Hynes Family/Connaver/Temple Raid

Conn sat at the bow of the commandeered fishing boat, looking out over the water towards the ruined temple perched atop the outcropping of rock, and then back at his nineteen Cavalry turned Infantrymen, floating in the makeshift flotilla behind him.

He studied the outcropping for a moment, and felt a sudden thrill as he remembered the landing he made at Chaos Temple with Alois and the rest of the Crusader Army.

The men dismounted as they approached the rocky shore, a few staying back, wading in ankle-deep water to moor the boats before rallying with the others to make the short climb up the slope towards the Temple.

“Looks abandoned,” Connaver said over his shoulder to his Uncle.

“Hiding, more like. Priests tend to be a panicky lot.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

Johann snorted. “Burn it. With the priests inside, if we have to.”

“I’m not burning a Priest. Not without orders, anyway.”

“We’re at War, and that is their State religion, with a Temple in your lands. Justification enough for me.”

Conn looked around, making sure all the men were in position surrounding the Temple. Then, satisfied they were prepared, he gave a flick of his hand, and his Captain lit the first Torch. Suddenly, all around them, more Torches blinked to life and, slowly, they moved forward.

“We’re not burning a Priest,” Conn said mildly, finally.

Johann just shrugged.

They surrounded the building, weapons at the ready, moving cautiously. Connaver’s group would move in first. Too many men in knife-range always complicated things, and the rest would wait outside in case needed.

Johann, as usual, was the first man in, kicking down the fire-scorched door and rushing inside, Sabre at the ready, Conn following close behind.

Nothing.

The five torches lit the small Temple, yet still barely enough to properly see. Feeling around in the darkness, they moved deeper into the Temple.

“Empty,” Johann said, a hint of disappointment, sheathing his Saber. “Looks like it was already looted.”

Johann snorted. “Peasants, probably. This is the….seedier….region of Itorunt. Chances are the Government collapsed, and they had a field day tearing things up.” He leaned against the wall, pressing down with all of his body weight. “Seen it a dozen…”

The wall collapsed inward with a great crash, taking Johann with it. A high pitched squeal came from within the wall, followed by the sound of scurrying feet.

“Priest!” Johann shouted, pushing himself up through the pile of debris, “Priest! Get the bastard!”

Conn rushed to the other side of the temple, sword drawn, and slammed his entire body weight against the wall. The rotten wood collapsed without so much as a creak of resistance, and Connaver exploded into a narrow passage, directly in front of the Priest.

The man gave another little Squeal, and turned, feet hammering down towards the opposite end of the passageway…

Directly towards Johann, who met him snarling in a rage.

“Bastard!” the Knight screamed, launching himself towards the Priest, who backed away from the deranged madman.

“Stop!” Conn commanded.

The Priest wheeled, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes, realizing for the first time he was well and truly trapped.

Johann advanced towards him, face flushed. “You skirt wearing son of a…”

And that was when the Priest pulled a knife.

Johann ripped his own dirk from its sheath, still steadily advancing. “I told you we should have just burnt the bastard alive!”

The priest took up a defensive stance, and Johann lunged. Connaver could hear the fabric of the Priest’s blue and white robes tear. The man screamed the purest scream of terror Connaver had ever heard in his life, and dropped his own dagger, dropping to his knees, begging for his life, apologizing and repenting all in the same breath.

Johann, snarling, grabbed the man by the hair and lifted his head, laying the dirk against his throat.

“Stop!” Connaver ordered.

The commanding tone brought his Uncle up cold. They looked eyes for a moment, but Conn refused to waiver, even in the face of the pure bloodlust in his Kinsman’s eyes.

Johann let the man go, and spit in the Priest’s face. Spinning, he crawled his way over the debris pile and stormed from the Temple.

“Thank you,” the Priest whined, clutching tight to Connaver’s leg. “Thank you so much! Gold! I have Gold! Lots of it! Just don’t kill me!”

“Captain!” Connaver yelled, and in moments his Men-at-Arms were there, peeling the groveling Priest away. “He said there was Gold. Find it,” he ordered, and dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

“What do you want done with him when we’re done?”

“This is a Penal Colony,” Conn said. “I reckon we just toss him in with the rest of them and see how long he survives.”