Twin Souls (Xalet)

[Verilian]

Timestamp: Fall 81st, 511 AV The day had started off like any other day in Syliras. Xalet had no idea that it would end the way it did. As usual Xalet was busy training. His patron knight had left him to practice his sword drills while she went to attend to some knightly business, so Xalet wasn't really expecting any interruption. If he had wanted to take a break he probably could have, but considering who was about to walk in it probably wouldn't be a good idea if he could. About twenty or thirty chimes later a man walked in. It was a knight Xalet didn't recognize, but by the two swords on his crest Xalet knew him to be a Knight Sergeant. "Squire Xalet?" The knight addressed Xalet as he approached, his eyes roaming the full height of his body, perhaps a bit surprised to find himself face to face with an Akalak. "I am Seargeant Knight Aurum Ward, 1st wing, gray company, second regiment of the silver company. I have a task for you. Your Patron, Sera Braklin, has been assigned to other duties at the moment but she assured me that you could handle it. I would have sent a paige but I was heading this way anyway so I thought I would drop in the order myself." The knight held up a rolled parchment and offered it to Xalet. The scroll was marked with the seal of the knights. When Xalet reached for it the man didn't let go at first, locking eyes with the akalak. "A patrol left about a bell ago north up the Kabrin. They need to be recalled immediately. Make sure they get this order." And that was all the knight had to say. He let go of the scroll, allowing Xalet to take it, then turned and went back the way he came. Regardless of Xalet's reaction to bein given a task by a random sergeant knight, it can safely be assumed that he obeyed the order and soon enough Xalet found himself heading North along the Kabrin road. The patrol had over a bell's head start on him, and the sun would soon set, but darkness shouldn't pose to much of a problem for the akalak. It was mostly the forest that would obscure his view. If he was lucky they would have their torches lit, making them even easier to perceive in the distance, but how often did luck grace a lowly squire? Either way Xalet had some hard riding ahead of him. OOCFeel free to post any reactions Xalet might have to the knight's order. Once you get out on the road the ride will be pretty uneventful, but this is just the opening posts so don't worry. You can end your post with the patrol just coming in to view, but still to far away to try to call out to them or anything like that.

[Xalet]

Xalet worked his drills hard and even had an extra bit of training equipment. His Patron found that his stance was often too wide to account for his height advantage, and thus was forcing his feet to keep an appropriate distance apart while making his sword strikes. To this end a length of rope with two loops was found between his feet, each loop wrapped about an ankle. If he stepped too far, the rope would pull and he would either find his foot stayed by the weight of his own body, or falling onto the ground tripped up by his own feet.

When the Knight arrived, the squire immediately sheathed his weapon and lifted the visor on his helmet. "Yes Ser?" he replied as the man asked his name. Listening on he felt a certain pride in thinking that his Patron believed so strongly in him. Likewise, that put a pressure upon him, corralling that pride and keeping it down to low levels. He gripped the scroll and and pulled, only to find the scroll locked in place. "Yes Sergeant. I will be on my way immediately." and with that, Xalet removed the rope from his sollerets and hustled to get his things together.

Though he accepted his task so quickly, now the Akalak was beginning to realize how ill prepared he seemed. It wasn't often he rode out of Syliras alone, even though he often practiced nearby the city walls. He would need his things, as being without them at anytime was disgraceful. His gladius, his shield, his crossbow, and of course his armor. All those items were a part of his standard uniform, as decided by Sergeant Braklin the day she received him as her squire.

Getting the loaned warhorse he typically practiced with, the Akalak mounted up and set out to the north, moving along at a trot to catch up with the patrol. He was lucky to have the riding experience he had, but Xalet knew he was still quite far from being an expert rider. Even as it was horses didn't trust him much, perhaps sensing the volatile nature of the Akalak with their bestial instincts.

Regardless of the time, it was lucky that Xalet had the predatory vision of the Akalaks to rely on, the ability to view the infrared spectrum. From there, large signatures of heat such as patrols, creatures, and torches could be spotted quite readily against the ambient temperature surrounding them. Exactly that type of signature seemed to slowly start to form far up the road ahead of him. He was drawing close now. "I made decent time. I should count my blessings." With a quick shudder of his reigns and a squeeze of his thighs, he coaxed the horse up to a canter in an attempt to quickly complete his charge and get back to Syliras for a much needed bath.

[Verilian]

Some might consider it fortunate to be able to see in the infra red spectrum, but soon after spotting the patrol Xalet might have preferred he not have the ability to see. At least the he wouldn't have known how helpless he was to prevent what occurred next. In addition to the signatures of the patrol on the road, Xalet spotted additional heat signatures among the trees in either side, and the patrol was just walking between them as Xalet ushered his horse into a canter. He would need to go a lot faster to have a chance in being a part if what happened next. Suddenly one of the heat signatures near the front of the group pulled up short, all the others shuffling about in surprise as the first fell off it's horse and hit the ground. Xalet could imagine the metallic thud that must have come with the fall, and a few other heat signatures fell to the ground before the ones on the side of the road jumped in and all pit chaos erupted. It was impossible to tell who was winning or loosing, but Xalet could see the bodies slowly falling and the battle before him becoming smaller and smaller. Even at a gallop Xalet knew he probably wouldn't make it in time. A flash of what looked like lightning lit up the road as it streaked across and disintegrated what Xalet could only hope was not a knight. In that instant he was able to see the shining armor of his fellow Sylirans doing battle against black clad figures before all fell dark and his eyes were forced back into the infra red spectrum. As he drew near Xalet could hear the ring of steel on steel, far more intense than anything he ever heard in training, and the cries of pain from both sides of the conflict. The agony in the voices of those who were dying was perhaps one of the most awful sounds in all of Mizahar, and their screams rang out even over the sounds of the battle. By the time Xalet rode into the fray only two or three knights remained with at least twice as many opponents against them, and one of them turned as he heard the sound of hooves approaching. That was when Xalet saw it, illuminated in the light of the fallen torches which threatened to ignite the forest around them, the symbol that every knight of Syliras was taught to recognize, the crest of the Ebonstryfe. Ebonstrye, so near to Syliras, and still they wore their crest openly as if in sheer defiance of their hated enemies, the Knights. The Ebonstryfe that turned to face him lifted a crossbow and launched a bolt which struck Xalets mount in the throat, sending both rider and steed crashing to the ground. The Stryfe quickly discarded the crossbow in favor of a sword and dagger combination and Xalet would barely have time to get to his feet, much less raise a weapon or shield, before the warrior was on him. Slashing down at Xalet's throat with the sword, it's blade flashed angrily in the flickering light of the torches before it struck flesh, ground, or steel. If Xalet managed to not die from that first blow another would follow, and another, the aggressive onslaught not slowing until the akalak rose to his feet. He would then, finally, have a moment for breath as the surprised Ravokian stared at the towering figure of the akalak before the fight would commence again with a powerful thrust straight for the akalak's gut. OOCThis man is a better fighter than you, but his weapons are the shortsword and dagger whereas you have your armor, sword and shield, so you should be able to parry or at least survive these first several strikes.

[Xalet]

Viewing the strange movement of images ahead of him, the Akalak attempted to make sense out of what he was seeing. That was when the formula of battle started to come together in his head. "Oh no. It can't be." he thought, his horse speeding toward the cluster of figures battling for dominance. Not everything was so clear at this distance, given the comparison of the bodies putting against the weapons they could have been wielding. Different brilliantly colored figures were falling lifelessly to the ground, their signatures moving no longer. What he saw next was something that all of his time as a squire did not prepare him for. It was the instant incineration of a man.

This was battle. Real battle. Terrifying, mortal, bloody battle. Immediately Xalet's peripheral vision narrowed, tunneling toward the focus of his attention. It was so grotesque, and at the same time so important he couldn't turn his head away. Perhaps it was lucky he did not, for a warrior needed to understand the capabilities of magic. For one such as Xalet, whom abstained such things in the pursuit of physical perfect it was especially morbid, "That's...not possible." he told himself, his hands shaking as they violently gripped the reigns. His comrades were right there, and yet he felt so alone. Alone except for one familiar voice.

"Xalet, you're freezing! Don't freeze Gods damn it!" it shouted at him, giving him just enough time to brace for impact against the ground. The earth came up so quickly at him as his horse tumbled down to the dirt, his own heavy body rolling once before stopping. Ebonstryfe. They were Ebonstryfe, and now face to face with one in battle Xalet felt the crushing pain of fear gripping him.

"You fool, get that shield up, get your sword out!" his dark half screamed at him, struggling to take control of Xalet's armor clad body in this, his most stressful time. It was his very first instance with true mortal combat, and it all but took his breath right from his lungs. "Xalet let me do this! Xalet can you hear me!? Let me do it! Xalet!? XALET!? You're going to get us both killed! Your name would be announced by Priskil, just like the others, do you want that!?" That final comment was enough to force Xalet to scramble up to his knees and pull on the strap of his shield, swinging it around far enough to get a incomplete but serviceable grip upon his defensive heater.

The assailants weapon screeched against the rim of Xalet's shield, driving it down to the ground. Although the time before him moved quickly, his internal dialog moved at the speed of thought, and an entire conversation took place within those few split seconds. "Xalet back off. You need to back off. You don't have the taste for blood, this man will kill you! You don't have it, you never had it! Why are you so resistant!? Is this all because of what happened all those years ago? It was a mistake, ok! Stop s--"

"What...what was a mistake? What do you mean, all those years ago?"

"Xalet, for the love of Priskil just back off, there's no time. You need to give me control, or I'll take it from you!" another strike was caught by a raised forearm. That rickety armor that Xalet wore, the same thing he had dreams of removing one day and receiving that gleaming suit of polished, pristine plate. It was saving his life. That old plate, with it's serviceable chainmail beneath, and beaten old gambrson beneath that was absorbing just enough to keep him alive.

"You're embarrassed!? What you're ashamed!? Then sulk in the corner of your mind, but give me the body! Xalet give it to me! Now!" the voice continued to cry out, violently demanding in anyway it could. Another strike rocked his breastplate, the sound of metal on metal grinding in an ear piercing shriek before cutting barely into his side as it worked just beneath the ribs where the plate turned into just chainmail. A foot came upward as he rose to a knee before finally realizing...was he this useless?

"Xuphim...ok...I'll back off." Xalet relented. It was the first time in his entire life he could remember doing so. It was all just too much for him. His right arm went slack, as did his entire body for just the blink of an eye. As that huge form reanimated, his right arm came up bearing his gladius, parrying the final blow of the pressing onslaught before he finally rose to his feet.

Xuphim thought clearer than Xalet. No chance to run, he would just die tired. The numbers didn't look good either. Xalet really was a total idiot, what had he gotten them both into? Xuphim blew heavily out the front of his helm, standing up to his full height. His left arm jerked, forcing that shield to ride further up his forearm where it belonged. Keep that shield close. Get in close. Watch the opponent. Basic training, that's all Xalet knew, and so, that's all Xuphim knew. That short breather was good enough to get him acquainted with the body he wore, or rather, it had to be. Blading his body slightly, he stepped in with his knees bent, his shoulder against that shield as he thrust it into the blade coming straight at him. Throw that weight around, bring that gladius in low, he reminded himself. Beneath that helm Xuphim's teeth were bared, lips curled back into a snarl. Beneath his gauntlets his knuckles were white beyond that purple skin, holding his gladius's grip with everything he had. He thrust his own blade upward from a low position, remembering to stab with the gladius for maximum damage.

[Verilian]

Basic training. There was a reason so much time was spent on basic training. It saved lives, and in particular it was saving Xalet's life at that moment. His armor took some of the damage, but it was Xuphim's actions and use of the basics that put them back on even footing. The Ebonstryfe fought back, his sword cracking into Xalet's shield as a dagger came around but was pulled back in retreat of the upswing of Xalet's gladius. Still, the stryfe was a skilled fighter and the gladius was easily turned away and the onslaught was renewed in full force, forcing Xuphim to go back on the defensive. Behind him he sensed the presence of another fighter and heard a familiar voice. "Xalet, what are you doing here?" He would recognize the voice as a former squire, Darwin was his name, who had recently finished his quest and become a full knight. "I sure hope what they say about you is true, Xalet," the young knight forced out between grunts as he defended against his own opponent, "That you are watched over by Priskil, because right now we could use some hope!" "RAISE SHIELDS," one of the knights shouted, drawing the attenion of both Syliran and Ravokian eyes. Darwin quickly dropped to one knee and raised his shield over his head, reaching behind him and yanking Xalet down with him just as a hail of arrows rained down upon them. "They're killing their own people," one of the knights shouted, which was punctuated by the fact that the man Xalet had been fighting was pierced through the shoulder by one of the arrows as he cowered within his armor. "How many more are out there," Xalet whispered just before the fighting renewed. Xalet's opponent was wounded but he wasn't out of the fight. The warrior dropped his dagger and shifted his sword to his uninjured arm and pressed the attack on Xalet again, though the squire would find it far less difficult to defend against than before. The stryfe was fighting with his offhand now, and his wound was slowly draining him, but the threat wasn't over. An overhand strike came at him, which Xalet would likely block with his shield, followed by a straight forward thrust. Behind him Darwin fought with his opponent and the sound of swords screaming against each other rung out as the two furiously tried to kill one another. Across the battlefield one of the Ebonstrye stood calmly, staring at them through pale white eyes, and in his hands a strange mist was collecting. Xalet didn't have time to wonder what that meant because his opponent struck at him again with an overhand chop and the next thing he knew both of them were stunned by a sudden flash of light as another bolt of lightning shot out across the battlefield and disintegrated one of the knights. Now all they were three, Xalet included, and the gods only knew how many other Stryfe were out there waiting to jump into the fray. OOCIf it doesn't make sense for other knights to know about your mark I can edit that out. I didn't know if it was a secret or not.

[Xalet]

OOCNo it's fine, pretty much everyone knows Xalet is marked by Priskil. The order thought it was interesting enough when it happened that he was moved from his previous Patron to Irine Braklin, whom also carries the Mark of Priskil, thinking that she would understand Xalet better than any other Patron.

His shield moved at just the right time, deflecting that blow. It worked, just like it did in practice. The weight of that shield was so familiar to the Akalak that while his skill was not legendary, the sheer amount of time it spent on his arm allowed his body to recall proper and efficient motion involving it. As much as Xuphim hated to admit it though, his skill with a blade was easily surpassed by the Ebonstryfe. To obtain the rank of a full member that man had to be well trained, even beyond what Xalet and Xuphim had undergone. There was still quite a ways to go for those two. There was a reason the Knights traditionally wore such heavy and layered armor, it's protection could not be underestimated.

"Not Xalet, Xuphim." the Akalak grunted as he swung his gladius forward, only to have it knocked to the side, quickly able to interpose his shield before any retribution met his body. Just as he had pulled his elbow back for the most powerful thrust he could imagine, he felt his entire body yanked toward the rear, only to be displaced from the open area that was no filled with arrows. What an utterly ruthless tactic. While Xuphim wouldn't have been against that kind of maneuver himself, it felt somehow desperate.

Pulling himself back up from his knees, Xuphim straightened his stance out and prepared to fight much more aggressively, noticing the wound the man was now sporting. When you had the advantage you attacked, when you didn't you defended. That was the teaching. "Grrr..." Xuphim snarled as he brought the edge of his shield up to meet the sword before attempting to twist out of the way of the next attack. Bringing in his gladius for support, he managed to deflect the blow but the thrust caught the back of his wrist, gouging the skin. Only dealing with one weapon from the weak side of his opponent may have been just the necessary movement of the scales in his favor, though Xalet had not escaped completely unscathed. It was time to finish the man off. Or so he thought.

The clash of thunder ripped through the air. The smell of ozone followed the lightning bolt as it eliminated yet another Knight. Xuphim felt his blood boiling. Magic at close range was enough to turn his anger into a rage. The fear that Xalet had was still felt, but it was channeled into aggression rather than acting as a paralyzing agent. Still though, the close proximity to the lightning caused a few short sparks to glisten from Xuphim's armor and leave his ears ringing. His shield arm jerked involuntarily before he shook the numbness out of it. Stumbling slightly he caught his balance before falling over completely.

Drawing strength from Priskil was something Xuphim had learned long ago through Xalet's trials. Due to his connection with the lady of light, he was put with someone similarly as gifted whom would become his Patron, Sergeant Irine Braklin, also blessed by Priskil. "We need you now Priskil, we shall eradicate those that oppose you. No survivors." No survivors indeed. No mercy for the infidels. Xalet would have offered quarter when possible, but Xuphim felt no such compulsion. Through his gauntlet, a luminescent light began to pour out from his right hand, the hand that carried the weight of his gladius. It was the light of Priskil, bringing with it hope.

Xuphim glared upward at the injured man he had been fighting. Today he would teach Xalet how to fight properly,"Beg for forgiveness from Priskil, you'll get none from me.". Dropping his defenses in order to attempt a powerful offensive attack, Xuphim propped his shoulder up against the inside of his shield as he charged with it forward, looking to remove the man clear from his feet and strike him in anyway he could with his gladius afterward, whether he remained upon his feet or not. Never strike a downed foe? Those types of terms were meant for people with honor. The Ebonstryfe had none, and Xuphim wouldn't restrict himself with such niceties either.

[Verilian]

Hope. It was a powerful tool, hope. The light, though he was only marked once, seemed more powerful then than it ever had, filling up the hearts of the remaining knights, banishing the fear in Xalet's heart, and it even gave the Ebonstryfe warrior pause, allowing Xuphim to bash him to the ground and strike the felled man with a killing blow. Priskil was with him in that moment, Priskil lent him her power in the time it was most needed. For a momen it seemed that the fight was turning in the knight's favor. They all fought valiantly, Xuphim engaged by another opponent the moment his was felled. The wizard seemed to have retreated, and the three knights were starting to win. But hope was not everything. Hope did allow one to stand in brave defiance against seemingly impossible odds. Hope did give one the courage to fight when all seemed lost. But the thing about seemingly impossible odds is... they usually actually were impossible, and hope was crushed more often than not. An arrow shot Darwin in the heart, and then there were only two, Xuphim and a knight whose name he did not know. All around them dozens of warriors, dark warriors, the black sun worn on their armor, appeared from the trees. And there were only two.. and Priskil's light flickered, and her power was crushed. No, the goddess wasn't actually there with Xalet. Her power was a gift, but it wasn't Priskil herself, and in a place where there truly was no hope it could do nothing. The warriors approached and Xuphim's fellow knight backed towards him, raising sword and shield and joining the akalak in back to back formation. "It looks like we've lost the battle, brother. Let's say you and I make a deal. We take down as many of these Rhysol's cocksuckers as we can and make them regret the day they ever decided to leave their wretched joke of a god!" The warriors closed in and the knight cut down the first one to reach him, blocking another attack with his shield. The knight threw aside all attempts at civilized combat tearing into the Ravokians as hard as fast as he could, leaving behind him a wake of dead and injured bodies before finally a blade pierced his armor and sent him to the ground, still breathing but only barely. Xuphim had his own troubles to deal with. Weapons came at him from all sides, all seeking a way through his armor into the soft flesh beneath. Xuphim could fight as hard as he might, and he could kill many, but it wasn't long before the akalak felt the bite of cold steel slide between his ribs. A hammer came down on his back, clanking against the metal and driving him to his knees. A foot collided with the side of his helm, sending him closer to the ground and sliding him off the blade in the process. As darkness settled over him the last thing Xalet or Xuphim saw was the face of the wizard looking down at him with his pale white eyes, a cruel grin upon his lips. And then all went black. Fall 84, 511 AV Xalet didn't know how much time had passed. All he knew when his senses first began to return to him was that he was alive, and he was in pain. As things became less hazy Xalet might next notice that he was naked, or close to it. He was dressed only in undergarments, and the wound in his ribs had been crudely bandaged and ached constantly. Xalet was chained, along with two other men, to a tall stalagmite in a cave somewhere. The air was crisp and cold. One of the men noticed the akalak stir and moved to sit beside him as best he could. "Xalet, right?" It was the voice of the knight who fell just before him. "Ser Aaron, ..though I don't think we are in any position to worry about formalities." The knight reached out with a manacled hand to shake Xalets, letting it drop back to the stone floor afterward. "It's been two or three days, I think. That man there, Oswald's his name.. he was the first of us to wake. They took him away.. I don't know what exactly they did to him, but it must have been torture. He hasn't spoken a word since he came back." The man in question lie slumped against the pillar, his head drooped, and didn't seem to hear a word that had been said about him. If he had he was too broken to muster a response. "I don't know what they want from of. None of us are a high rank. What can they expect to get from torturing us!?" Movement sounded further in the cave and Aaron fell silent for a moment before continuing. "We need to think of a way out of here"

[Xalet]

Xuphim could feel the resounding thwack of a body against his shield, it was just the type of maneuver that was properly followed up by a sharp thrust to the midsection. Therein rested the lethality of the gladius. Though not as long as a broadsword or as destructive as a hammer, the keen point slid through most armor, flesh, and bone quite nicely, piercing all that which lay in it's way. Things were starting to go into their favor, weren't they?

Not quite. As another Knight felt victim to a mortally wounding attack Xuphim found himself now with only one man left in his aid. Xuphim understood the importance of crushing your enemies for the sake of Syliras, but something in him echoed the hopelessness of the situation. Still, he was determined not to be so easily swayed like that slacker Xalet. Not today. Not today! There was still one man left. Don't give up, that was all Xuphim could think of. He echoed the Knight's statement, "I understand their blood takes forever to wash away, lets find out." he growled, so much more bloodthirsty than his usual self.

Xuphim was a deadly fighter, even with the training he had. This was the nature most often with the dark-half of every Akalak, in tune less with the quiet contemplation of empathy and wisdom, and leaning toward the passion and savagery of unbound emotion. Much like the Knight that remained, there was no gentlemanly finesse in Xuphim's attacks. He swung widely into the night, his gladius looking to cut anything it could. When he felt a blade get stuck inside of the plates of his armor, barely missing his flesh he responded instinctively.

Quickly kicking his body into action his hand pulled the weapon free from his plating, gripped the end of the sword and pulled it inward while throwing his shoulder into the opponent. Xuphim literally lifted him up over his shoulder and dropped him down upon his head, stomping upon him once while he was down. He went hand to hand with a combination of striking and take-down maneuvers until finally a trio of blows sent him to the ground. Coughing a mouthful of blood from the front of his visor he looked up and saw two pale eyes before all was lost.

When he awoke he noticed many things, first was that he was Xalet once more, Xuphim's side having faded away at some point. Second, his side ached tremendously from his wound. Numbered after those things, he was in some dark, dingy place with another man that was at the very least alive as well. Strangely, although he had living company, Xalet found himself trying to make contact with the other half of him, "Xuphim? Xuphim?" nothing. It was the first time that darkness hadn't taken the time to chime in and say something sour about the situation. "Yeah...it's Xalet ser." that was Xalet alright, still remembering his formalities at a time like this.

With a shake he found himself talking with Ser Aaron, the pain and tension making him completely uncomfortable. It was good to be alive, but to what end? He noted the man that had been tortured, sitting unresponsively. Xalet could feel that familiar sense of fear well up inside of him. Aaron was right, they did need to figure a way out. The first thing that came to mind was to try and physically best the manacles, which probably wasn't the best idea. "I don't know either. I was sent with a set of orders to bring your company. I wasn't instructed to read them myself, so I don't know their nature. I just remember it was important that everyone be recalled immediately. It's still hard to think, I don't know what we might use." he said in reply, his eyes wandering around in order to find anything that could be utilized in order to mount an escape. He eyed the stalagmite. Was there a weakness? Was there something to use as a tool? Xalet never had any locksmithing skills, just his size and strength to call upon.

[Verilian]

"Orders to be recalled," the knight questioned curiously, "I wonder if they knew this was going to happen? If they knew the Ebonstryfe was going to attack and were trying to bring us back to prevent it?" Ser Aaron didn't get a chance to pursue his line of thought, for less than a chime later three armed men in black entered the room. Two of them remained at a distance with crossbows pointed toward the prisoners, while the third walked up to Aaron and yanked him to his feet by his chains. "You're turn," the Ebonstryfe said with a cruel grin, and Ser Aaron immediately started to struggle with the Stryfe, but his injuries had left him weak and the dark soldier was easily able to overpower him. Interference from either of the other two knights would be met with a warning shot by one of the archers in the form of a crossbow bolt to an arm or leg. If the interference continued the next shot would be aimed to kill. For the other knight's part, he did not even look up as Aaron was dragged out of sight into another portion of the cave. Xalet was left alone with the broken knight and the shackles binding him to the stalagmite. It might be possible for him to climb the rocky structure and slide his chain over the top, but of he were to try he would discover that it widened at the middle preventing the chain from going any farther up. There was no escape by that avenue. He could try to break the chains, but that would be loud and the Ebonstryfe would undoubtedly hear him. There didn't really seem to be any other means of escape in the room, no tools or anything to use to pry the manacles open. Xalet was trapped. "Where is your Priskil now, Akalak." The other knight, Ser Oswald, raised his head and turned it in Xalet's direction. His face was bloody and torn, but most notable of all were the burned and empty sockets where his eyes should have been, and the burned mark in the center of his forehead. His eyes had been burnt out, and the knight had been branded with the symbol of the Ebonstryfe. "Where is your light now," the knight continued despairingly. "What good did her courage do us? Tell me! What good did the aid of a goddess do us against these people? She couldn't help us. Our training couldn't help us. The Wind Oak couldn't help us! What then was I supposed to do, huh!?" The knight was getting hysterical. "They took my eyes, Xalet!" He began to weep, though he could shed no tears, and fluid ran freely from his nose. "They knew things.. about me, about my family. ...What was I supposed to do?" The last question was a whisper, and the man fell silent again except for the sounds of his weeping. Xalet was left alone again with himself, trapped, with impending torture looming over him if he didn't somehow escape. In some other portion of the dark cave Ser Aaron roared out in agonizing fury, "NO!! I WONT TELL YOU ANYTHIN- AAAAGGGHHH!!!!" The voice echoed about the cave for several seconds before all was silent once more. OOCSorry for taking so long to respond. Kinda got caught up in this whole Nano thing. I know you don't have all that much to respond to in this one, but the next post will give you more and will come much quicker.

[Xalet]

Xalet had no answers. It was possible that the Sergeant believed the patrol was close enough to be of no danger for a squire to procure them and hand them orders for their return. It was also possible that the orders had nothing to do with the attack, and it was a genuine ambush. Regardless, Xalet couldn't get his mind off of how dire things were becoming. The squire looked about desperately to find some way to free himself and the others. Even then, Xalet was never good at thinking ahead. What would he do once they were freed? Where could they go? They didn't even know where they were.

It was then that more dark agents came in for Ser Aaron. Instinctively, regardless of fear or hopelessness, Xalet jumped up to push their captors away. Perhaps a little bit of Xuphim had brushed off upon him? His gesture didn't get him far though as a crossbow bolt made it's way into the meat of his large shoulder, knocking him backwards and onto the ground at that close distance. If he were a smaller and frailer man, the bolt may have gone straight through, instead it ended up getting caught on all of the muscle and tissue Xalet had lining his arms.

The Akalak seethed in pain, it was sharper than anything he had felt before. Even his stab wound had mostly turned into a throbbing ache, but this was almost overpowering. It left his hand shaking, he could only watch as the second Knight was taken away. Slumped against the ground the squire made an attempt to remove the bolt, only to feel the vibrations of his hand traveling along the shaft and up into his arm. He grimaced in pain and immediately left it alone for the time being. No weapons, no armor, pain in all parts of his body, no hope.

Xalet managed to push himself back up to a seated position when the first tortured Knight began to speak. That was when he had seen for the first time what was done to him, "Oh no..." his words were more like a breath, the sight had taken his ability to speak right from his lungs. The man's eyes were burned out, it was horrifying! "WHERE ARE YOU!?" he yelled to his second Soul. Those injuries, that brand, he didn't want that kind of mutilation, he'd rather die! Or would he? The way the man was speaking, Xalet wasn't even sure about anything anymore.

The Akalak looked down at the mark that he wore upon his palm, the mark of Priskil. Oswald was asking him questions, and he didn't have any answers. "I dont' know...I'm sorry." he replied weakly, his face falling into his palm. There wasn't much warmth right now, and the future seemed very dark. "I don't want to die here, not like this..." Xalet couldn't be sure at what point the fear became desperation. Was this the type of overwhelming sensations Xuphim felt? Reaching up to grip the bolt he started trying once again to pull it out. His desperation was overriding his reason. The only thing he could think of was perhaps using the bolt to pick the lock on his shackles, not even bother to worry that he had no clue how to do such a thing.