The Lucky Ones,A Superhero/Fantasy RP with an idea (Closed,Running.)

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"I could incapacitate a few, but outright killing them is going to be tough without a weapon."

"That might work" Quint said, "but if you or someone else could find some way to make the guards look away from the hunter and me, even just for a second, it would make matters much simpler." If the two of them were able to get the drop on the bandits, just like the clapping hunter had pointed out, half of them would be dead before they knew what was happening. If they were spotted though... Quint had never fought a large group of armed men before, and he wasn't sure he'd like how it turned out.

He looked around the room again, realizing that he knew very few of their names, and fewer powers. Not knowing what the other scions could do was starting to become a bit of a problem.

"What exactly can all of you do? Maybe one of you has some way to distract these guards without putting themselves at too great a risk." He really didn't care much about whether the others lived or died, but he had made enough enemies already, and making them angrier didn't seem like the wisest course of action.

Judah looked down at Josslyn as she almost hid behind him. His belly tied itself into a knot, and a slightly dread came over him. Josslyn was usually quite fiery, not quick to feel fear and always resistant, but there she was behind him, scared like a lamb put before a pack of wolves.

Gently, he pulled the folds of his robe around her shoulders, to keep her warm for a slight part but also to try and comfort her some more. This had obviously shook her to her core, and he was going to need to try as be as outwardly strong as possible, even if on the inside he was close to pissing himself and crying in a heap.

"What exactly can all of you do? Maybe one of you has some way to distract these guards without putting themselves at too great a risk."

"Oh, this again...My name is Judah, if I touch something, I can make it explode when I choose" Judah said hurriedly, and gently tapped Josslyn on the back to say hers again. He seemed to be non-hostile enough, but after seeing what he could do and how easily he could do it, it seemed foolish to resist Quint, no matter how small a manner.

Josslyn swallowed and stepped forward as Judah tapped her shoulder. She was afraid of Quint, but felt safe with Juadah. She stepped besides Judah and tried to make her usual dower expression.

"I'm Josslyn, and I can control the environment. Plants, rocks, things like that. I'm supposed to try to break down the wall when we get to it." She kept her introduction short as not to falter. She stepped behind Judah again and starting breathing slowly and counting to ten in her head. Okay, don't be scared, he's trying to get out, too, just let him do his thing and let him go. I can just... look away when he starts killing people. He said he won't hurt me, so... just take it in stride... She exhaled deeply peeked out from around Judah

"Um, also, I'd rather not use a weapon... like I said, I don't like killing..." She stood there, hoping that she wouldn't have to hurt anyone.

Redd's gears were turning, thinking on how to best dispose of those guards. After half a minute, Redd's face turned from contemplative to a crooked smile. He stood up. "I have a plan, if everyone is willing. They won't even see it coming."

Redd continued. "Judah can offers us the perfect distraction. Nothing like a few explosions and smoke to set the mood." Redd turned around and pointed towards Rafiq. "And you..., Rafiq, right? How hard can you push things? I assume hard enough to throw a dozen rocks at them?"

Rafiq nodded, not even needing to think about this, "Oh yes, easily." He paused for a moment, "As long as they don't go off before I push them." He chuckled, believing the chance to be small. It could've been foolish to trust a guy he'd never so much as seen before, but it wasn't going to help anybody to be distrusting right now.

"Excellent. Then it's settled?" Redd turned to Quint and Judah to await their reply.

"It'll do," Quint said matter-of-factly. "I suppose it's the best plan we can hope for under the circumstances."

Judah was slightly conflicted. While he realised that this plan was necessary for their escape and refusing because it lead to more deaths would make him look foolish, it still didn't feel right to facilitate the deaths of others, even if they were bandits. It didn't take long for him to decide upon doing it. He gave a look of slight sorrow to Josslyn, like a non-verbal apology.

"As long as you give me some time to prepare, sealing can take a little bit..." Judah replied quietly.

Looking a little worn down, Garret asks, "You lads mind if I sit this one out? I'm... not feeling my best. I think I've use my second sight one too many times."

Redd looked at Garret, he seemed a bit... tired, to say the least. 'Ah, so there is a limit to that power, interesting'.

Redd's curiosity soon faded into a more practical mood. "Damn. I was about to ask for more information on the guards in the room. But don't worry, they're basically already dead and there isn't much risk left in this endeavour if we do it right."

"Just... give me a minute. I've been casting around since I got here."

"If we're to escape this place, this is the least threat we'll face. We'll soon have to deal with risk." Redd's thoughts wandered, he started thinking about the incredible force that Garret felt. 'We need to evade him at all costs.' Redd still didn't knew if he was fully committed to this, but he wasn't nearly at the turning point, his actions still had excuse. 'No reason to hold back then.'

He looks to Josslyn. "Don't worry, lass. I'll be able to tell you where to tear down that wall. I just... I need to sit down." He slumps down on the floor, his exhaustion clearly growing.

Quint looked to Judah. "You might want to hurry up with those rocks, the seer's not looking too good over here."

"Don't force yourself too much there, Garret, or you'll become a liability to us later" Redd said this slightly menacingly while toying with the shortsword, pausing for effect. "I'm only kidding. Though I'm not really keen on dragging you out of this prison myself."

Judah looked at Quint, tried to maintain a neutral expression, succeeded for the most part, then silently got to work on picking up and sealing rocks, then throwing them to Rafiq (after alerting him).

As each of the sealed rocks came his way Rafiq caught them, silently cursing whenever he almost dropped one, before carefully managed each one as if they would go up then and there. He shared the stones between his hands, 6 in his left and 6 in his right; spreading the shot out would be better than accurate sharpshooting here. "Alright. Ready with the stones."

Josslyn examined Quint. "Alright, seer. What should I do?"

"Wait, I believe" said Judah.

"Listen to your guardian, Lass." Garret continued. "We've got no need to do anything too risky."

Redd gestured to Quint to go together to the door. "Let's be as silent as possible until we reach their room."

"I can do that." Quint unsheathed his claws and followed Redd through the door.

Redd turned around slightly as he exited the room and signalled Rafiq and Judah to follow to him to the room in which the guards were located.

Rafiq helped by Judah carried the rocks to the door. Rafiq said whispering, but clearly "Stand aside after opening the door, you don't want to get in the way of this." Rafiq started concentrating and channelling his powers. The rocks slowly left the ground and remained in levitation, slightly swaying in front of Rafiq. He was ready to bombard the guards as soon as the door was opened.

Quint carefully pushed the door open a crack, then, ducking out of the way he slammed it completely open. Before the guards had sufficient time to react, Rafiq began launching the loaded rocks at them. In an act of impressing coordination Judah detonated the rocks shortly after or before the rocks hit. Judah quickly retreated back into the prison, not wanting to see the blood shed that would surely ensue. Josslyn follows Judah, trying to stay at the back of the group and near her protector.

As the rocks exploded, the propelled stone collided with bone and armour, putting dents when meeting armour and shattering when meeting bone. It surely wasn't enough to kill the guards, but they were stunned and a few incapacitated. The explosions and disintegrating rocks produced a lot of dust and smoke, an excellent cover from which Quint and Redd could strike.

Without waiting for Redd Quint dashed inside, leaping at the first guard he saw with claws ready. The guard noticed him at the last second, but as he opened his mouth to speak Quint's claws stabbed through his exposed throat. The bandit reached for the sword at his belt but was unable to pull it from his sheathe before he collapsed with a pained gurgling sound.

Following Quint's lead, Redd darted through the smoke with speed bordering on the inhuman. The guards reactions were terribly slow to him. 'This is almost too easy' Redd thought. He swang his shortsword horizontally slicing a guard's throat before he could react. Blood started quickly gushing through the wound. Redd kicked the soon to be dead guard into another guard behind him in order to keep him busy, then sprinted to the next.

Quint paused for a moment over his first victim. Some part of him wanted to finish the fallen bandit, make sure he was dead, but he knew that was too far. 'There are others' he thought. His struggle was interrupted by an incredible pain in his side. Looking down, Quint saw a dagger buried in his left side, held by a grinning guard. All inhibitions left him.

With a snarl, Quint grabbed the bandit and bit down on his forearm. Muscle tore, bone crunched and the guard screamed, but he didn't care. Tearing away the flesh and swallowing it, Quint kicked the guard to the ground, then pounced on top of him and tore out his throat with his teeth. Blood was everywhere, but he didn't notice the pain any more and the screaming had stopped.

Redd heard the horrible screams and noises from Quint and his victims, but he didn't have time to pay much attention to that. The next guard that Redd targeted actually had time to ready himself. Redd dashed towards him and put his forearm underneath the guard's hand just as he was about to swing vertically slowing the sword's descent long enough so that Redd could stab the guard. The arm when raised would reveal a part unprotected by armour, Redd's sword went into the guard's armpit, permanently stopping his swing. Redd then dislodged the sword from there and proceeded to cutting his throat.

As Redd dispatched his guards Quint was reigning himself in. The blood tasted both delicious and wretched at the same time, and he didn't want to look at what he had just done to the bandit. Another snarl was about to escape his lips, but he held it back, he could not let this continue, not now. Killing had sent him into a frenzy, but, with a great deal of effort, he was able to control the blood-lust, channelling it into a more controlled form of aggression. Quint stood slowly, ignoring the pain in his side. He saw the bandit in front of him, clearly terrified at what he had just seen, he had dropped his weapon and was now clutching a holy idol and rapidly praying. Quint retracted his claws and pulled the dagger from his side with a grunt, slowly walking towards the bandit. He spit the remaining blood from his mouth and raised the dagger. "Fuck your gods" he said, moments before plunging the dagger through the eye of the trembling, incoherent man.

After a few seconds of bleeding out, the dead guard laid at Redd's feet. One of his friends lost his temper and charged head first wanting to impale Redd on his sword. Redd narrowly evaded him by sidestepping then turned around to slice the back of the guard's neck. The guard wasn't nearly finished from that, he fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the stinging pain. He instinctively moved his hand to cover the wound, scrambling to regain his composure. Redd walked up close to him, grabbed his hand and with no discernible facial expression except indifference, plunged his shortsword straight into his neck, robbing the guard of his life. Redd removed the sword from the guard's body. As he did so, the sound of flesh being ravaged by steel was clearly audible, a horrible sound, but one that Redd was accustomed to. After all, this was his profession for the past years, there is no room for emotion in these situations, there is no time.

Redd looked around the room. All the guards were dead. He quickly left the battle trance he would often enter when time compressed. Regaining emotional awareness he looked at Quint's handiwork then moved his gaze to Quint himself. He was obviously hurt. But there was something wrong beyond that, Quint was a bit too excited, only now calming down. Perhaps he is the type that loses himself in battle, Redd wondered. 'It wouldn't be very surprising considering his... powers. It seems he managed to remain in control for now.'

"Damn, are you okay? That wound looks nasty. Let's see if there's anything we can make a bandage or something with..."

"No, it's nothing, I'll be--" Quint began before catching himself. "Sure, if you find anything that would be great." He wiped the blood from his mouth. Quint knew most of the others wouldn't like what he had done, but at least Redd seemed to understand to some extent.

Redd scrambled to find a suitable cloth, but the only thing usable were the tunics underneath the soldier's cuirasses. He started removing them and cutting the tunics into something that could be used as a bandage.

"Hold still." Redd began bandaging Quint along his torso, covering the back wound. "Damn it, I'm not a physician, but it should help a bit." Redd let out a short chuckle. "Hah, all these amazing powers and we don't even have one of those healers of myth..." Redd finished up on the bandaging. "There, done. We'll have to treat that wound properly sooner or later."

Garret staggered to his feet as he heard the last of the screams die down. Looking into the room, he had to catch himself from grimacing. Blood and gore where smeared everywhere. 'Guh... The sooner we get out of this hellhole, the better.'

"I stand corrected, Quint. I've never seen anybody move quite as fast as Redd." He tried to crack a smile, but he couldn't summon the energy. A pall of death and pain hung over his mind, and his recent visions had robbed him of the strength to block it out. 'I can't stay here much longer. I'm so... tired.'

He looked around. Quint, nursing a nasty-looking stab wound. Josslyn, cowering in the corner, terrified for her life. 'But I can't stop. No - I won't. These people need me.'

Taking in a deep breath and summoning what little strength he could muster, he cast his vision forward, and let out a sigh of relief at its contents. 'Finally, some good news.'

"If we keep moving, we can avoid the next patro...." His voice trailed off, his mind drifting off. Something was happening. A sensation he hadn't felt since... no. Oh, FUCK.


As he returned to his senses, he felt pain. His arms... did he still have them? Looking down, he saw he was lying down in the dirt, one of his arms missing, his legs shattered. A scream pierced the silence. Looking to he source, Garret recoiled in horror at the sight.

His scion comrades, all dead or dying. Laying in the dirt, missing limbs and hemorrhaging blood. All but Josslyn, who ran screaming, only to be pinned down by a group of armed guards. A command, silent yet booming, pierced the air.

Kill her.






Garret returned to the present with a start. He was on the floor... had he collapsed? Was he... was he crying?

'That doesn't matter now.' Gathering what remained of his courage, he forced himself to his feet, wiping the tears from his eyes. Now was not the time for such displays of weakness. 'I remember what the scrolls left behind by Seer Ilshara said. That if you can see the future, you can change it.'

Garret stood up as straight as his faltering strength would let him, fortifying himself with a breathing technique Master Shen had taught him, designed to fortify the body in the case of emotional duress. His comrades seemed to be showing concern, but he didn't care.

"I've seen the future." He said that in a tone of voice that surprised even him, confident and strong, despite his frail posture. "I've seen our deaths. All of us, dying horribly at the hand of some unknown power."

He couldn't help but laugh. He must sound like a lunatic to the rest of them, but he didn't care. "So, who feels like telling fate to go fuck itself?"

Rafiq's part in the fight had ended as soon as the explosions started. Judah and he stayed near the entrance to keep Amata, Garret and Josslyn from being picked off if a guard were to come their way.

Several moments of bloodshed later, the likes of which Rafiq hoped he would never have to take a greater part in, there were plenty of dead guards and weapons to go around. Rafiq took a blood-spattered sword and scabbard for his own. Having a weapon -any weapon- was better than relying on pebbles he picked up every few corridors. That said he also took metal fragments that had been shorn from the guards' armour and deposited them in a pocket.

And then Garret collapsed, drawn to unconsciousness by another confusing vision no doubt. And then he dragged himself back to a standing position, determination apparent. Whatever his vision had been, it didn't bode well. Garret right now was... there was no sugar-coating it, he was an absolute mess. Tears running freely down his face, standing confident as he'd ever been and then laughing over their horrific deaths at the hands of the unknown. Rafiq had thought Quint would be the first to go openly insane, but it seems that was a bet he'd lost. It might have been refreshing to have Garret full of energy had the subject been better.

"So, who feels like telling fate to go fuck itself?"

Fate had brought them together, so fate would be their undoing? They could defy what was already decided? Rafiq wasn't even sure if that sort of thing counted as fate, but he couldn't disagree with the intent. "Whether it's fate or not, I'm all for it. I don't much feel like dying yet." If it truly was fate, they would all die. If it were not fate, they could live yet. That was what fate was.

"But before fate and before all of these things that we might never see, we should get out of here. The war against fate comes later."

"I've seen the future. I've seen our deaths. All of us, dying horribly at the hand of some unknown power."

'That can't be right. They have no reason to kill me, or any other scion - yet.' These words greatly troubled Redd. Had despair finally overcome Garret or was he actually right? Redd couldn't tell, and his life was dancing on the sharp edge of this question. He always suspected that they might never let him go after completing this mission, but there was no alternative at the time, now there is. And then there is always the issue of the Duke. 'Dammit, I should of gone to Iyou and lived there for the rest of my life'. But that was not an option anymore.

"So, who feels like telling fate to go fuck itself?"

'If only it were that simple. Fate is illusory, but our decisions are very real. Mine unfortunately have walled me in.'

Redd quickly realized. 'All these thoughts are meaningless. We need to concentrate.' There was no use in lamenting over the past or cursing their odds. Rafiq was right to encourage expediency.

"If your visions are true, Garret, then we have nothing to lose by trying, if they are false, we have everything to lose by loitering. Let's not tarry and we may be able to evade the reaper." Redd paused and collected his thoughts. "Let's head to the armory."

Garrett had fallen to the ground without a sound. He didn't seem to have any signs of injury. There was the possibility that he'd been so shocked by the bloodshed unleashed by Redd and Quint that he had fainted, as Judah had almost done. Telling Josslyn to wait a second while he checked on him. he sidled over. As he nudged him gently with his foot, a bit of mud rubbed off his boot onto Garret's clothes. There was no reaction as far as Judah could tell. He leaned down and put his hand over Garret's mouth, and was relieved to feel him breathing.

Suddenly Garrett jumped up and Judah feel flat on his behind with shock. Garret's face was obscured from his current level but he could see the reflection of a few tear trails slowly making their way down his face. What? Why's he crying? What happened? Judah thought, before Garrett told of what he saw, a vision of their demise. Judah was filled with a great dread, knotting itself around his heart a belly. It was heavy and brought fear with it, which he tried not to let show in case Josslyn was watching. Remembering her and how terrified she must be, he quickly made his way over to her, shrouded him in his cloak again, and turned to watch Garrett in case of more.

So,who feels like telling fate to go fuck itself?

These words stunned Judah. Was it possible? wasn't fate Loae's selected path? Surely denying him was a foolish, perhaps suicidal thing to do? then Judah realized the stupidity of that thought, which was emphasized by the next set of inspirational words, this time spoken by Redd.

"If your visions are true, Garret, then we have nothing to lose by trying, if they are false, we have everything to lose by loitering. Let's not tarry and we may be able to evade the reaper."

Redd was, of course, right. If fate was Loae's ultimate design, then there was no hope. But if it wasn't, then they could still survive. They could deny The All Devourer, and they would only truly find if they could not by they attempted. Judah was stirred, filled with confidence, dread purged from his being.

"Let's head to the armory."

Yes this also seemed like a good idea. However Judah was not stirred enough to forget his charge, and so prepared himself to go but turned to her. He wasn't sure what her current emotional state was, but stopped enshrouding her. He took a business like tone and serious face.

"Will you be okay if I go retrieve arms and armor from the armory, Josslyn?" Judah said quietly.

Quint watched the others talking. He understood what they were saying, but he didn't very much care. Since the moment he had sheathed his claws, just before burying a dagger in some poor bandit's skull, he had felt different somehow. When he was being consumed by the rush of combat everything was crisp and clear, but when he forced himself back into his own mind, when he chose logic over primal fury (something he had never been able to do before) something changed.

At first he was unable to put his finger on what he was feeling as it was something he had not experienced for quite some time. When it finally came to him, Quint felt a knot form in his stomach.

He was cold.

'Oh shit.' Quint had no idea what was happening to him, but he had a feeling it wasn't good. He looked down at his wound, but even as bad as it looked, he knew that wasn't the cause. This was something that went much deeper. Whatever was happening, he would have to investigate later, he and the others had to get out of this place. The general consensus among the other scions seemed to be that the armory was the next stop, which made sense enough, so Quint kept his mouth shut, his head down and followed along.

"Will you be okay if I go retrieve arms and armor from the armory, Josslyn?"

"Sorry, but we don't have time for pleasantries. She'll be fine. Now let's go already. Follow me."

Redd took lead, moving carefully but briskly towards the armory. As they ascended the sounds of battle from outside were increasingly strong. There were no guards posted at the armory, most of them had probably rushed outside to meet the invaders. The group entered the armory. It was stocked with a large variety of conventional weapons and armor.

"Arm yourself, quickly. We do not have time to put any armor on."


Meanwhile inside the castle courtyard.

The defenders were slowly starting to assemble and offer a buffer of cannon fodders between the captain's men and the prison they were trying to reach. Suffering hefty loses from archer fire and melee the attackers were slowly advancing into the castle. In the middle of the intense battle the defenders suddenly fell back into the confines of the castle. A single man emerged out of one of the barracks.

Gigantic, muscular, wearing a simple tunic and bracers. He faced all of the attackers alone and unarmed.

The invaders wasted no time and converged upon the defiant giant. He was simultaneously run through by several soldiers puncturing organs and rending flesh. The gigantic fighter slumped against the weapons that impaled him, appearing dead before suddenly grabbing the neck of one of the nearby soldiers. As he choked the soldier he appeared to regain his strength and vitality while the soldier slowly but surely transformed into a hollow husk of what he was. The other soldiers tried twisting their weapons to deter the giant, but to no avail. He started delivering bone shattering punches straight through iron helmets and plate before selecting a new victim to drain. With amazing speed he dashed from soldier to soldier delivering killing blows.

The captain realized from the moment he saw the herculean fighter that he believed he was able to defeat all of the invaders. He now saw that the fighter was no simple mad man or overconfident. Weapons seemed to have no effect on him. The fighter had killed in less than a minute tens of men, almost as much as the rest of the fighting. The captain immediately order the retreat of his forces.

The lieutenant however would not agree. "He's just one bloody man, I'll kill him myself!". Still high from the previous fighting, the lieutenant charged forward, sword in the air, in an attempt to cut down the insanely strong fighter. The fighter raised his forearm to block the sword with his bracer then used his free hand to grab the lieutenant by the throat and choke hold him in the air. The lieutenant was about to draw his last breaths. As his vision became dim he started losing sight of the giant and consciousness. Suddenly the grip loosened and the lieutenant feel to the ground. Before the lieutenant could realize what happened he was dragged a few dozen meters away from the giant. The captain had saved him. He had severed the giant's hand from his body with a single well placed swing from horseback then turned around and grabbed the lieutenant and dragged him through the dirt away from the fight. "Now fall back, you fools!"

The gigantic fighter walked up to his hand, picked it up and then held it against his forearm for several seconds. Miraculously it was reattached but not usable. The fighter dashed towards the retreated soldiers killing what he could before they retreated. He slowly regained motor control over his hand.

In less than a minute, the entire courtyard was emptied, leaving only the fighter, the dying and the dead. The fighter took a deep breath reveling in the scenery. The sounds of battle raged no more.

'Well, that vision was... interesting.'

Garret finished wiping the last of his tears from his face. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep the pace steady, and my heartbeat will follow. Keeping the heart under control was, in his experience, the best way to steady roiling emotions. This was one of the first things Master Shen had taught him when he joined the monastery, frightened and alone.

Unfortunately for Garret, his heart scarcely listened. Though subdued for earlier, it still pounded in his chest, refusing to calm with his mind. 'There's still so much death and suffering in this place. I won't be able to rest until I leave this shithole.'

"Arm yourselves, quickly. We don't have any time to put any armor on."

Garret looked down to his robes and grimaced. They where still stained with blood and gore, and smelled just as bad as they looked. 'No way I'll be able to sneak by in these.' He looked about and spotted a brown leather cloak, with a satchel strapped to the side. 'Perfect. Light and practical.' He removed his soiled robes and slung on the cloak, careful to keep it from brushing against his stained clothing.

He motioned to leave but hesitated, his eyes landing on a quarterstaff at his side. 'Master Shen once told me the staff was the only weapon of a civilized man. A tool not meant only for death and destruction...' He reached out and took it. Its balance was a bit off, but it would do. He could hardly go out into a warzone with just his bare fists. Not with the lives of children on the line.

"I'm ready. We should leave promptly."

Quint had no need of a weapon and little experience with one, but he still took a brief look at the items on display. Outside, the sounds of battle had fallen silent, and that made him more nervous than the chill he had felt earlier (which had now passed). Seeing nothing he wanted, he turned his attention to what lay ahead.

There was the smell of death, and a great deal of it at that, much stronger than the scent that clung to his clothing. Quint had watched many battles from a distance (hiding just out of sight, waiting to loot the dead), so it struck him as odd that the battle seemed to have gone from raging combat to silence in a matter of minutes. A surrender seemed to be the only explanation, which meant bad things for everyone in the armory. If the fighting was over, one side or the other would soon be right on top of the scions, and knowing so little about his 'saviors', Quint was not ready to put himself into their hands just yet.

He looked to the other scions, most of whom were still choosing weapons for themselves. "We need to leave now, someone will be coming for us soon and I don't plan on being here when they do."

He realized that leaving through the courtyard would lead them straight into the hands of whoever had won the battle. There had to be another way. 'Abyss, it's got to be the plant girl hasn't it.' Quint looked at Josslyn and sighed. "Look, you need to break down some walls for us so we can avoid whatever is waiting in the courtyard. Don't argue, just do it, our only other option is cutting through a wall of people, and nobody wants that." Quint knew he could have been a little more cordial, but that had never been his strong point, and right now time was of the essence.

The journey to the armoury was without further incident, which made Rafiq somewhat uneasy. He had not expected much resistance but this little meant that the fight outside was taking all of the manpower of their captors. Steering well clear of the area was very much the only option for them, but the sounds of battle were growing louder and louder as they approached the armoury. The armoury itself was unpopulated, thankfully.

"Arm yourselves, quickly. We don't have any time to put any armor on."

The group quickly split up to fetch weaponry and basic armour for themselves, with Rafiq grabbing a slightly-too-large metal helmet and a quiver filled with arrows. The sword he had taken from one of the unfortunate guards remained unbloodied so he saw no reason to get a new one.

As they searched the battle outside grew quiet, leaving several of them worried. Rafiq doubted that this sudden silence meant anything good for them. "We need to leave now, someone will be coming for us soon and I don't plan on being here when they do."

It looked like Quint had drawn the same sort of conclusion and then gone straight to ordering Josslyn about. While he seemed to have gotten over whatever had been eating at him earlier his method of dealing with the girl was leaving much to be desired. "Perhaps you should give her some room to breathe before asking her to save our lives. She might appreciate it."

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