Searing 64
As the slunk away Myles cursed under his breath. He didn't like the idea of letting criminals get away. But his wounds, and more so than that the wounds of his subordinates concerned him. He realized however that the reason they'd backed off was the sound of pounding boots growing closer. Reinforcements he thought with no lack of relief. Slumping to one knee Myles gritted his teeth. The shard of bone in his calf was lodged nicely in the meat of his leg and causing him no end of pain.
With the witch and cohorts no longer in sight Myles cursed again Forcing himself to stand and turn to Terra and Jonah to surmise their wounds, they were both worse for ware but they didn't seem to have any life threatening injuries. They both wore terrible expressions that bellied all sorts of negative emotions. Boots now pounded around the corner revealing a column of twelve men with torches.
Pointing into the complex Myles waved the men on. “Don't worry about us, there are at least one mage and two more cultists with blades in their, could be more. Move it!” punctuating his command with a shout the nightwatchmen reinforcements headed in. The silence that followed was eerie, and in short order the complex was sweeped with them finding nobody.
Looking back to Terra and Jonah “You both did excellent, if there were any mistakes made on this operation they were mine and mine alone. Lets get us back to the barracks medic.” Jonah was favoring his right leg and held a wrist tentatively, Terra was burned, he'd failed to fully extract her from the danger, he couldn't deny that he was also potentially to blame for Jonah's injuries from the rough way he'd thrown him. Cursing himself mentally for allowing his subordinates to get wounded when he'd known already about the cults abilities to turn bodies into bombs. Turning away from the crime scene Myles debated pulling the shard from his leg but decided against it. Looking back to the viscera that had once been his enemies, he picked up the wicked ax one had wielded. It too was worse for wear but it would make a serviceable crutch. “Alright, to the medic”
With the witch and cohorts no longer in sight Myles cursed again Forcing himself to stand and turn to Terra and Jonah to surmise their wounds, they were both worse for ware but they didn't seem to have any life threatening injuries. They both wore terrible expressions that bellied all sorts of negative emotions. Boots now pounded around the corner revealing a column of twelve men with torches.
Pointing into the complex Myles waved the men on. “Don't worry about us, there are at least one mage and two more cultists with blades in their, could be more. Move it!” punctuating his command with a shout the nightwatchmen reinforcements headed in. The silence that followed was eerie, and in short order the complex was sweeped with them finding nobody.
Looking back to Terra and Jonah “You both did excellent, if there were any mistakes made on this operation they were mine and mine alone. Lets get us back to the barracks medic.” Jonah was favoring his right leg and held a wrist tentatively, Terra was burned, he'd failed to fully extract her from the danger, he couldn't deny that he was also potentially to blame for Jonah's injuries from the rough way he'd thrown him. Cursing himself mentally for allowing his subordinates to get wounded when he'd known already about the cults abilities to turn bodies into bombs. Turning away from the crime scene Myles debated pulling the shard from his leg but decided against it. Looking back to the viscera that had once been his enemies, he picked up the wicked ax one had wielded. It too was worse for wear but it would make a serviceable crutch. “Alright, to the medic”
