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Apollo Cormac

"If it were good or evil for which I fought, I can assure you that most of my hardship would have been for naught."

0 · 170 views · located in Ur'Idon

a character in “The Chosen Few: The Broken Order”, as played by Ansreth Maern

Description

Apollo Cormac

Image

Name: Apollo Cormac
Race: Human
Rank: Corporal
Birthdate/Age: Born on March 20th, 905 4E. He is 22 years old.
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral, "Undecided"


Appearance: Raised in a very minimalist lifestyle, Cormac has learned to never dress himself with more than what is necessary. Therefore, his clothes are all monotone, his face is clean shaven, his head is shaved nearly bald, he wears only what furs and armor he needs to keep himself warm and protected, and he bears one sword on his back (his main weapon) and only a dagger in his back pocket for emergencies.

Body-wise, he is quite tall, almost 6 feet at his 5'11'' height, but some of that can also be attributed to his boots. His brow is often furrowed. And his face that is calm and plain: he never shows more emotion than he needs to in order to get a point across (which is usually little to no emotion). On his back he bears the mark of his brotherhood--a sundial design mimicking the sun's shadow at 12 o'clock. His eyes are hazel: a color of change as it was developed over the course of his preadolescence when his eyes changed from his childhood blue eyes to his adult hazel eyes.

Personality: Never one for emotion, Apollo Cormac is most commonly described as a stoic. He is stern, minimal with words and emotion, somewhat cold and distant, and refuses to take sides when it comes to the battle between moral extremes. He is reserved and observant, always looking on rather than acting upon. Though he leans more towards the good side (in being a part of the Order) and wants desperately to bring happiness and clarity to society, he does not believe choosing an extreme is what brings order amongst a people. Instead, he believes it is in eliminating excess that brings order and prosperity amongst people. He does not believe in unnecessary killing, unnecessary wealth, and giving more power to leaders than what is needed to keep the masses from killing each other. Otherwise, Cormac doesn't find himself aligned with either side of the "Good vs. Evil" battle. He has one goal, to eliminate waste and excess and to serve the Order and the Divine Trinity. Everything is cut and dry with Cormac-either it is necessary or it is not. If it's not necessary, it should be eliminated, he believes.

Skills/Abilities: Cormac is a skilled swordsman, though he is also proficient with any other melee weapon. He can conjure up small magicks as to track and locate certain targets or to create small sparks of fire in order to light up firewood. He is very well versed in historical literature and very knowledgeable in combat tactics, though, as a relative newcomer, he keeps most of this knowledge to himself. He was trained to fight with his fists as well as his sword, though his swords skills clearly outweigh his fist-fighting skills.




History: Born in the Church's Monastery of the Lower Delphian Plains. His mother, Letia, and his father, Jovas, gave their son to the Monastery so that he may be raised as a monk and not in the poverty and famine brought upon the Plains as a result of the Morrígan Scourge (a plague spread amongst crows that initially caused insatiable hunger in the birds which resulted in the vicious attacks on farmlands and people of the Delphian Plains. It is important to note that, 5 years from Cormac's birth and adoption, a crow attack on his family's farm resulted in the death of both his parents and nearly half of his brothers and sisters).

Cormac grew up in the Monastery learning to want little and keep only what he needed. This way of being raised was what eventually led Cormac to see the impurity and putridness of excessiveness and unnecessary things. While it did not make him go out on a blind quest to kill all that he deemed unnecessary, it did make him cringe to see things that were more than what was needed to allow the world and society to function. Despite his reserve when it came to acting upon this belief, it was a very thin line Cormac walked between minimalist philosophy and full-blown psychopathy. But it was his belief in the wastefulness of killing that led him to value the protection of life (human and all other kinds of life) and made him a model monk and a good candidate for the Order of the Watchers.

While in the Monastery, before he joined the Order, Cormac was taught the ancient martial art of the Delphian Tribe (one that models the movement of astrological phenomena and builds its philosophy off the belief of the divinity of the celestial and the pureness of the circle); he was given instruction in rudimentary magicks; he became learned in history and theology; and he was trained so that he would be able to fulfill the physically demanding labor that the Monastery required of him, and later what the Order would require of him.

At the age of 16 he was recruited by a scout from the Order and taken to the kingdom of Calaris to be further trained. It is there in Calaris that he was taught to handle weapons (most of all, the sword) and where he picked up tactical skills from observing the Order's campaigns and comparing it with what he knew of the tactics in battles in history. At 20, after 4 years of training, he was finally promoted to Corporal and given assignments more heavily based throughout the kingdom rather than just in their military barracks. It was wIthin the next 2 years that Cormac gained experience as a civilian protector in the Order and eventually found his way to the group of Watchers with whom he would get to know in the last hours before their demise.

So begins...

Apollo Cormac's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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Merriwyn shook her head in disgust at the injuries to her ally and the squalid conditions she was forced to reside in. "These men are barbarians. Attacking the unsuspecting and then locking them up in such conditions, and with the men and women of the Gods, they will most certainly be for an ill fate when the Reaper and the Seeker comes for them." She seemed to almost rant to Mera, mixing the gods of her people and the humans. "I wonder how the Church will take this betrayal, regardless of our breaking off, we are still people of the faith." Merriwyn rubbed her hands, the friction warming them up as she uttered a few elvish incantations. "Tanka tel' taurnin. Poika tuulo' 'kshapsae" A spell of healing for sealing the wound and a spell of cure for any corruption which may have begun to set, without the proper conditions for a proper healing ritual, Merriwyn would have to make do with sealing the wounds and clearing any infection. She repeated the incantations at least three more times just to be sure.

Merriwyn recalled Mera's comments on Alcuin hushing Merriwyn and she merely nodded, "We have all lost a great deal, some more than others," She agreed, she had heard rumours of expulsion from his home kingdom. "It was my honour to heal you, no need to thank me. No need to call the guard back either, I think I'll stay until he passes back." Merriwyn listened to the conversation and decided to put her own input. "I did witness a few of the sisters and brothers fleeing, but how far they got I am not aware. Yet I do not doubt the Betrayer sent more after them." Merriwyn admitted, a sadness to her voice, her head shaking slightly in shame. "I'm sorry I did not do more. Yet I can do some good now, how many of you are injured?"

She had to make sure Mera was fine after being healed with elvish magic and after sitting with her for a few more minutes, she would attempt to heal anyone else injured, hopefully the now fearful guard would return and be willing to let her help anyone else injured.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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#, as written by RCJJ23
When Allen heard the voice, which he could vaguely recognize as the one of Lieutenant-Commander Turya since he had served with him in the past though he doubted that he would remember him, he delivered a prayer although he was by no means devout. He delivered a prayer to the Judge to cast his divine justice on those who betrayed the Order and a prayer to the Ruthgards' patron god, Nargul, to give him the strength to fight when the time came, if it ever came. They hadn't bound him so he would give them a good fight if they came to cart him away. Then remembering the squire calling out her name he decided to say his as well.

"I am Brother-Sergeant Allen Ruthgard; of Garnum." He added his place of birth as an afterthought, as he was unsure if any of the other prisoners in the cells or even one of the guards were from around there and knew of the Ruthgards.

Allen sat there for a few more moments before slowly getting to his feet. He had to bend his head down to avoid knocking it on the ceiling of the small cell. From there he explored it a little. All there was was the straw mattress, a small wooden bucket and rats. Nothing too special about this prison cell. The aches still permeated through the block his mind was setting up, but it was getting further away and it was sharpening his pain dulled senses. He went back over and sat on his mattress and waited.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell
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Merriwyn barely nodded her head in appreciation for Tevran's thanks, but her body could barely handle breathing let alone moving any part of her body. She has used her magic to treat serious wounds before but they have only ever been one person per hour, otherwise she'd seriously tire herself out as she just had, 2 people needing greater magic in the space of 20 minutes, she had exhausted herself and now was not the time for doing so.

Merriwyn felt the ground shake beneath her as she lay there, a feeling of dread washing over her as she lay on the hay. However, when she heard some sort of struggle and soon after the jingle of heavy keys, she looked at the doorway just as Mera appeared in it and unlocked the door for Tevran and Merriwyn.

Tevran knelt before Merriwyn and offered help to her, she looked up to him with a weak smile. "There is no debt between us, you need not worry about me." Merriwyn took a heavy breath and prepared to lift herself up. "Free the others, I will manage." She told him after finally rising, although she lent heavily against the wall.

Merriwyn slowly made her way down the corridor, each step heavier than the last, she eventually climbed the steps and met with Mera.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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Tevran acknowledged her refusal of help with a smile and remarked "May the Warden watch over you." And then turned towards the hallway, keys gripped in his hand. He walked out, and rushed from cell to cell unlocking them. Not only were the other Watchers released, but various other minor nobles and others who had displeased lord Ulfric. For the most part they were fairly ragged but if they were armed then mayhaps they could flank the guards and escape by seizing one of the gates.

"Alright all of you! This way! We need to find an armory of some kind to arm ourselves! The Divine are on our side! We shall not fail! The betrayer will fall, and burn in Oblivion forever! Our cause is righteous! Now forwards!" His voice boomed out in a way that made the former prisoners jump, and then start moving forward. Following them, Tevran strode forward confidently, gazing about for a sword he could use. For as the last of the order, they can't afford any more losses.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac
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Through a small crack in the wall Apollo had a narrow view of the world outside. He could only see what the small crack allowed him to see. He was oblivious to everything and anything else. He spent the majority of his imprisonment, thus far, peering out the small crack in the wall. While his brethren and sistren slowly stirred--waking up from their forced slumber and beginning to gauge what situation they had been put in--Apollo continued staring out the small chink in the wall. He hadn’t been knocked out, nor very injured, because when he knew the situation at Halwall Castle had turned against the Order’s favor, he also knew that it would be unnecessary, and possibly fatal, to resist. Though he scrupled to surrender while his fellow Watchers were being slaughtered left and right, in the end he knew it was best to save the fight for another day. And now here he was, though confined within the tiny walls of a dungeon cell, safe and uninjured. In other words, he was alive, while many others who chose to resist Ulfric’s army were dead. And that, too him, was rationalization enough for the choice he made.

While Apollo was contemplating, much was going on outside of his cell and between the other Watchers who had survived, not through cowardice, but through perseverance or sheer luck. But after a large boom sounded outside the prison, the shot came crashing into the castle walls, and Apollo’s time for contemplation came to an end. A few moments later, amidst the chaos, he heard someone’s voice call out, "Alright all of you! This way! We need to find an armory of some kind to arm ourselves! The Divine are on our side! We shall not fail! The betrayer will fall, and burn in Oblivion forever! Our cause is righteous! Now forwards!" A fellow Watcher, one whose name he did not know, came and unlocked his cell as well as other cells inside the dungeon. Knowing that this opportunity to escape was no less a gift from the Divine, Apollo wasted no more seconds sitting against the wall which he had been looking through before. He briskly grabbed whatever belongings he had in the cell, if the guards hadn’t already taken them away, and sprinted into the dark corridor. Within the fray of the exodus of prisoners making their way outside the prison, Apollo could see some of the other Watchers leading the throng of people outside of the corridor. He quickly followed suit, not with the Watchers, but with the minor nobles and convicts, and made his way outside of the dungeon hall. There was sufficient help back in the dungeon to get everyone safely out. It was his job, Apollo decided, to secure a weapon and try to neutralize any threats coming towards the prisoners and the other Watchers. This battle wasn’t doomed like the other one was, so no more of his Order needed to die. Apollo continued running down the corridor, and caught up with some other Watchers making their way out as well. This time, Apollo decided, surrender was not necessary. But by no means would he hesitate to surrender if the situation later called for him do so again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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Everything changed so suddenly...


It was safe to say that Catherine was inexperienced. She was but a Squire, one who's first taste of combat consisted of being trampled by her own friends and then captured by the enemy. She could not read, she could write letters...some words...not sentences, and she had never seen or heard what those mighty creations of War were capable of, what siege weapons could do. Unprepared for what came, the only thing that kept Catherine standing was the bars of her cell that she held on to. Her heart begun to pound against her ribs, Catherine was afraid and she didn't know exactly what was going on. The Lady Sergeant, Catherine had forgotten her name, was out of her cell. The Guard must've slammed his head into the bars and got knocked out, then she just took the keys from him. She freed those near her and one of them, another Watcher no less, went cell to cell, freeing everyone who was in the dungeon.

"Alright all of you! This way! We need to find an armory of some kind to arm ourselves! The Divine are on our side! We shall not fail! The betrayer will fall, and burn in Oblivion forever! Our cause is righteous! Now forward!"


It was odd. All the others did not hesitate for long to leave their cells and go forth. However, Catherine hesitated...and hesitated. [i]What good am I to them? I can't read...I can't write...I've never fought before...I'm more useful to the Watchers in here...I'm sure the Lieutenant Commander would...wait..Ser Robert!".

Catherine remembered hearing the Lieutenant Commander's voice and how he sounded. He did not sound like the man she had heard of, the man whom the Squires, through a series of exaggerated and far fetched rumors spread amongst themselves, had learned to adore and admire and respect. The Squire was sure that if the Watchers were to survive they would need a leader...and he was it. If his voice was anything to go off of, he was not doing well and would need assistance. She could be that assistance, she could do that much. "Sir!", she called out. "Commander! Where are you?".

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Allen got up when the door was unlocked and walked past Tevran, muttering a thanks as he passed. He advanced past the prisoners and up the stairs past Mera when the door burst open. The guard there had his sword drawn, expecting trouble. What he didn't expect is trouble taking the form of a monstrous mountain of a man with the hand to hand skills to eliminate him as a threat.

It happened quickly, with Allen shoulder charging the man into the room behind the door. It was a small office, mostly for dealing with records and prisoners being put into the cells below, at least that was what Allen could see whilst he was carrying a grown man with only his shoulder. He thundered down the middle of the room, with the guard on his shoulder too shocked to do anything, before being slammed into the wall, the impact making him drop his sword. Then he was lifted up by Allen and slammed into a nearby desk. It was rotten, rickety old mess with it barely supporting the ledgers that were piled on top of it so it was no surprise that under the force of a man being slammed on to it that it gave way, not even breaking in half but shattering as the old wooden legs splintered and the top broke. The sound was negligible, especially in the cacophony of shouts and the sound of whatever siege engine's loads were slamming against the stone walls. So unless someone was right next to the door, the prisoners would remain undetected.

The guard however was still going, flailing his arms weakly at the towering shadow in front of him, though he couldn't reach and even if he could, his arms would have been broken. That was quickly rectified when Allen knocked him unconscious with a swift kick to the temple. He took the man's belt off and fixed it on himself before picking up the blade that had been on the floor and sheathed it, then he took a better look around the room. It was as it was before, albeit with a bit of redecoration in the form of a broken desk and an unconscious guard. He saw a sword rack, with only four more swords though it could hold more. Otherwise it was rather bare with two more similar desks and a bench. He picked up the swords in his arms and passed them on to any Watchers that wanted to take them before taking position beside the door leading out of the office and into Halwall Castle.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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Mera smiled as Merriwyn drew level with her. The elf seemed tired but enthusiastic to be free. They all were, if in different manners. "It do feel good to be out o' them cells, Mera said, leaning against the wall in a position of rest. She still had not recovered fully from the healing and other injuries plagued fer still. That did not mean she was not ready to strike, however.

Looking down the stairwell as Tevran began organizing the escapees, she was pleased by the chaotic order that had come out of it. No structure was visibly present in the group and not everyone knew each other, but the simple goal of escaping held them together in a bond. If not for the entire escape, at least for now.

A bang shot throughout the dungeon as the door behind Mera slammed open revealing a guard with sword drawn. Before she could react, Allen, who had drawn past her, barreled into the man, carrying both of them into the next room. The fight was over as quickly as it had begun, Allen swiftly rendering the guard unconscious. Following him through the door, Mera saw him gather up the swords and distribute them to the rest of the Watchers. Deciding she had a few moments to spare while everyone organized themselves in the office, Mera began rummaging through the desk. Most of the papers were simple orders on what to do with certain prisoners or transfers, but one or two letters seemed more important from the brief glance she spared everything. Picking up three letters, she secured them in the belt of her pants as she had no other place to store them in.

Moving over to the door leading outside of the office and into the rest of the complex, she eased the frame open and peeked outside. There was no one in the immediate vicinity but shouts could be heard in the distance. Rubble lay scattered throughout the corridor, some pieces small while others were fairly large, about the size of a man's chest. Whoever was attacking must have come prepared for such an undertaking for the castle to be attacked so quickly.

A rage seized her as she once again thought about the massacre that had occurred not too far from here. So many friends that she would never see again simply because one man saw them as a threat. Knuckles turned white from the pressure she was exerting on the sword hilt, hurting her hand due to the tightness of the grip. One man was responsible for this. Mera would not suffer him live.

Facing the rest of the group, she called out to the nearest Watchers, "I do be having some business to take care of. If you do escape, I shall find you. May the gods protect you." With that, Mera began loping off into the rest of the castle, searching for one man. Ulfric Ducant. Whoever survived this day, he would not be one of them for she was a herald of the Seeker. She was Death.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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Merriwyn stood in horror as the guard opened the door, Mera was her only protection and she was just as frozen in shock as Merriwyn, but within seconds a tower of a man ran through and tackled the guard and the pair went right through another door behind him. With a sigh of relief, Merriwyn made her way into the first room, scanning the surroundings for a chest, maybe the gaolers had stored their confiscated goods in here, but Merriwyn had no such luck and when they moved into the next room, her luck was just as low.

Merriwyn lent against a wall, her body still drained from using her magic too much. She bowed her head in thanks to her saviour, but just as she was about to rest a little more, Mera ran off on her own and Merriwyn tried to chase after her, to stop her from leaving. "Mera, no!" She cried out after her, reaching out as if to grab her but she fell to the floor, letting out a cry of pain as she hit the hard stone floor. She pulled herself up from the dirt, weakly steadying herself on the frame of the door. She took in a few heavy breaths as she watched Mera get smaller as she get further away.

As Merriwyn watched, she remembered the scroll she was sworn to protect. "Oh gods no." She exclaimed to herself, she had to get the scroll back, before it fell into the hands of someone who could wield the ancient magic contained in its letters. If it was still in the hold, it may be destroyed unless the ancient wards hadn't worn off, and if it was outside the hold, no doubt it was on its way to being translated and studied. She quickly went back to check the ledgers and see if there was any mention of the scroll, the gods favoured her and it seemed the scroll was being sent to being studied, ripping the page from the book, she put it in her sleeve pocket and waited on the others.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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Merriwyn watched as Tevran led the battle, she with a few other prisoners who were in no way capable of fighting, remained in the small office, after Mera had run, Alcuin cam up beside her and informed her of his intentions, Merriwyn didn't want anyone to separate from the party at all but at least Mera wouldn't be alone if Alcuin went after her.
"Of course, thank you, Alcuin." Merriwyn looked to the people she was in the office with, a mixture of nobles and beggars alike. Merriwyn was confused as to why noblemen and women were locked up with the beggars, but did not ask, she merely clung to the door frame and watched as Tevran led the charge.

With the courtyard cleared, Merriwyn informed the others and they made there way out into the courtyard, she grabbed a dagger from the body of one of Ulfric's men and turned to the others. "I suggest you grab a weapon too, we cannot have the others doing all the fighting and having to worry about us." She ordered them, the beggars eagerly picked up a weapon whilst the nobles seemed hesitant, but Merriwyn had no patience. "I will not have my brothers and sisters sacrifice our freedom because you could not weild a weapon yourself." Merriwyn had little patience for nobles and their snobbery at the moment.

Merriwyn caught up to the Lieutenant-Commander. "Lord Turya! Lady Mera has went after Ulfric and Alcuin has went after her." Merriwyn informed him, with a bow of her head to show respect to the Lieutenant-Commander. "May the gods guide them."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mera Atkinson Character Portrait: Robert Turya Character Portrait: Merriwyn Maharien Character Portrait: Tevran Shaetue Character Portrait: Catherine Lionhart Character Portrait: Apollo Cormac Character Portrait: Alcuin Grimfell Character Portrait: Allen Ruthgard
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The surge of men howling for vengeance swept into the courtyard, with the knight Tevran at the forefront. The guards, whose focus had been on the outside looking at the marching army only watched in shock at the prison riot. A few tried to move forward to engage the mostly weaponless prisoners, but Tevran casually swept aside their feeble attempts to fight with swift parries and brutal thrusts of his blade. Blood spattered all across the rough stones of the courtyard, and screams of agony began to fill the air to go with the grunts and wordless panting of men locked in mortal combat. And still the booming of the siege engines' constant bombardment continued, pounding against the old stones of the fortress. Tevran was locked in a brutal fight with the captain of the guard, a grizzled middle aged sergeant with close cut hair who made short economic chops with a hand axe while blocking Tevran's cuts and thrusts with a stout shield. "You should have given up and died with the rest of your treasonous comrades! It would have been quick at least!" The captain snarled out between gritted teeth.

Tevran growled out "It is not treason to rid the nation of your heresy" and then batted aside the axe and drove his blade through the captain's throat and into his skull. A look of shock struck the man's face as he fell over. Tevran flicked the blood away, and then looked around. About half of the escapees were dead, but the rest had picked up weapons and were fighting. Meanwhile, soldiers were pouring through a breach made by the siege weapons and cutting through the few guards standing.