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"Thank you for your insight, Warrior! More troops! You come up with that gem all by yourself!"
Laurana rolls her eyes. "Whatever. You're pissed and I'm too damn tired to come up with a wise ass comment to calm you."
The surrounding tired and bloodied Blackwood look down, still stinging from their forced retreat.
Byrun takes a deep breath. "No... you're right. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at myself. I failed. I failed the Blackwood. I failed my Family. I failed the Valley"
The Mercenaries remained solemn, allowing their Commander's words to sink in.
A new recruit, a Grunt named Tyranus stepped forward. "No Commander. We failed. If there is fault, it belongs to us all."
Laurana chimed in again. "We're going to have to pick a side. The Aurilites we were able to push back, but we cannot handle an army that large alone, especially of undead."
Sandro, who had been watching the exchange, spoke up. "Don't forget, Lord Hellstrom, I'm at your disposal."
Byrun rubs the bridge of his nose. "Gods, I need a drink."
"I'm too tired to drink. I doubt I'll be able to draw my bow for a week. By the way Commander, I'm requesting a week of leave."
Byrun nods to his elven attendant. "Granted. Everybody get cleaned up and grab some warm food and decent drink. Wait here for any stragglers."
The Mercenaries all nod and begin to disperse. Byrun heads toward the opposite end of the Trading Post, toward his family's lands.
The new dwarven Grunt catches up to him. "Sir... Do you need anything else of me?"
"No, Mister Blackbeard. I've got to head to my Keep then to Avanthyr. They should know there's a small army of undead loose. I'm not looking forward to either meeting, to be honest."
The dwarf offered a nod and left. Byrun continued to make his way to his Keep. The loss of the City and his troops weighed on his mind. The screams of the of citizens echoed in his ears. Their cries as the undead swept through the City. He makes it to the empty arena before finally collapsing next to a sign and burying his head in his hands. He was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Laurana rolls her eyes. "Whatever. You're pissed and I'm too damn tired to come up with a wise ass comment to calm you."
The surrounding tired and bloodied Blackwood look down, still stinging from their forced retreat.
Byrun takes a deep breath. "No... you're right. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at myself. I failed. I failed the Blackwood. I failed my Family. I failed the Valley"
The Mercenaries remained solemn, allowing their Commander's words to sink in.
A new recruit, a Grunt named Tyranus stepped forward. "No Commander. We failed. If there is fault, it belongs to us all."
Laurana chimed in again. "We're going to have to pick a side. The Aurilites we were able to push back, but we cannot handle an army that large alone, especially of undead."
Sandro, who had been watching the exchange, spoke up. "Don't forget, Lord Hellstrom, I'm at your disposal."
Byrun rubs the bridge of his nose. "Gods, I need a drink."
"I'm too tired to drink. I doubt I'll be able to draw my bow for a week. By the way Commander, I'm requesting a week of leave."
Byrun nods to his elven attendant. "Granted. Everybody get cleaned up and grab some warm food and decent drink. Wait here for any stragglers."
The Mercenaries all nod and begin to disperse. Byrun heads toward the opposite end of the Trading Post, toward his family's lands.
The new dwarven Grunt catches up to him. "Sir... Do you need anything else of me?"
"No, Mister Blackbeard. I've got to head to my Keep then to Avanthyr. They should know there's a small army of undead loose. I'm not looking forward to either meeting, to be honest."
The dwarf offered a nod and left. Byrun continued to make his way to his Keep. The loss of the City and his troops weighed on his mind. The screams of the of citizens echoed in his ears. Their cries as the undead swept through the City. He makes it to the empty arena before finally collapsing next to a sign and burying his head in his hands. He was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.