The old hero walked into the room where his mother was said to be, soft sounds meeting his ears - but another sound, as he walked by the cell, rang out.
"I told you. Touch me again and I'll wring your neck," the voice trembled, and echoed across the damp, cave-like room. However, the Runemaster recognised the voice - one that sent him spinning around. Hesitantly, he took a step torwards the woman.
"Wait, I know you.. no, it's a trick. You aren't my son. The bastard's playing with my head," but despite her words she went to the bars of the cell. It was then the Runemaster noticed - she was thin, and looked so pitiful..
"But it.. it really is you, isn't it?" hope still rang in her voice, seeing him step torwards the bars as well. Runemaster was speechless.. all this time. He still remembered the day the bandits had come to Oakvale.
"What the hell were you thinking, coming here? Don't you see he'll take us both?" she wasn't angry at him - it was hard, but she was afraid. For her. For him. For them. Them.. a word she hadn't thought without hostility for years now. 'Them' used to be the damned Jack of Blades and his little friends.
"Never mind. We've got to get out of here. Get this damn cage open," she commanded. There was one way out, she knew, and it was a difficult way, too.
A hard path, it would be.. but it was the one way, she reminded herself. Prepare yourself, she thought, and waited for her son to open the cage.