Lightstar Family/Xarnelf/Roleplay 52

Escape from Prison

The bedraggled man hurried along the underground tunnel as swiftly as his cramped legs could move. He stumbled a few times, over unseen rocks and other, more distasteful things, in the dim light of the underground passage. Rats scurried along on either side of the passageway, which might have been used as a sewer once, but was now forgotten.

It was probably a good thing that he could not see what he was walking through, as the ground still had a shallow rivulet of sorts flowing out from the dead knows where, and his feet occasionally came into contact with wet, slimy, unmoving objects.

The man merely focused his gaze upon a distant orb of light, somewhere at the end of this Aenil-forsaken place. His time in captivity had finally come to an end. He had tried escaping every day, and would have even succeeded two days ago, if he had not picked the exact time when the guards were changing shifts, that is. The poor prisoner had found himself caught right in the middle of them: one leaving, and one coming.

This time, he had taken a different route, and managed to find this underground tunnel. Hopefully there would be no more guards waiting for him outside...

`~`

"Sir! A man approaches our camp!" the young soldier reported after saluting to Captain Mathias. The captain looked up from studying the latest scout reports of the area and nodded in response.

"Get ready to break camp son, this may be an enemy scout. Tell the sergeants right away!"

Mathias motioned for two more men to accompany him to investigate this visitor. Upon cresting the hill, which hid their camp from any eyes to their west, the group halted and squinted to try to spot any telltale insignias upon the stranger's attire. He appeared to be dressed in chain mail armor, although his tabard was missing or too stained to be noticeable at this far distance. His hands were empty, and he stumbled quite often, even though the area was a grassy plain.

Then, all of a sudden, the figure stopped moving and raised his right hand to his forehead, shading his vision from the sun so that he might see farther.

"It seems our 'friend' has noticed us, boys. Keep your swords sheathed for now, but be ready for trouble. He appears to be alone, but you never know..."

Now, the lone man focused his attention to his side briefly, using both of his hands to do something that the three on the hilltop could not quite make out. Within another five heartbeats of tense waiting, the man's actions were made clear, as he raised his scabbarded sword high into the air before continuing his approach, maintaining his extended arm.

Soon enough, Mathias was able to recognize the familiar sapphire adorning the hilt of the blade as it caught and reflected the sunlight. His eyes widened in shock as he leaped for joy, to the amazement of his companions.

"Don't you see, boys? That's our lord himself, returned from the clutches of Ohnar! Hurry up, tell the men and make sure they're presentable! Go, now!"

Mathias pushed the other two back to camp and ran down the hill to meet the Duke.

Thirty-eight seconds later...

"My good Mathias! Hail and well met! Never would I have thought that your ugly face would bring such joy to my heart as it does today, haha!"

"My liege! The Aenil have finally answered our prayers and returned you safely to us! I have gathered the men, and our camp lies just over this hill."

"Excellent! We move at once! Bring me my horse. Ohnar's prison took a toll on these old legs, but I am confident that I shall find myself in top shape soon enough."

"Of course milord. Erm... do you really think I have an ugly face?" the poor captain inquired with a frown. All he received in response was a hearty guffaw and a couple slaps on the back.