Gaston halted at the base of the hill as his father was knocked from the mortal plane by Blondie’s arcane energies. His sword dangled loose in his fingers. Raindrops splashed upon his face. He didn’t feel the rain or his lips move as he shouted for his father.
Blondie’s lips cracked into a wide smile. “Do not be afraid young one. I’ll send to your father’s side in the depths of Tormier.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Jarik pounced from a grove of trees and underbrush which ran along the rear of the hill. The half-elf knocked Blondie from his feet. Together the pair fell into the soupy mess of earth the torrential downpour had created.
Jarik sat upon Blondie and pinned his arms to the mud with his knees. The Ildonian lay face half submerged in the mire gasping for breath through the slurry. Rain ran along the rapier’s edge to the tip pressed into the man’s cheek. “With each wound you and your goons inflicted upon me I promised myself a cut upon you. Don’t worry, this won’t hurt me one bit.”
For the first time fear raked across the Ildonian’s eyes as he struggled to free himself from under the half-elf. His hands attempted to gesture for magical incantations but to no avail. Mud splashed and covered the man who resisted against flesh and steel in the downpour. His screams pierced the battlefield each time the rogue’s blade sliced into flesh.
Gaston grasped his sword tight as his convictions wracked his conscious. Ildonians had infiltrated Catheldor castle and stole a key to the kingdom’s defenses. In an attempt to unlock the tome the queen was kidnapped, tortured, and killed mercilessly in front of them. Catheldor knights had arrived and had taken heavy losses, including the death of his father the captain of the guard. Blondie deserved what he received for all the death and destruction he had caused.
Blondie’s gasps for air was a thick staccato between screams. Blood seeped from each wound and mixed with mud. He thrashed against the half-elf upon his back and splattered the bloody slop which left a copper taste in Jarik’s mouth.
Gaston ascended the hill in a listless drift. Rain washed away the thirst for vengeance. Each step brought a hunger for justice against the Ildonian. The full weight of Catheldor must be brought upon the wretch.