying us. I feel he wouldn't do that after the trouble he went through to save us." She stated calmly, as if people weren't just killed infront of her.
 
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