Sacralige prolouge Ch 1 Ch 2 begin.

PROLOUGE

'Pit-pat pit-pat pit-pat' bare feet ran across the wet dirt road. Blood trailed down her legs. Her deap wheezing drowned out the sound of the galloping hooves and her heartbeat drowned out the sound of heavy rain. She could see the gates now, and the field beyond, she could see the rider, her, "knight in shining armor" and she was filled with hope and excitement for herself, and the newborn child in her arms.

Heads poked from the windows of their huts smoke billowed from their rooftops. Children who were playing in the road immediately cleared and hid behind their mothers.

She heard voices behind her. She turned her head and saw two men on horseback, a bald man in shining silver armor, and a man in black armor with the same jet-black color hair down to his shoulders; they were chasing her. She was almost there, a few more feet and she would be free, her child would live.

She reached the white horse and she handed the child to and old women on the steed. She struggled to climb up but all her strength had left her, the pursuers were now closing and she could have heard them word for word if she wanted to. The old women now began pulling the girl up with all her strength leaning to the right, trying to use her weight as well. The old lady heard a whistle and suddenly felt a tug at her arm. She looked at the young girl, and found her staring sympathetically at her child smiling, tears in her deep blue eyes, no longer trying to reach the seat behind the women. The women saw why she was acting so, a protrusions hanging from her back; an arrow. The old women desperately struggled to pull her up, but to no avail.

"Save him, Mother, go. Please!" The woman kissed her daughter. She then kicked her horse, riding west, towards the mountains. The horse moved and no longer propped the young girl up, she quickly fell to her knees. She closed her eyes for what felt like a second and when she opened them the bald soldier was holding her in his arms.

"I am sorry, it wasn't supposed to be like this," He began to cry," I am sorry, so sorry my love. Your father will know of your pain, as well as mine." She touched his cheek as a final goodbye and closed her eyes. She was free from this world.


1
A harsh breeze blew across the mountain range. It supported no life except for a few grass blades here and there that would be slowly strangled by the winter months. But in this desolate place, amidst the rock and ice lay a single door. Opening this door would reveal catacombs burrowing deep beneath the stone. Here resided the cult of Ocul and there prisoners.

The cults leader was a large man who could easily be mistaken as overweight. He commands great respects and is never taken lightly. He sat in his lamp-lit room reviewing member assignments, marking changes as he went. a knock came to his open door.

"What do you need; I can assure you that I am very busy." He continued his work not letting the knock, or the man standing at the door, disturb him.

"Yes sir, I am very sorry, but we've finished our review of the prisoners and one of the prisoners has found something." He said trying his best not to offend the short-tempered man.

"Which one is it?" The leader still continued his work his quill never hesitating. The member rubbed the back of his head.

"th-three-one-seven.. Sir." The quill snapped in the man's hand. The leader stood. Three-one-seven had been here since childhood, an insubordinate ruffian. He never spoke a word to the leader and that was a hefty insult, he despised three-one-seven, they despised each other but for good reason.

"Bring me to him at once." he stood, a brick red cloak draped over his body. A shaggy beard fell from his chin. The member pulled a torch off the wall and led him down the corridor. Further down the catacombs wound around and through the mountain seeming to never end.

They stopped in front of the door. "Thank you child. I will see that you are rewarded for your loyalty. Now I have reassigned your position, you will help guard the supply room. Now, hurry to your post." As the man ran off the leader turned the key lifted the latch and pushed the door handle revealing a surprisingly large room.

The revealed room seemed to be to a cell but in fact a library. Books lined the wall if the room, anything imaginable, chemistry, fighting styles, weapon techniques, Theories of creation, studies of the stars and the planets, and anything else you could think to study. In the center of the room lay a desk, and on that desk lay a set of chemicals beakers tubes etc. and an open book being quickly scribbled in. A man sat on a stool at that desk. He wore a large black trench coat, black buckled boots and pair of black cow hide gloves. His long blonde hair fell down past his shoulders and was tied in a tail.

"Three-one-seven, I have come to review your studies, if you wouldn't mind me asking," Nothing. "I am a very busy man and your idling doesn't help matters." His temper was about to break when the man said something.

"Why did you not send one of your lackeys here to address me if you were indeed so pressed for time." He did not turn around to acknowledge the leaders presence. and this even more infuriated him.

"When a member uncovers something it is my duty to address it myself, I hurried down here after I was told only moments ago." The man finally turned around.

"And since when was a member held in a cell for twenty odd years." He was pale no doubt from the lack of sunlight." And I seem to remember me as a child being beaten by your men, and for what, oh yes, resisting a molestation. And after my pleading with you over what had happening you dared to scold me?" He stood from his chair and walked to a shelf pulled a book down and ruffled through the pages till he found what he was looking for. "pfft! member indeed."

"Very well three-one-seven if that is how you wish it, I will be back at the top of the hour, I will discover you findings and if something might happen to you during...well, it is out of my hands."

"I will be here my schedule is nearly empty." he waved the leader out and sat at his stool.

"It will pain me to see anything happen to you it will also to the same to you." as the leader turned to leave three-one-seven leapt from his seat and violently turned the leader back around and stuck his pale finger in his face.
"Do not lecture me of pain you have no idea what she is. She has become a being in my life. It will be a cold day in hell when you can compare you pain to mine. Now go. Bring your flunkies here to destroy my hell, I'll be waiting with open arms, but don't you think that you will leave unscathed." the leaders Eyebrows rose.

"Are you threatening me?" there was a chuckle in his speech.

"indeed I am." three-one-seven backed the leader past the door and slammed it shut.

While the leader strode down the hall he heard a faint voice.

"I'll be waiting!"

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Three-one-seven sat in his cell, his stomach ached with anticipation. as the hour slowly came to an end, he dreamt about what he had never seen… what he had never felt... friendship, love, romance. thinking brought about a rage deep inside.

" I will not be pushed aside, while these behemoths destroy those smaller, less fortunate. If I die today I will take him with me," he rung his hands," as God as my witness this will end, one way or another." he grabbed his stool and laid it down, he brought his foot down on top of it and broke a leg off then another, the second screamed with a loud 'snap' and sent splinters flying across the room. He then hurried across the room. To a set of books he opened one and took a rigid piece of metal that he used to mix his chemicals, he then reached further back. Back behind the shelf and pulled out a single tube, filled with a metallic blue liquid. "If they want it, they will have it."

He sat down on his poor excuse for a bed made of hay and a large stained sheet. He then proceeded to sharpen the stool legs with the rigid piece off metal he assumed he had one-half of an hour to sharpen the edges of the legs.

Twenty-five minutes had passed when a knock came to the door, three-one-seven had barely enough time to sharpen one leg and not very well at that the second one lay at his feet still splintered at the end. it will have to do.

Three-one-seven heard a latch and the door swung open, the didn't immediately see him he was in the corner of the room on the left side. There were three of them including the leader, big burly men with baldheads. They wore there cult garb, the brick red pants and shirt.

"Look through everything, there is something here we must find it." they proceeded to tear through the books and shelves. The leader looked over to three-one-seven. "When your finished men, see that the prisoner gets taken care of."

"Yes Sir." came two deep voices. Three-one-seven rage was in full swing he rose from his bed with the blue chemical in one hand and the splintered stool leg held firmly in the other.

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"When your finished men, see that the prisoner gets taken care of." the leader stood two feet inside the door arm crossed.

"Yes Sir." Both men said loudly. He thought to himself how easy this will be, three-one-seven has shown to be a bark and no bite, well, he will regret his actions, and his words. The leader failed to hear the sound of footsteps behind him but he didn't fail to feel the pain inside, something large had entered the side of his abdomen. He dropped to his knees, turning his head to see the face of death. Three-one-seven stood behind him twisting the leg deeper inside, He smirked at the leader and whispered in his ear.

"It indeed has pained you, but not I."
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Three-one-seven bit his lip and with as much strength as possible shove the leg as deep as he could possibly make it go. The leader was unaware of his scream, but his men turned. Three-one-seven dove for the other stool leg, but he wasn't quick enough with the other leg in hand one of the men had him tightly around the neck, and lifted him off the ground. Three-one-seven desperately swung the leg one choked the life from him and the other pummeled him with blows to the chest and stomach. But there was one blow harder then all the others that caused three-one-seven's hands to open and there contents to fly free. The leg bounced of the shelves and clattered to the ground the chemical hit the ground and shattered on the wooden floor. His vision became blurry and his hearing began to fail. But before he lost consciousness’ his cell began to quake.

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The cell erupted in quakes as three-one-seven lost consciousness in the guards hands he almost lost his balance they were so strong, when he regained his footing he dropped the prisoner and ran to his leader, he examined his wound and closed his eyes for him, the prisoner would die a long and gruesome death. He rose and began to walk towards the prisoner when the rumbling happened again, but this time it was different, he heard a pawing under his feet, and he bent down to listen. Quite, nothing he began to rise, as he did the floor beneath him erupted sending splinters deep into his face, and a skinny hand was holding him tightly around the neck.

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The guard watched as his close friend was attacked by an unknown assailant. He backed himself up against the wall as far as he could go and tried even farther. The limb around his friend’s neck began to lengthen and take the form. A creature pulled itself up out of the soil. He heard a snap and it was as if his friend’s body floated to the ground the creature turned to face him. It was a skeleton. Covered in rusted armor, a scimitar sheathed at his side.
The guard looked up, directly into the eyes of the beast. Almost immediately the man got on his knees and began to pray, but not to the God he had swore his life to. He repeatedly mouthed the words 'Jah' and 'Jehovah' revealing were his true beliefs lie. The beast picked the man up by the shirt and brought his mouth to the man’s ear.

"You've turned your back on the one you pray to, and because of that... He's has done the same to you." It was a deep voice that couldn't be ignored and it roused three-one-seven. The beast threw the man, he hit the ground and slid against the floor, out the door and slamming the back of his head against the adjacent wall. The beast then turned his gaze to three-one-seven.

Three-one-seven began backing himself up against the wall doing his best to plead with the beast without loosing a shred of dignity.

"I do not know or could I understand the grudge between you and this cult, but I am no part of them nor do I cooperate with them I ask you to spare my life. But if you are of the killing sort I then ask you to make it quick." The beast approached the man, three-one-seven awaited his demise, he shut his eyes, but nothing happened, when he opened them a helping hand was held out. Three-one-seven took it and pulled himself off the ground, taking a few moments to dust off. "Why do you help me?"

"I am now deeply indebted to you, I am a child of your hate, the spawn of your rage. For this second chance at life, I thank you." the creature bowed and escorted three-one-seven out of the cell.

"But before we go, take that man in the hall way and bring him in here. If we can we get out of here without the confrontation." The beast picked him up and threw him through he open doorway, shut it and latched it shut.

They began to navigate through the catacombs passes hundreds of individual cells. They heard a commotion in one of them and peered through the barred opening. A man paced back and forth in his cell. muttering to himself, slapping himself in the forehead and shaking his head. A paper hung next to his door -Dispose of-. The continued down the hallway till the heard footsteps, the stopped at the corner and peeked around it, two men, one standing at the door, the other patrolling around it.

"Store room duty ‘psht’. what did I do to deserve this?" the patrolling guard said to himself. Storeroom, three-one-seven thought, Supplies and maybe even a descent weapon. He turned to his knew friend.

"We need to get in that room. Get their attention somehow."

"Very well, my lord." He drew his scimitar. Three-one-seven spoke again.

"I am not a God nor a King so indeed I cannot be a lord please do not call me that."

"Yes, sir." Three-one-seven didn't like that name either but now wasn't the time. They had other plans to take care of. The beast slammed his scimitar into the wall, chunks of brick moss and vines clattered to the blood stained ground. The guard and the door heard this only him, And he began walking toward the sound. Three-one-seven, weaponless stepped behind the beast.

"Do what you must." The guard came closer equipped with a spear at the ready and only a skullcap to protect him. The beast raised his sword. At the slightest hint that the guard was there the beast brought down his sword, He cut the spear in half and swung his sword again. The guard looked up at him but could not scream. He was muted by the horror of the beast even with the excruciating pain reverberating through his body. The beast sword had found a resting place in his abdomen. The man soon passed. Three-one-seven and the beast hid the body from view. Soon the patrolling guard thudded around the corner.

"William? William where are you?" He was searching for the guard, "That’s like him, leaving me here by my lonesome, he probably stuffing his fat face." The patroller walked to the edge of the hall, the beast waiting around the corner. He stopped there but turned around.
After taking a few steps the beast began to follow behind quietly. With his left hand he grabbed the patroller around the mouth and made a quick slice with his right red mist sprayed from his neck and life drained from his body.

They dragged the bodies to the door. Three-one-seven shuffled his hand around in the guard’s pocket and found a key with "storage" carved on the side. He inserted the key and unlocked the door. They pulled the bodies inside and propped them in the corner then shut and locked the door behind them. It was a small room, useless items and knick-knacks strewn around.
Their backs to the door the examined the room to the right a tapestry depicting their God covered the wall, to the right barrels of food and equipment in front spare robes and ceremonial masks.

"Take what you can, we must leave this place." three-one-seven said while grabbing a cloth bag and filling it to the brim with food. The creature stepped toward the robe and pulled one down, and let it slide over his body it fell to his feet barely covering his boots. While it was examining the masks three-one-seven walked to the tapestry the horror of a God was shown towering over a village, the homes ablaze and the follower of the God surrounded him bowing kissing his feet, some other follows murdering and pillaging...unspeakable. He felt it it was rough, rigid, bumpy. But it wasn't the tapestry.
He walked to an end and tightly wrapped his hands around one side. He tugged and it dropped. Behind the tapestry, enough weaponry to arm a company of soldiers.

"Very nice." three-one-seven whispered to himself then out loud "See anything you like?" The beast turned around and awed at the variety. It approached the weapons and without hesitation grabbed a pair of sickles; he then proceeded to toss away his rusted, rigid scimitar and hooked his new weapons at his sides. "As for me..." Three-one-seven continuously ran his eyes across the display until he found what he was looking for. Three-one-seven did not know different weapons names except for the basic swords, axes, spears, knives etc. He couldn't say what they were but the were beautiful, he reached towards the top left corner and lifted them off the stand. There were two of them. the blade looked much like a scimitar but the back side curved and resembled a small axe, from the bottom of the axe’s blade it curved up forming a circle about six inches in diameter before connecting back to the hilt. "Beautiful…" He grabbed a sheath that he spread out across his back, he then examined the swords, it showed a picture of that God with these very swords piercing his heart. He sheathed them with a cross of the blades. He rushed to grab the bag of food and supplies but was stopped by the beast.

"I will carry it, I will be more cape able during a fight then you would be."

"Thank you friend, let us be on our way." As he spoke these words a clatter sounded outside, and a loud crash, the wood split, an axe was forging a path through the locked door.

“You would be wise to open this door, if you do your deaths shall be swift!” They were coming through there as no avoiding them.

“Make yourself ready friend we do not have the element of surprise now.” They dropped their supplies and reached for the weapons. The skeleton moved behind the door out of sight. Three-one-seven stood ready for anything. “I would like Death to try and claim me.” He spun his weapons in his hands and prepared himself.

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With a few strong kicks the front man of the guards kicked his way into the room, he stepped inside but as soon as he did a hand reached out to receive him It grabbed him by the face and he disappeared behind the door they guards could not see him until his body hit the floor and his blood spattered face stared back at them. They stepped back but soon recovered. A guard peeked through the barred window and grunted in pain, the hole that he made from his mighty axe was now used to destroy him, he pulled himself of the blade and his hands immediately fell down to his stomach trying to lessen the pain. He fell
Over as the door that they had forced open closed shut once again. They guards had no idea what had just happened they did not know what to do they had no idea what the hell was going on. One reached for the handle of the door, and it seemed as if it exploded in his hand.

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After killing the second guard the beast slowly closed the door.

“I guess it would be easier to scare them to death. Ha ha” Three-one-seven chuckled as the beast walked to the back wall and turned around facing the door. It ran at a full sprint toward the door and kicked it in. The door shattered like glass. Three-one-seven could barely make out the three guards shielding themselves from the splinters and stakes. The beast ran into the raining wood and swung his blade decapitating one guard and spinning around to slice through another guards abdomen.
A third guard ran for his life down the corridor.

“It would have been a bit more hospitable to save me at least one.” Three-one-seven said jokingly. The beast pointed his sword down the corridor, and three-one-seven peaked around the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of a figure turn a corner.

“I do not believe in killing unless defending oneself, so we let him go, but, he might still lead us to an exit come, before we lose him.” They quickly followed the guard’s trail. Their worry of losing the guard quickly diminished when the found a trail of some kind of liquid, blood was quickly ruled out.

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The guard couldn’t think strait he couldn’t believe what he saw. He still didn’t believe. But the horrors of his cult brother’s death and the urine dripping from his soaked pants debated his thinking. All he thought about was getting away, getting out. His life was more important then his cult.

“Death for your brothers and your God is rewarded with eternal happiness along side them?” He said, it was the last verse in the prayer they recited every morning, noon, and night, He was beginning to question it. He repeated it again “Death for your brothers and your God is rewarded with eternal happiness along side them?” He didn’t know what to do. Short of breath he stopped to quay his panting while repeating the verse again. “Death for your brothers and your God is rewarded with eternal happiness along side them.” But this time he didn’t question it. He embraced it. Resting against the door of a cell he drew his sword. He saw and heard nothing. “Death for your brothers and your God is rewarded with eternal happiness along side them.” He examined his sword. Suddenly his sword fell from his hands and he immediately reached for the arm cutting of his supply of air. The prisoner inside the cell had one arm comfortably dangling outside the bars while he tried to strangle the man with the other. Without his panting breath he could better hear his surroundings. He heard footsteps down the hall from where he came. But the burly prisoner wasn’t about to let go. The guard pulled forward causing the prisoner head to slam against the door, in return the prisoner wrapped his other arm around his neck. His time had come. He began to recite the very prayer that made him stop and think, and would result in his death.

‘The holiest, who resides with and within, be gracious with my passing. Let those holy accept me, if that be your will, Let those evil condemn me if that be your wish. My brothers and my church are my companions here and now, and then and there. In this life I have worshipped you, in the next I am devoted to you. Your will is done with me in this place.
My brothers be my guide in the next.’ He paused being short of breath his brain was throbbing. ‘Death for your… brothers… and your God is… rewarded with… eternal… happiness… along… side… them...’

Three-one-seven rounded the corner in a sprint touching the side of the wall bringing down chips of decaying brick. But he stopped in mid stride when he looked up from the trail. The fleeing guard stood against a door. Grasping at a pair of massive arms. His face was purple and his eyes were on the verge of popping out of his head. He was fading from consciousness, his arms fell and his head drooped. Three-one-seven rushed toward him and busted open the lock to the door with the hilt of his weapon. The prisoner immediately let go and backed away. The guard gasped for air and color returned to his face. He looked up. The beast stared back down at him. He was immediately on his feet clambering to get away but was pulled back by his collar. Three-one-seven walked out of the cell, the prisoner in his arm and a blade to his throat.

“You want to kill him?” Three-one-seven asked the prisoner but didn’t wait for a reply, “Then be a man about it, do it when he can defend himself.” The guard’s eyes darted back and forth and the beast release the grip on his collar. Three-one-seven looked at the guard.

“This prisoner seems to have a problem with you. I do not know why and I do not care. It is for you two to work out your differences. Are you prepared to fight?” The guard nodded. They proceeded to lead the prisoner and guard into the cell, The wooden planks under their feet yawned as they were awakened by the commotion, their was a bed and pan in opposite corners of the room and a bench and equipment for exercising in the middle of the room.

“Watch them.” Three-one-seven said to the beast. It took the prisoner from him and held him next to the prisoner. Three-one seven proceeded to push the equipment in the middle of the room against the wall out of the way. When all was clear he walked to the guard and stripped away his robe, and pulled the small dagger bulging from his boot. He walked to the middle of the room, and flung the dagger into the wood planks it stuck, hilt facing up. He pulled the guard from the beast and took him to the opposite side.
“When we leave this room, what happens is up to you.” They moved slowly towards the door and shut it. They saw the exit and as soon as the began there journey to freedom they heard the grapples and yells coming from the cell.

They opened the door and stepped into the snow Then shut it behind them.

“Well, I did not think I would find a friend this early in my journey, not to say that is unwelcome. Forgive me for not introducing myself.” Three-one-seven reached out his hand, “Richard Stetson.” The beast accepted it.

“James Erne.” The beast replied. Richard felt queasy as he grasped the hand of bone, but it could not be read on his face.

“Nice to meet you James.” James gave a slow nod and released Richard’s hand.

Richard stood on the mountain top warming himself in the sun and shivering from the cold.

2

The farmlands of Tobre. A .Wheat fields trailed two miles in every direction from the center; the barbarain village assuming the same name. A year ago this place was the place of dreams. Running through the feilds playing games with family and friends, lounging in the tall grass, praying that no one finds you to bring you back to reality. Now it is very, very different. The neighboring kingdom frequently burns the fields as a result the stretch to less then a half a mile. The village is subjected to raids weekly. Outside the fields and even inside them, there are constant skirmishes between the black hand soldiers of the the kingdom and the people village. Xain Grillo assumed a crouched position in the wheat field in the ouskirts of the village.

"How do you know they are coming?" Christopher Sante sat at the right side of Xain.

Christopher and Xain were both generals for the villages army. Christopher was about fifty years old. His long grey hair fell bellow his shoulders and his moustache drooped below his chin.

"They will come, they take the same path from the north-east section of the fields; Every single time." Xain, the younger of the two, could not be more then thirty, but commanded the respect of a village elder. A muscular man, he gained it by tending the fields before being forced to create and join an army.

"And why haven't we caught this before?"

"The soldiers have grown lazy, they don't look for the raiders because they would rather loose everything they hold dearest then die protecting them." Xain looked at Christopher and made out his face in the night, "Including their wives and children."

"Shh.. I hear someone." A rustling came from there left, And a mans cackle. Xain gripped his axe tightly, It was dear to him, not for the the death it has braught but the lifes it has saved. He planted with it, grew his food with it and fed his daughter and family with it not including the hundreds of villagers that were part of his family. The Axe he held in his hands a year ago was his plow. That which help bring about life now stole it. Christopher on the other hand stil used his farm tool that was given to him by his father, the Sante family scythe.

"Quite down we are coming up on the village." The black hand soldiers came so close that Xain could smell there odor.

Xain and Christopher let the men pass by them and followed; begining the pursuit. They did not go far before Xain made his first move. He targeted a straggler in the back of the group of seven, obviously drunk he stumbled back and forth. Xain crept up behind him. Placing one hand around his mouth and the other around his neck, Xain pulled him further away from the group and pulled him to the ground. He brought his axe forth and with the hilt quitly knocked the man uncontious.

"Where is Geed now?" One soldier whispered to another.
"The drunk probably wondered off again. Forget him." A man approached, obviously the leader of the group.
"You two," addressing the two whisperers,"find him, now." They immediatly scurried off into the direction they came from. In less them a minute the stumbled across the uncontious Geed.
"Well what do you know, sleeping like a bab-" His sentence was cut short by a blow to the head. The second soldier turned around, and recieved the same blow. When he fell to the ground his nose began to bleed. Christopher had a worried look on his face.
"I think killed him."
"Two is good enough anyway, take them back to the village."
"What are you going to do?"
"Take care of the rest." Xain traveled in the direction if the raiders and Christopher piled the uncontious soldiers on top a horse hidden behind a large tree and traveled the long way to the village.

Xain quickly caught up with the raiders, He thought hard about what to do. He could easily get rid of two right off. That would only leave two more.

"A-are you sure we should be attempting another raid? I mean we have done this dozens of times, They are bound to catch on." Xain listened intently as the insecure soldier spoke to the leader of the party.

"Listen to me and listen well." The man stuck and long finger in the frightened soldiers face. "This is what we have been ordered to do, if you do not like it take it up with General Fink, I am sure he will be happy to see that things go your way." The soldier shrunk back and quitly spoke again.

"But sir, I did not join the king's army to become a thief." The soldier grew bolder.

"Look here boy! Do you think I joined to take useless trinkits from a horde of barbarian scum who cannot tell the difference between a stick and a sword? I joined for riches, glory and women. I did not join to be stuck here with you in some...some God forsaken pit of filth and disease. We are waisting time let us be on our way." The leader picked up his supplies and continued the trek.

"What about the others." A third soldier said.

"They have been given enough time. They can meet us back at camp." He kept walking.

"Is four enough people?" The leader once more turned around.

"Is seven enough people? Just do as your told and we will be fine." The soldiers did not now it but they were about to begin a deadly game of follow the leader.

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Christopher rode quickly to the village and dismounted from his horse.

"Rebecca. Rebecca!" He shouted he screams could be heard across the village.

"What is it old man!" She shuddered when seeing the uncontious men."Who are they?"

"Members of the raiding party. Help me bring them inside." He started lifting and and Rebecca struggled to help, she was about the same age, this is given away by her grey hair and wrinkled skin.
"Where is Xain did you leave him alone?"

"He will be fine if anyone can take care of himself it is Xain." Christopher and Rebecca lifted the men; one at a time, into a cabin that was located fifty yards from the actual village the locked and latched the door.
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Xain crept silently in the brush keeping close to the soldiers. His legs were beginning to feel tired from crouching when a soldier broke off from the rest.

"Where are you going?!" A second soldier asked.

"I must relieve myself, would you like to watch."

"Hurry or you will fall behind." The second soldier ran quickly to catch up with the other two

Xain crept slowly behind the man urinating in the dirt, the smell choked the air. He securely clasped his hands around his axe. Before the man managed to raise up his pants Xain had his arm around his throat. He launched the man to the ground face in the dirt before the soldier discerned what was going on. Xain had guided his axe to his neck. Xain sprinted to catch up to that second soldier before met up with the leader. He did not have to go far before he ran into him, the other two were about one hundred feet ahead.

"Finnaly you showed up when was the last time you pissed." The soldier turned around to see Xain standing there. Before the man could speak Xain put a throwing axe in the man's throat cutting off his speach, cutting off his air. Xain quickly ran to the man and gave him a blow to the head ending his agony.