D
Dying
Guest
Rescue in the Dark
By Drew
Menolly sat on her blanket, staring into the flickering embers of the camp fire. She was bored. It was her turn on camp duty, and she was bored. While others went out on patrol, it was her job to assist in the maintenance and security of the Merchants base camp. She placed her spare drum on her blanket. She had been treating the drum skin with a light mineral oil to preserve it. She tore her glance away from the flames to look at her mother, who was fast asleep under her blanket. Silk coughed lightly and rolled over. Menolly looked back at the flames.
A tingling sensation in her nose made her sniff. A tiny stream of red and green bubbles wafted out of her nostrils. She stood up in alarm, rubbing her nose vigorously. The bubbles stopped. She looked around the camp, but no one was paying attention. Soldiers played dice around a fire on the other side of the camp, nearby a cleric sat in prayer. The rest of the soldiers manned the barricade near the down ramp. Did she imagine it? She sat down again.
The tingling sensation in her nose returned, much stronger this time. She sneezed loudly, and a cloud of multi coloured bubbles erupted from her mouth and nose. The Cleric laughed infectiously. Menolly drew her blade and levelled it at the cleric as she advanced on him.
‘It was you’ she accused.
‘Yes sister, it was I’ he replied between chuckles.
‘What kind of a cleric are you?’ she asked, her weapon now inches from his face.
‘One with a sense of humour’ he said, his eyes going cross eyed as he watched the point of her blade approach his nose.
‘Are you a minstrel with a sense of humour?’ he asked, smiling broadly as he looked up at her.
She held a stern expression for a few seconds, but it gave way to an impish grin.
‘Yeah, I guess I am’ she smiled as she put the blade away. ‘Who are you?’
The cleric stood up and bowed exuberantly.
‘Darion Darkwing, at your service young Minstrel’.
‘Menolly Serenely, at yours’ she said, bowing gracefully in return.
‘Delighted’ he smiled.
‘What was that you did to me?’ she inquired.
‘Ooh, nothing really, a small spell one uses to purge the afflicted of disease and poisons’.
‘Indeed. Tell me, do I look ill?’
‘No, not at all, but you did look a trifle……bored’.
‘Yeah, I was, I’m not one to sit about, I like to run’ Menolly beamed.
‘That will be the Minstrel in you’ he smiled.
‘You’re not exactly like other clerics are you?’ she asked cheerfully.
‘I should hope not, we are all individuals you know. Are you cheered up now?’
‘A little, thanks’ she smiled.
‘My pleasure. Hey, want to see something really pretty?’ he asked.
‘Sure’ she replied, her interest piqued.
‘Good’ he beamed. ‘Run around the cavern as fast as you can’.
She looked at him quizzically.
‘Huh?’
‘Go on, go ahead’ he encouraged.
Menolly shrugged, and grasped the drum hanging from her belt. She rattled her fingers across the drum skin and leaped toward the cavern wall. She hit it at an angle and sprinted down the hall, veered left at the end, passed the barricade, and headed back at full speed towards Darion.
He gestured gracefully, and the tingling sensation filled her body. A gentle flare of light blossomed from within her, followed by a huge silent eruption of green and red bubbles which streamed behind her like an illuminescent banner. Darion continued to gesture as onwards she ran.
More and more bubbles erupted from her in a beautiful display of colour. The stream of bubbles left a trail around the walls of the cavern, and Menolly caught the soldiers smiling at her as she flashed past, and she giggled with the fun of it. She veered towards Darion, and then ran in a circle around him. Round and round she ran, running through the bubbles from her previous circuit. She slowed down and glided nimbly to a halt in front of him.
‘That was fun, thank you’ she smiled.
‘You are welcome’.
‘Alarm!’ shouted a sentry. ‘Stand to!’.
‘Incoming patrol’ another shouted.
The sound of shouting echoed from the tunnel beyond the barricade.
Three soldiers opened the barricade, and the patrol ran through. Silk and Menolly ran towards them, looking eagerly for a sign of Dying.
‘Where is my husband?’ she shouted.
The soldiers hurriedly closed the barricade after the patrol.
‘I’m sorry M’lady, he fell’.
Case looked at Silk, a look of sorrow on his face. He was dirty and bloodied. ‘There was nothing we could do; we were ambushed above the Shredders’.
‘No’ sobbed Menolly.
Silk just stood there, staring at Case, her mouth slightly open as if to say something, but nothing came out.
Several arrows thudded into the barricade. Shouting erupted from the tunnel as a horde of Midgardians charged the defences. The Albion troops readied themselves, and returned fire. The Midgardians reached the barricade, and the sound of clashing swords and the screams of the injured and dying filled the hall. Clerics cast healing spells on the wounded, who rallied themselves and returned to the fray.
‘Mother?’ Menolly sobbed. ‘Father? Is it true, can you feel it?’
Silk bowed her head and closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up sharply.
‘He yet lives, I can feel it’ she said, with more strength than Menolly had ever seen in her mother. She turned towards the barricade and looked at the Mids with venom and advanced on them.
‘Menolly, with me’ she commanded.
Menolly drew her sword and followed. A frosty glint flashed in Silks eyes, and she gestured elegantly with her staff which flared with a blue light. Menolly felt the air around her chill suddenly as the spell blasted towards the attackers. Blue ice flashed across the Mid troops and they were instantly frozen, unable to move.
‘Charge!’ shouted Case, and the defenders leapt over the barricade and attacked their opponents. The reserve troops opened the barricade, and charged in support. The tide had turned.
‘Menolly, there is no time to be lost, take me down’ she said. ‘Take me to your Father’.
‘Dam right’ she replied. ‘Hold on’.
Silk laid her hand on her daughters shoulder, and squeezed gently. Menolly put away her sword, tapped her drum and they both flashed through the barricade.
‘Case’ Silk shouted ‘follow when you can’
Case watched the pair flash past, and then turned and felled a Kobold with his Jambya. Naetha charged a large Troll that was dressed in black chain armour.
‘Assist me’ she screamed, and Case and another Paladin leapt to her aid and brought the huge creature down. Menolly looked back briefly, and caught a glimpse of Darion waving and shouting something, but then she looked forward and charged down the ramp.
Down and down they ran, the walls a blur as they passed turnings and junctions.
‘We must be quick’ Silk shouted.
Menolly drummed a faster beat, and they both lent forward into the rushing wind as they accelerated.
‘We are approaching the Shredders’ Menolly shouted back at her mother.
‘That’s where the patrol was hit’ she shouted back.
Menolly caressed her drum, and the pair glided to a halt at the left turn by the Shredders. They peered around the corner briefly.
‘They are there, I can see Father’ Menolly whispered.
‘Where?’ Silk replied eagerly, risking another look.
‘He is by the far left pillar. I saw eight Mids’.
‘I see him, they are getting ready to move out by the looks of it’.
Menolly looked again. A Dwarf advanced on Dying, who was sat on the ground, hands bound behind his back. She watched as the Dwarf stood over the injured Paladin and kicked him in the head. Dying fell over unconscious. He then drew his sword, which glowed with a flickering purple flame.
‘Move, they are going to kill him’ Menolly said urgently.
She grabbed her mothers arm, tapped her drum, and charged down the ramp. Half way down the ramp, Silk shook off Menollys hold on her arm and slowed to a halt and waved her staff around her head. Menolly flashed down the ramp towards the Dwarf, who raised his sword above his head for the killing blow. Menolly drew her sword and screamed in exertion as she impaled the Dwarf at full speed.
The dirk buried itself in the Dwarfs back up to its hilt, and both he and Menolly crashed into the pillar and fell to the ground next to Dying. The remaining Mids were instantly alert and drew their weapons. Blue flame flared from Silks staff as she gestured, and blue ice flashed across the enemy group, instantly freezing them.
Silk ran towards Menolly and Dying, keeping an eye on the Mids in case her spell suddenly failed. Winded and sore, Menolly struggled to her feet. She grasped the hilt of her dirk, and pulled it free from the dead Dwarf. On unsteady legs, she went to Dyings side, and knelt to examine him. His face was bloody and battered, but he was breathing. She sliced through the ropes that bound his arms behind his back, and then put her weapon away.
‘Mother, help me lift him up’ Menolly said, as Silk reached her side.
Together, they grasped Dying under his arms and lifted. Both groaned with the exertion. A Kobold was suddenly released from the ice rooting spell, and charged towards the struggling women. Menolly shouted towards the Kobold and it jerked to a halt as the stun took effect.
‘We’re running out of time Menny, get us out of here’ Silk said calmly.
Mennoly caressed her drum, and the three surged forward at a greatly reduced speed. They were half way up the ramp when a series of shouts from behind told them that the ice spells grip had broken. Several arrows whistled past them as they progressed up the ramp. One hit Menolly’s drum, sending wooden fragments scattering across the cave floor. As the speed song vanished, an arrow struck Silk in the back. She screamed in pain, and all three veered right and crashed into a heap by the arch. A rumble of thunder and a crash sounded from somewhere up the tunnel ahead of them.
‘Menolly, run’ Silk cried between gritted teeth.
‘No! I’m not leaving you mother’ she snapped.
Menolly got to her feet and unsheathed her dirk. Raising her shield, she adopted a defensive position in front of her parents as the Mids advanced up the ramp. An arrow streaked towards her, and she fended it off with her shield. A second hit her in the stomach, and with a shout she dropped her dirk and fell to her knees. She looked behind her to see Silks tearful eyes slowly close as she fell across her husband.
Menolly sobbed and tried to crawl towards her and Dying as the Mids approached. A sudden scrambling sound from behind the arch startled her. Darion skidded round the corner and leapt sideways towards Menolly, knocking her towards the wall. She shouted in pain.
‘There’s a train behind me, get down’ he shouted.
A stream of creatures that had been pursuing Darion ran around the corner. Plate fiends, Quasits, Necromancers, Rocots, even a Sucubus. The Mids were the first thing they saw on rounding the bend, and they charged down the ramp towards them. Darion got to his feet, and knelt beside Menolly. As gently as he could, he quickly pulled out the arrow.
She screamed in agony and cursed. He stood up, and then oblivious to the battle behind him, he cast a serious of spells that numbed Menollys pain. He cast again and she felt life returning to her tired limbs.
Darion went to Silk and felt her neck. He felt no pulse.
She is dead' he whispered.
He got to his feet, gathered his concentration, and began to cast. He chanted and a silvery shimmering light enveloped Silks still body. The chant ended, and Darion fell to his knees and vomitted. Menolly looked from Silk to Darion, then back to her Mother.
Silks legs twitched. She moaned and her eyes fluttered open. Darion got to his feet and cast again, and Silk began to sit up, a bewilded look on her face. An arrow deflected off Darions shield and he wheeled around to face the Mids.
‘On your feet if you want to live’ he commanded.
He gestured twice, and the women felt a surge of strength. They scrambled to their feet, and bent to lift Dying. Darions expression changed to one of dark fury as he chanted and gestured towards the advancing Mids. Sheet lightning sheered from him, raced down the ramp, and arced high towards the ceiling where it shattered the base of a huge stalactite with a terrible concussion that boomed like thunder. Stone splinters sliced across the hall as the huge spike roared to the ground, killing and maiming some of the Mids.
Weakened now by his magical exertions, Darion turned to his friends, and moved to help lift Dying to his feet.
‘Menolly, we need speed song, now’ he urged.
‘I can’t, my drum has gone, its broken’ she sobbed in frustration.
Darion reached under his cloak, and unclipped Menolly’s spare drum from his utility belt.
‘Here, take it, it’s your spare from the camp fire. I thought you might need it’ he offered.
Menolly snatched it eagerly, and fixed it to her belt. A new fire shone in her eyes. An arrow hit the wall nearby, causing sparks to shower to the floor. Darion took Dyings left arm as Silk took his right. Menolly grabbed his collar as she beat an urgent rhythm on her drum, and off they surged, leaving certain death behind them.
Up the ramps they sped, but exhaustion was overtaking them all. Dying was like a lead weight in their arms, and they all perspired and breathed heavily as they dragged him along. They turned a corner and nearly ran into a party of Albion troops running down the ramp.
‘Keep going, we’ll cover you’ Case shouted.
Menolly looked back briefly to see Case and his group start to follow them. Nearly faint from their stinging wounds and the exertion, they approached the open barricade at speed. They flashed through the opening as their strength gave out, and they crashed into a heap on the cold stone floor. The defending troops ran towards them.
Dying groaned as his eyes blinked open. Silk and Menolly, their breath still in rasps, crawled towards him as he strained to sit up.
‘Urgh my head’ he moaned as he rubbed his bloodied forehead. He looked around quizzically as Silk put her arm around him, and Menolly hugged his chest. Darion sat himself against a stone pillar, and lay down his shield. Menolly looked across to him, and with tears in her eyes mouthed the words ‘Thank you’.
‘You’re welcome’ he mouthed back, and then fell instantly asleep.
Dying hugged his family and looked around at the smiling faces of the troops.
‘Did I miss something?’ he asked.
By Drew
Menolly sat on her blanket, staring into the flickering embers of the camp fire. She was bored. It was her turn on camp duty, and she was bored. While others went out on patrol, it was her job to assist in the maintenance and security of the Merchants base camp. She placed her spare drum on her blanket. She had been treating the drum skin with a light mineral oil to preserve it. She tore her glance away from the flames to look at her mother, who was fast asleep under her blanket. Silk coughed lightly and rolled over. Menolly looked back at the flames.
A tingling sensation in her nose made her sniff. A tiny stream of red and green bubbles wafted out of her nostrils. She stood up in alarm, rubbing her nose vigorously. The bubbles stopped. She looked around the camp, but no one was paying attention. Soldiers played dice around a fire on the other side of the camp, nearby a cleric sat in prayer. The rest of the soldiers manned the barricade near the down ramp. Did she imagine it? She sat down again.
The tingling sensation in her nose returned, much stronger this time. She sneezed loudly, and a cloud of multi coloured bubbles erupted from her mouth and nose. The Cleric laughed infectiously. Menolly drew her blade and levelled it at the cleric as she advanced on him.
‘It was you’ she accused.
‘Yes sister, it was I’ he replied between chuckles.
‘What kind of a cleric are you?’ she asked, her weapon now inches from his face.
‘One with a sense of humour’ he said, his eyes going cross eyed as he watched the point of her blade approach his nose.
‘Are you a minstrel with a sense of humour?’ he asked, smiling broadly as he looked up at her.
She held a stern expression for a few seconds, but it gave way to an impish grin.
‘Yeah, I guess I am’ she smiled as she put the blade away. ‘Who are you?’
The cleric stood up and bowed exuberantly.
‘Darion Darkwing, at your service young Minstrel’.
‘Menolly Serenely, at yours’ she said, bowing gracefully in return.
‘Delighted’ he smiled.
‘What was that you did to me?’ she inquired.
‘Ooh, nothing really, a small spell one uses to purge the afflicted of disease and poisons’.
‘Indeed. Tell me, do I look ill?’
‘No, not at all, but you did look a trifle……bored’.
‘Yeah, I was, I’m not one to sit about, I like to run’ Menolly beamed.
‘That will be the Minstrel in you’ he smiled.
‘You’re not exactly like other clerics are you?’ she asked cheerfully.
‘I should hope not, we are all individuals you know. Are you cheered up now?’
‘A little, thanks’ she smiled.
‘My pleasure. Hey, want to see something really pretty?’ he asked.
‘Sure’ she replied, her interest piqued.
‘Good’ he beamed. ‘Run around the cavern as fast as you can’.
She looked at him quizzically.
‘Huh?’
‘Go on, go ahead’ he encouraged.
Menolly shrugged, and grasped the drum hanging from her belt. She rattled her fingers across the drum skin and leaped toward the cavern wall. She hit it at an angle and sprinted down the hall, veered left at the end, passed the barricade, and headed back at full speed towards Darion.
He gestured gracefully, and the tingling sensation filled her body. A gentle flare of light blossomed from within her, followed by a huge silent eruption of green and red bubbles which streamed behind her like an illuminescent banner. Darion continued to gesture as onwards she ran.
More and more bubbles erupted from her in a beautiful display of colour. The stream of bubbles left a trail around the walls of the cavern, and Menolly caught the soldiers smiling at her as she flashed past, and she giggled with the fun of it. She veered towards Darion, and then ran in a circle around him. Round and round she ran, running through the bubbles from her previous circuit. She slowed down and glided nimbly to a halt in front of him.
‘That was fun, thank you’ she smiled.
‘You are welcome’.
‘Alarm!’ shouted a sentry. ‘Stand to!’.
‘Incoming patrol’ another shouted.
The sound of shouting echoed from the tunnel beyond the barricade.
Three soldiers opened the barricade, and the patrol ran through. Silk and Menolly ran towards them, looking eagerly for a sign of Dying.
‘Where is my husband?’ she shouted.
The soldiers hurriedly closed the barricade after the patrol.
‘I’m sorry M’lady, he fell’.
Case looked at Silk, a look of sorrow on his face. He was dirty and bloodied. ‘There was nothing we could do; we were ambushed above the Shredders’.
‘No’ sobbed Menolly.
Silk just stood there, staring at Case, her mouth slightly open as if to say something, but nothing came out.
Several arrows thudded into the barricade. Shouting erupted from the tunnel as a horde of Midgardians charged the defences. The Albion troops readied themselves, and returned fire. The Midgardians reached the barricade, and the sound of clashing swords and the screams of the injured and dying filled the hall. Clerics cast healing spells on the wounded, who rallied themselves and returned to the fray.
‘Mother?’ Menolly sobbed. ‘Father? Is it true, can you feel it?’
Silk bowed her head and closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up sharply.
‘He yet lives, I can feel it’ she said, with more strength than Menolly had ever seen in her mother. She turned towards the barricade and looked at the Mids with venom and advanced on them.
‘Menolly, with me’ she commanded.
Menolly drew her sword and followed. A frosty glint flashed in Silks eyes, and she gestured elegantly with her staff which flared with a blue light. Menolly felt the air around her chill suddenly as the spell blasted towards the attackers. Blue ice flashed across the Mid troops and they were instantly frozen, unable to move.
‘Charge!’ shouted Case, and the defenders leapt over the barricade and attacked their opponents. The reserve troops opened the barricade, and charged in support. The tide had turned.
‘Menolly, there is no time to be lost, take me down’ she said. ‘Take me to your Father’.
‘Dam right’ she replied. ‘Hold on’.
Silk laid her hand on her daughters shoulder, and squeezed gently. Menolly put away her sword, tapped her drum and they both flashed through the barricade.
‘Case’ Silk shouted ‘follow when you can’
Case watched the pair flash past, and then turned and felled a Kobold with his Jambya. Naetha charged a large Troll that was dressed in black chain armour.
‘Assist me’ she screamed, and Case and another Paladin leapt to her aid and brought the huge creature down. Menolly looked back briefly, and caught a glimpse of Darion waving and shouting something, but then she looked forward and charged down the ramp.
Down and down they ran, the walls a blur as they passed turnings and junctions.
‘We must be quick’ Silk shouted.
Menolly drummed a faster beat, and they both lent forward into the rushing wind as they accelerated.
‘We are approaching the Shredders’ Menolly shouted back at her mother.
‘That’s where the patrol was hit’ she shouted back.
Menolly caressed her drum, and the pair glided to a halt at the left turn by the Shredders. They peered around the corner briefly.
‘They are there, I can see Father’ Menolly whispered.
‘Where?’ Silk replied eagerly, risking another look.
‘He is by the far left pillar. I saw eight Mids’.
‘I see him, they are getting ready to move out by the looks of it’.
Menolly looked again. A Dwarf advanced on Dying, who was sat on the ground, hands bound behind his back. She watched as the Dwarf stood over the injured Paladin and kicked him in the head. Dying fell over unconscious. He then drew his sword, which glowed with a flickering purple flame.
‘Move, they are going to kill him’ Menolly said urgently.
She grabbed her mothers arm, tapped her drum, and charged down the ramp. Half way down the ramp, Silk shook off Menollys hold on her arm and slowed to a halt and waved her staff around her head. Menolly flashed down the ramp towards the Dwarf, who raised his sword above his head for the killing blow. Menolly drew her sword and screamed in exertion as she impaled the Dwarf at full speed.
The dirk buried itself in the Dwarfs back up to its hilt, and both he and Menolly crashed into the pillar and fell to the ground next to Dying. The remaining Mids were instantly alert and drew their weapons. Blue flame flared from Silks staff as she gestured, and blue ice flashed across the enemy group, instantly freezing them.
Silk ran towards Menolly and Dying, keeping an eye on the Mids in case her spell suddenly failed. Winded and sore, Menolly struggled to her feet. She grasped the hilt of her dirk, and pulled it free from the dead Dwarf. On unsteady legs, she went to Dyings side, and knelt to examine him. His face was bloody and battered, but he was breathing. She sliced through the ropes that bound his arms behind his back, and then put her weapon away.
‘Mother, help me lift him up’ Menolly said, as Silk reached her side.
Together, they grasped Dying under his arms and lifted. Both groaned with the exertion. A Kobold was suddenly released from the ice rooting spell, and charged towards the struggling women. Menolly shouted towards the Kobold and it jerked to a halt as the stun took effect.
‘We’re running out of time Menny, get us out of here’ Silk said calmly.
Mennoly caressed her drum, and the three surged forward at a greatly reduced speed. They were half way up the ramp when a series of shouts from behind told them that the ice spells grip had broken. Several arrows whistled past them as they progressed up the ramp. One hit Menolly’s drum, sending wooden fragments scattering across the cave floor. As the speed song vanished, an arrow struck Silk in the back. She screamed in pain, and all three veered right and crashed into a heap by the arch. A rumble of thunder and a crash sounded from somewhere up the tunnel ahead of them.
‘Menolly, run’ Silk cried between gritted teeth.
‘No! I’m not leaving you mother’ she snapped.
Menolly got to her feet and unsheathed her dirk. Raising her shield, she adopted a defensive position in front of her parents as the Mids advanced up the ramp. An arrow streaked towards her, and she fended it off with her shield. A second hit her in the stomach, and with a shout she dropped her dirk and fell to her knees. She looked behind her to see Silks tearful eyes slowly close as she fell across her husband.
Menolly sobbed and tried to crawl towards her and Dying as the Mids approached. A sudden scrambling sound from behind the arch startled her. Darion skidded round the corner and leapt sideways towards Menolly, knocking her towards the wall. She shouted in pain.
‘There’s a train behind me, get down’ he shouted.
A stream of creatures that had been pursuing Darion ran around the corner. Plate fiends, Quasits, Necromancers, Rocots, even a Sucubus. The Mids were the first thing they saw on rounding the bend, and they charged down the ramp towards them. Darion got to his feet, and knelt beside Menolly. As gently as he could, he quickly pulled out the arrow.
She screamed in agony and cursed. He stood up, and then oblivious to the battle behind him, he cast a serious of spells that numbed Menollys pain. He cast again and she felt life returning to her tired limbs.
Darion went to Silk and felt her neck. He felt no pulse.
She is dead' he whispered.
He got to his feet, gathered his concentration, and began to cast. He chanted and a silvery shimmering light enveloped Silks still body. The chant ended, and Darion fell to his knees and vomitted. Menolly looked from Silk to Darion, then back to her Mother.
Silks legs twitched. She moaned and her eyes fluttered open. Darion got to his feet and cast again, and Silk began to sit up, a bewilded look on her face. An arrow deflected off Darions shield and he wheeled around to face the Mids.
‘On your feet if you want to live’ he commanded.
He gestured twice, and the women felt a surge of strength. They scrambled to their feet, and bent to lift Dying. Darions expression changed to one of dark fury as he chanted and gestured towards the advancing Mids. Sheet lightning sheered from him, raced down the ramp, and arced high towards the ceiling where it shattered the base of a huge stalactite with a terrible concussion that boomed like thunder. Stone splinters sliced across the hall as the huge spike roared to the ground, killing and maiming some of the Mids.
Weakened now by his magical exertions, Darion turned to his friends, and moved to help lift Dying to his feet.
‘Menolly, we need speed song, now’ he urged.
‘I can’t, my drum has gone, its broken’ she sobbed in frustration.
Darion reached under his cloak, and unclipped Menolly’s spare drum from his utility belt.
‘Here, take it, it’s your spare from the camp fire. I thought you might need it’ he offered.
Menolly snatched it eagerly, and fixed it to her belt. A new fire shone in her eyes. An arrow hit the wall nearby, causing sparks to shower to the floor. Darion took Dyings left arm as Silk took his right. Menolly grabbed his collar as she beat an urgent rhythm on her drum, and off they surged, leaving certain death behind them.
Up the ramps they sped, but exhaustion was overtaking them all. Dying was like a lead weight in their arms, and they all perspired and breathed heavily as they dragged him along. They turned a corner and nearly ran into a party of Albion troops running down the ramp.
‘Keep going, we’ll cover you’ Case shouted.
Menolly looked back briefly to see Case and his group start to follow them. Nearly faint from their stinging wounds and the exertion, they approached the open barricade at speed. They flashed through the opening as their strength gave out, and they crashed into a heap on the cold stone floor. The defending troops ran towards them.
Dying groaned as his eyes blinked open. Silk and Menolly, their breath still in rasps, crawled towards him as he strained to sit up.
‘Urgh my head’ he moaned as he rubbed his bloodied forehead. He looked around quizzically as Silk put her arm around him, and Menolly hugged his chest. Darion sat himself against a stone pillar, and lay down his shield. Menolly looked across to him, and with tears in her eyes mouthed the words ‘Thank you’.
‘You’re welcome’ he mouthed back, and then fell instantly asleep.
Dying hugged his family and looked around at the smiling faces of the troops.
‘Did I miss something?’ he asked.
