I own nothing. Least of all a work ethic.
Chasing Through Hell
Feints and Flight
"Next right, coming towards us," Arianna said. There was a quality to her words and Maurus knew that if he looked at her, he would find her seemingly staring blankly into the air.
He nodded and raised a hand, taking care not to dislodge her from the crook of his other arm as he slowed his step and stopped. The low patter of feet and the quiet rattle of armor quickly ceased as the rest of the group came to a stop in the wide swathe of darkness between the sconces. Glancing around, specifically ignoring the low ceiling and the ever-present urge to simply run till he saw the sky, he repeated Arianna's words and added: "Warlocks, sneaks, you know the drill."
He felt a spark of satisfaction as the people around him reacted with none of the hesitation they had shown with the first couple of patrols. The warlocks stalked forward, their felhunters returning to their sides from where they had been placed at the edges of the group. They were followed by few more elves, every undead but Mathias, and the troll. Except for the whisper of steel blades along leather sheathes, they barely made a sound as they moved and in the sudden quiet, Maurus could hear his empty stomach complaining and his heart thudding in his chest. Despite the earlier successes, his grip tightened on his stolen axe as the group slipped around the corner and his hands again became a little clammy when he heard the elves speak their Eredun incantations.
He snuck forward and glanced around the corner, seeing the patrol just before his soldiers attacked. It consisted of two felhunters, two felguards, three of those ugly, squat creatures, which Arianna had called lost ones, and a single succubus. The two felhunters were banished before they could react. One lost one, a shadow priest, staggered forward, seemingly pulled by the greedy inhale of the elves' felhounds, onto the tip of a blade. The felguards and the other lost ones were simply overpowered as three times their number attacked at once. The succubus at the rear didn't have time to scream or flee either, because the troll dropped her with an expertly thrown axe.
It was over in a matter of moments. Maurus' heart was slower to react and only when the group had already returned and taken up their places around him did his pulse begin to calm again.
"Good," he said as he continued down the tunnel. It wasn't long before he slowed again, seeing the tunnel ahead open up on a room. It was more brightly lit than the tunnel and looked like a larger room than the cell Maurus had been in, with a correspondingly larger group of lost ones and demons, many of the latter being imps, who capered around like children.
Arianna straightened in his hold and slid easily down from her perch. Mirlia sidled up to her, exuding a sensuality that Maurus found off-putting precisely because he felt his body respond despite the inappropriate time.
"Come with me," Arianna said, addressing the three elf warlocks. The trio moved up to her, along with their felhounds, two of them looking somewhat nervous in the robes they'd taken from Arianna's former companions. Maurus couldn't blame them. There was blood on the robes, though it almost blended with the regular color and it didn't take much effort to see the tears in the fabric. The golden staves they'd taken were more pristine, though the emerald crystal at the end of one of them had cracked and dulled somewhat.
Arianna turned to Maurus, though her words were loud enough that the rest of the group could easily hear: "Stay close and be ready. We're not getting more than a few moments of surprise and there are more guards here. Lock them down. If they ring the bell, we're going to get swamped."
Maurus nodded and gripped his axe with both hands. He gave Arianna a small head start, then followed, behind the most light-footed of the group and flanked by mages and the orc warlock. His jaw clenched as Arianna entered the light of the room and his chest felt tight with nervousness as he watched the elf at her right gesture imperiously at the cage.
Thankfully, the guards didn't immediately see through the deception and as Maurus and the others crept closer, the guards looked at the prison bars. In the moment of inattention, Maurus and the group hurried past the last torch before the room and when the four warlocks began their incantations, the advance became a quiet charge.
Maurus burst into the room, sidestepping the leftmost warlock and swept his gaze around, taking stock. Three felhounds and a felguard were glaring impotently at the elves, their bodies translucent and ghostly. Two bound felguards stood back to back, swinging their swords in deadly arcs to keep a gaggle of imps from running past them to the bell hanging on the wall. Mirlia was swiping her whip at the lost ones, working with the felhunters on Maurus' side to keep the shadow priests from putting their magic to use. That had still left a good number of imps, lost ones and succubi to advance on the four warlocks, but they were thrown into confusion by the new arrivals. Three lost ones vanished in puffs of smoke and confused bleats emerged from the smoke, while several others died in a flurry of stabs from the leading elves. Half a second later, the room grew hot, heating Maurus' armor and singing his fur as a stream of fire flowed past him, smashing into the succubi like a physical blow.
Gritting his teeth, he leaped forward, faintly aware of the others following him, and swung his axe with a fury that felt deeper and more bitter than it usually did. He exulted in the sight of the blood spraying from the succubus, but it was only a brief satisfaction so he stomped forward, hacking and kicking. It was a tremendous effort to keep himself from roaring his fury, but he managed, taking vicious satisfaction in the death rattles and the wet, crunching bones.
Mathias and Calen found his side, guarding his sides with blade, hammer and holy light. By the iron bars, another barrage of magic cut a swathe through the imps and succubi there and the ground rumbled and shifted and rose beneath them. The latter was the work of the shamans inside the cell, who crouched by the bars with their chained hands pressed flat against the ground. They weren't the only prisoners getting involved. Several of them managed to snare and throttle an imp by throwing out their lengths of chain between the bars and other threw small objects between the bars.
What seemed like just moments after, the battle ended, punctuated by the crunching sound of an imp beneath Maurus' hoof. Again, he had to restrain his urge to shout, this time in triumph and relief that that no-one had been injured in the fight. The bound and unresisting felguards were ruthlessly cut down while the rest of the Horde soldiers formed a ring around the banished demons, weapons and fistfuls of magic ready for the moment they became solid again. He felt a twinge of distaste at the sight, but it was so faint that he forgot it the instant he heard a groan of metal and looked toward the sound.
The two earth elementals that the imprisoned shamans had summoned were pulling at the bars. Apparently, the prisoners were as eager to get out as Maurus had been and he couldn't blame them. There were maybe a hundred prisoners in a cell that couldn't have been more than thrice the size of the elf cell and he could see in the stiff, pained postures and bitter expressions of the prisoners that their stay had been even worse than his. It made worry and a colder anger snuff out his excitement and he turned to the ones that had killed the bound demons.
"Find the keys."
They found a number of keys, identical to the handful they already had, which made the process of unchaining the prisoners a little faster. It was still slow going though, and Maurus' empty stomach churned with both impatience, worry and anger as he watched the prisoners and tried to spot any familiar faces.
His first impression had been correct. The prisoners did look like they had had it worse than he had. Not only were they filthy and visibly exhausted, but Maurus spotted many half-healed burns as they shuffled out to get their chains removed. His jaw clenched at the realization that his own group had probably been treated rather gently and that realization was followed by the thought that there were still a few hundred in other cells down here.
As loudly as he dared, which was plenty in the relative hush in the room, he called: "Any officers, I want to speak to you."
His words got an odd reaction. A growl rose from the prisoners and those who could see him looked at him with bitterness written in the lines of their faces.
"They executed them all," a burned, bald troll in heavy armor spat.
Maurus sucked in a breath, inwardly cursing both the demons and himself for not guessing they would have done that. He kept his dismay from showing on his face though and instead said: "Anyone who thinks they can lead then. And those who can find their way around a cave."
A handful of trolls and undead and two orcs answered his request. They ran the gamut from the simplest tribal robes in the case of one troll to full plate on the two orcs, but otherwise, they were quite similar, filthy, scarred and with a dangerous, angry gleam in their eyes. Luckily, they were willing enough to listen to him as he, with the assistance of Arianna, outlined where they should take their soldiers to find some of the other cells.
"The paths run in something of a circle," Maurus said. "Keep going till you find empty cells, other free friends or too many enemies."
"Weapons?" One of the trolls asked. She was a large one, one of the shamans he'd seen before, and her fists opened and closed as if itching for violence. Maurus decided to take that as promising rather than a sign of recklessness.
"There's an armory further back. Make sure to have enough casters," he answered. "You're each taking warlocks for scouting and crowd control. Make sure to overwhelm everything you see. If they raise the alarm, we're dead."
"Arright," said the troll, nodding seriously. "An'thing else?"
Maurus looked at Arianna, who shook her head. "I doubt we have much time. Hurry. Don't trust an elf if she isn't with other Horde."
"Don't worry, we won't," said an undead mage with a face that showed more bone than skin. The troll nodded in agreement.
"Good," Maurus said, nodding. "Go."
Maurus blinked when the little group saluted him, raising their fists to their chests and raggedly chorusing: "Lok'tar ogar."
He returned the salute and they dispersed, calling out to the groups around them. Maurus turned to do the same, only to stop and grin hugely as Crava, Tu'jan and Zilja appared out of the crowd. His spirits lifted even more as he saw Mo'raka and Rilli come up behind them. He had written the latter off for dead, but the troll had apparently been lucky enough to survive and make the march.
"Good, you're alive," Maurus said and the five returned tiredly returned his grin. As Drim, Tu'jan and Rilli embraced, he looked past them. "Any more in there?"
"No," Zilja said, grimacing. She gestured to the entrance opposite to the one Maurus had entered through. "Most of them got taken that way."
"Good," Maurus said. "That's where we're going."
He turned to Arianna and shifted his axe to lie over one shoulder. He could see the impatience in her posture too, as well as a tired slump in her shoulders as she sheated a knife, the one Maurus had made for Mathias. Mathias was standing beside her and asked: "Well?"
"He's still up north. I think the horn is northeast."
It seemed Mathias was truly concerned about their situation because his only reaction was the slightest displeased tilt of his mouth before he nodded. Arianna gave him a hard glare before turning to Zilja and the others. "Ven'Zarul," she clarified, before repeating what she'd said on the way between the cells: "He left with a good part of the garrison. This was the best time for a breakout. The other dreadlord might be here though, with his shivarras. We need to stay unnoticed till we're ready, it's our only advantage."
"Don't worry, we know," Tu'jan rumbled, fists clenching. There was an angry fire in his bloodshot and swollen eyes as they met Maurus' before turning to his axe. Maurus smirked and loosened the three maces he'd stuck in his belt and held them out to his comrades. Mathias drew the two extra blades he'd put in his belt and held them out as well.
"All we've got to offer for now," Maurus said.
The orc and the trolls eagerly accepted the offerings.
With ears pricked for both the ringing of bells and the subtler sounds of approaching enemies, they quickly made their way to the next cell, encountering no patrols on the short distance. Even more than last time, Maurus worried as Arianna went ahead, this time bringing along Wiven and another mage in chains that hadn't been properly fastened.
It didn't help Maurus' worry that Wiven hardly had to fake his despondency and he was already moving when the first spells were cast. The casters around Maurus threw their spells just a few heartbeats after Arianna, which meant Maurus and the other warriors burst into the room surrounded by fire, golden light and slithering shadow. He kicked an imp and his breath escaped him in a exhale of rough laughter as it flew straight into the face of a succubus. She had been poised to leap at one of the warlocks, but instead, she reeled back, though not far enough to avoid his axe. As Mathias and Calen pushed back the felguard by the prison bars, he grimaced as he felt a numbing cold spread over his shoulder and for a moment, he felt something tighten around his mind.
Then it vanished, as the shadow priest staggered sideways, the dark mist around his hands and in his eyes winking out as a empty steel glove landed on the stone beside him. As Maurus pressed the attack and his allies drove a wedge into the reeling guards, more projectiles pelted their enemies, bits of armor, stones and whatever the prisoners could get their hands on. The imps in particular were targeted, aborting many fireballs before they could be thrown.
While Maurus and his comrades fought their way along the bars, the elves let loose a wave of magic along the other wall. Some managed to dodge the fire and light and shadow, but that brought them too close to the warriors and the Horde-aligned demons, who didn't waste the opportunity. Mirlia tore out the throat of a succubus, bound felguards stabbed two lost ones in the back and elf, troll and orc weapons flashed out to open bellies and shatter skulls.
Just like that, to Maurus' relief and surprise, the fight was over. The last succubus crumbled to the ground, fire eating away her beauty, and the lost ones returned to their own forms as blades opened their throats. The prisoners in the cell cheered, a worryingly loud noise and Maurus shouted, more from nerves than anger: "Quiet!"
They did, surprisingly, though gradually, after he repeated the order and as he waited for them to quiet, he was more aware of his own nervous pulse than their actual noise. When the silence fell again, he snapped to those outside the cell: "Keys!"
Surprising him again, most of the group outside immediately obeyed, beginning to comb the bodies. The only ones that didn't were those that were already fiddling with the cell door and the handful that were watching the banished demons, waiting for the magic to fade.
"Maurus!" Someone called and he followed the sound to find Shayla looking at him from behind the bars. Drunnya and Zrahi stood by her sides and behind them, he could see other familiar faces, standing in a tight group. For once, Shayla showed none of her usual disapproval. There was just tired relief in the deep lines of her face and that didn't even change when her eyes ran over Arianna and Mirlia.
The relief was understandable. Shayla was missing a tusk and a new burn scar crawled up her neck from beneath her armor. Most of the prisoners were similarly marked. He saw blackened skin, singed clothes, missing hair and heat-damaged armor and judging by the stained and broken armor, there were or had been more wounds he couldn't see.
It brightened his mood a fraction though, when Zilja, Tu'jan and Crava hurried over to their friends, showing a rare, open joy. It made him able to grin as he approached and said: "Guess you're itching to move on?"
"Preferably over the corpses of the demons," Zrahi said darkly, teeth bared. A click and a squeal of metal announced the unlocking of the door and as she let go of the bars, Maurus noted that there were more burns along her palms that even her troll blood had yet to heal. "You better have weapons."
"They're down the hall. This place is nothing if not practical," Mathias said drily, inclining his head toward the far tunnel and getting a number of tight half-smiles doorway in response.
The prisoners pushed and grumbled, eager to get out of the cell, many of them seeming to deliberately stomping on the corpses of the imps. Maurus' comrades were no different, crunching bones underfoot as they left the cell, still in a tight group. They only separated to have their chains unlocked and as they did, something twisted painfully in Maurus' gut when he saw Widget at the center of the group. There was none of the exuberant energy in her posture now. As she walked forward, she was making herself smaller, like a beaten dog and it wasn't the soot that made her face and hair black anymore. Quite a bit of her hair had been burned off, leaving messily healed and still fresh black burns clearly visible. Maurus' head throbbed as he saw that one ear was mostly gone, the remaining bit as blackened and red and raw as the cheek beneath it.
Shayla stepped in close to Maurus. Her voice was filled with disgust as she murmured: "The imps made a game of keeping us away from the bars. But they seemed to have it in for the goblins."
Maurus looked down, saw the dead eyes of an imp staring up at him and fury overcame the cold. He stomped his hoof down on the small head, squashing it with a wet crunch that didn't do anything to cheer him. Looking back at the approaching Widget, he swallowed.
"Get me what leaders there are in this lot," he ordered Shayla tersely, without looking away from Widget. "Arianna, get them up to speed."
Arianna and Shayla acknowledged the order and left, for once showing no distaste for each other. Maurus watched them for a moment before he knelt on the bloody floor, putting his axe down in front of him. As gently as he could with so much fury in his chest he said: "Widget."
Her eyes were wide and wet as they met his and her lips, which usually smiled maniacally, trembled.
He held out a hand and someone handed him a key. Due to her size, Widget had had a single manacle locked tight around her throat rather than around her wrists and the skin around it looked raw and blistered. She winced when Maurus folded a hand around her shoulder, enveloping much of her upper body and whimpered as he unlocked the collar. Underneath it was more angry, red skin, wrapping half-way round her throat like a primitive brand, centered beneath her ear.
"Widget," he repeated, this time unable to keep a bit of a growl out of his voice. She blinked at the word.
"Want to go home, Boss," she said, almost too quietly to be heard over the noise in the room. The squeak in her voice was not at all funny this time and he nodded seriously.
"I little while to go," he said. With his free hand, he reached back and loosed the stirrups that were fastened to his back. "I'll take you through anyone stupid enough to stand in out way."
He looked up and found that it was Wiven who'd handed him the key. He still looked ashen and grief-stricken, but there was a reassuring glint of anger in his eyes now. Maurus nodded toward him and added to Widget: "And if anyone tries fire, I'll stuff one of your bombs down their throat and let the the elf detonate it."
That got a ghost of a smile from Widget and the churning in Maurus' stomach abated just slightly. "Now get up, we're in too much of a hurry for your stubby little legs."
While they waited for Shayla to gather the leaders, Zrahi repeated the same story that they'd heard by the other cell: Almost everyone above the rank of grunt had been executed. The handful Shayla returned with were sergeants who had been lucky enough to avoid that fate or people who had been second-in-command in their units. Again, he was surprised when they accepted his orders with little hesitation and went ahead toward the second armory.
With his anger stoked by what he had seen and heard and his confidence boosted by his reunion with his soldiers, he led the group on and to his astonished relief, the rest of the rescues went smoothly. A while later, he found himself back at the meeting point, with the 27th behind him and its new leaders standing in a huddle around him.
"We keep moving," Maurus said, emphasizing it for the third time in the impromptu briefing. Forcing himself to ignore the bile that rose in his throat, he continued: "If someone is unable to keep up and we aren't able to carry them, don't leave them to the Legion."
It was a testament to the desperation of the situation that there was no more protest to that idea than a silent grimaces and that the idea of relying on a succubus for their distraction had gotten much the same reaction.
He looked at the three druids that stood on one side, the bulk of the two tauren making the tunnel feel even more cramped than it already was. The third, amazingly, was a troll, and if he hadn't seen the small man change into a tusked sabercat, he wouldn't have believed it.
"You three stick with the shamans. Stay on the eastern flank. When the naga come for us, you swim through the confusion and get to the regiments to the northeast."
The dark brown tauren in the feather-trimmed leathers opened his mouth, a distinct edge of distaste in his expression. Maurus continued before he could speak, tone unyielding: "The news is more important than we are. And getting the army to head toward us will only improve our chances."
There was a short moment of hesitation before the tauren nodded stiffly.
"Any questions?" Maurus asked. He glanced at the faces around him and beneath the general grim composure, he saw fear and uncertainty, rage and grief. When no-one broke the silence, he nodded and tossed his head. "Back to your troops. It won't be long."
As the leaders and druids made their way back along the tunnel, Maurus took a breath and felt himself relax just slightly at no longer being the focus of so many eyes, his shoulders slumping.
"How in the blazes am I the one they listen to?" he murmured. Plenty of them were older than him, particularly the elves and he couldn't possible be the most experienced.
"You speak firmly, look confident and make sense," Calen answered, just as quietly.
"As mad as that sounds," Mathias agreed dryly. "Now don't ruin the impression. Any more than the snot stain does already."
Maurus self-consciously stood up a little straighter and felt the weight of Widget shift a little. That she didn't retort to Mathias' comment made something in Maurus' chest twinge unpleasantly. She had never been that quiet.
The time passed agonizingly slowly. It was an effort not to let his nervousness show in his posture, though it did help glancing at Calen, Mathias and the others around him.
It was almost a shock when a distant bell rung, the clear sound slicing through all other noise as it reached his ears both from down the tunnel and from the opening ahead. It made the tension in the air even heavier, a pressure that seemed to press against Maurus' back. He raised a hand, palm up, forcing it to keep steady and hoped his solid, unmoving form would be enough of a signal that they weren't moving just yet. With weapons in hand, the fear and worry was eclipsed by the need for vengeance and escape, something that he knew could be both a blessing and a curse.
Thankfully, the regiment held their ground.
His eyes traveled to the opening ahead, only now fully trusting himself to look at the square of open air. Arianna stood in the dim light, beside the two blood elves in the stolen robes, their heads turned to the outside. Maurus had no idea how they were able to keep the tension out of their posture, though he was glad they were, because otherwise, someone might see through the deception. They looked like workers taking a breath, enjoying a casual talk and the slight breeze that played with their hair and the edges of their robes.
It was so at odds with the almost painful tension in Maurus' body as he stood, stiffly waiting for a signal. His eyes were fixed on Arianna, his ears were peeled for the sound of more alarms and his thoughts kept circling the worry that they had already missed their moment.
Finally, Arianna waved a hand in a motion that could have been a casual movement and Maurus started forward, his lips drawing back from his teeth in something halfway between a grin and a snarl. He strode forward, the buzz of fear and rage in his body exploding into a roar as he felt the shamans' magic seep into him. By the time he reached the tunnel opening, he was running, his mouth tasted faintly of copper and his doubts were forgotten. His hooves clacked on the muddy rock as he came into the pale light outside. The fresh, damp air, the drizzling rain and the open space was bliss after the fetid, cramped tunnels and despite his fear, aches and the hollow pain of his empty stomach, his grin became less of a grimace.
The area north of the portal mound was just as Arianna had described it. A ways to his right the rocky ground slid into the water and the lake faded into the mist. To his left and to the right, the ground was open except for a the scattered leather huts and the poles standing between them. Further out, the mist almost swallowed the trunks of the remaining mushrooms and Maurus inwardly thanked the spirits for the low visibility.
A large group demons and lost ones had gathered in a loose formation between the two densest groupings of huts. They definitely hadn't expected to see so many Horde streaming out from the tunnel, but they recovered quickly. The formation tightened and several succubi launched into the air.
"Clip those wings," Maurus shouted before gritting his teeth and squinting as he ducked through a wave of fire and shadow that the lost ones and demons lost at him. He felt, more than heard, Widget's shudder and was thankful when the felhounds at his feet drained the magic from the air and snuffed out the worst of the barrage.
The enemy felhounds would have done much the same to the initial Horde spells, which was why the spearhead of the Horde charge was almost exclusively composed of the heaviest, plate-clad fighters. They crashed into the enemy line, letting out their rage in a bellow that drowned out all other sound for a moment. Maurus came at a felguard, raising his axe but instead of letting it fall, he kicked as hard as he could at the demon's knee, catching it by surprise and sending it tumbling to the ground with a howl. As he swung the axe down at the prone demon, a lost one slipped forward, blade aimed at his eye, but Mathias intercepted the stab before smashing the lost one in the face with the pommel of his sword.
On the opposite side from Mathias, Calen bashed in the skull of a felhound before incinerating a succubus with a snarled word. Drim laid about himself with savage abandon, cutting down a lost one and a felguard while paying no heed to the sword clanging off his shoulderplate and Drunnya and Shayla smashed a hole in the formation with the weight of two earth elementals. They widened it with twin blinding flashes of lightning which marked the beginning of the Horde casters attack. As more melee fighters poured into the enemy line, the blue tint of Zangarmarsh was washed away by a rainbow of colors that streaked over Maurus' head and drew cries of pain and dismay from the demons and lost ones.
Fire drove a felguard back and a violet-tinged shadow opened another for a killing blow from Maurus, before a succubus screamed in pain, burns erupting beneath her skin. Maurus grinned savagely as he pushed forward, maintaining his momentum and trusting his comrades to keep him from overreaching. Several more holes were gouged in the line as demons were banished, lost ones faltered with terror written in in their misshapen expressions and furthest to the left, the line buckled under the sustained assault of the blood elves' magic.
Maurus could feel the pressure mounting as more and more of the 27th got out of the tunnel and joined the battle. His heart pounded as he weathered several blows and jerked his head out of the way of a whip. He stomped on an imp, snarling and pushed forward with more force. It seemed like the distraction had worked and the horn he trod underfoot told him that they had managed to banish the demon who would have sounded the alarm, but they still needed to get through as quickly as possible, to get them a lead. A ways behind him, he heard shouts and realized that guards on the portal mound were probably firing down on the 27tjh, another reason to hurry, even if there were still sounded no horns or bells.
'Break,' he thought, grimacing as a felguard blocked his strike and stood firm against his advance. 'Break. Break damn you!'
Another ululating cry went up and out the corner of Maurus' eye, he saw a mass of dark metal, blue skin and blackened, but vibrantly colorful hair as a group of trolls hit the enemy in the flank. A ripple went through the crowd in front of him and his heart leapt as both demons and lost ones began shrinking back. He could feel the flankers pressing the enemies back and suddenly, the enemy broke, defending themselves as best they could as they retreated toward the west.
The frontline fighters rushed forward like wolves scenting blood and Maurus rushed forward with them, teeth bared, his blood singing with triumph and his muscles bursting with strength. He took only a few steps though, before sanity rose over the bloodlust and it still took an enormous effort to make himself stop. Pressing back against the advancing crowd, he took a deep breath, thought back to Garon in Ashenvale and roared: "Hold! Hold! Let them go, damn you! Hold!"
At first his shout seemed to fall on deaf ears and people surged forward around him, but he wasn't the only one shouting and in a few moments, more took up the shout and the maybe two hundred eager pursuers came to a stumbling, uneven stop.
Maurus breathed a sigh of relief before drawing himself up to his full height. He raised his axe and gestured toward the north and shouted: "North. We go north!" He roared. "We don't stop. We kill everything that gets in our way! Go!"
With that, he started forward, taking up a brisk lope. Mathias and Calen came up beside him and glancing around, he found Arianna, Wiven and all the others following him in a tight group. The ones that had begun to chase the fleeing enemies were a little slower to follow, but from behind, Maurus could hear the sound of boots on muddy stone and metal rattling, a noise that grew as the stragglers followed.
As they left the rocky ground and the mud turned the footfalls into squelches, Maurus silently prayed to the Earth Mother and every spirit there could be that his plan wouldn't lead them into disaster. It did after all lead them toward a known enemy as well as toward the closest friendly force.
He glanced around at Mathias, Calen and back at Arianna and took comfort in their determined expressions and in the slight smile Arianna gave him.
It was a gamble, but they wouldn't make a longer journey anyway, not when they were so exhausted, starved and wounded. It would have to be good enough.
Tell me what you think. I can't quite decide if I think this chapter is me spending too much time on something that is either uninteresting or unnecessary. I want to think that there are some important developments, but let me know what you think. As always, all feedback is greatly appreciated. I'm here to entertain and learn.
Cheers.