Post by Wolf on Feb 27, 2006 12:12:40 GMT -5
A story about a thief, betrayal, deception etc. I like the more brutal side of things usually but this one isn't that bad ;D 
He heard the pattering of footsteps behind him. His heart pounded while he hid in the shadows and let his pursuers pass by, the clank of metal indicating they were soldiers. The sounds died away slowly as the men at arms continued on their path after the young man whom was now behind them. Their swords shone in the moonlight and their chest plates were illuminated brightly in the glow as they ran through cobbled streets, branching off frequently to un politely barge into a dirty, worn house and search for their quarry.
A sigh of relief emitted from the shadows and a figure appeared, his features enhanced by the moon as he looked around, odd amber eyes scanning the street for soldiers. Seeing no one, he ran his hand through his thick, tawny hair and scratched the stubble on his chin, before darting down an alleyway across from his last position, thin, tattered cloak whipping out behind him.
The man walked through the shadows, cautious as he occasionally walked into a light patch, his thin face set into an emotionless expression and his mind planning out the route ahead. Silently he came to the end of the alley and to a wall, bigger than him, though it wasn’t exactly hard as he was only 5”4 and fully grown. With a precarious glance backwards and a hand on the hilt of his curved dagger, he rapped on the wall four times, the sound unfortunately echoing off of the walls of the shabby houses around him.
“Damnit,” He muttered as nothing happened and glanced furtively behind around, ears straining for sounds of Metal, the soldiers or the ‘Carlaks’ as he and his fellows called them by, not a very nice name in their language.
“Well, well there you are,” A cold, sneering voice uttered as the captain of the Kings guard appeared out of the shadows, gloved hand upon the hilt of his long broadsword which rested against his leg.
The man’s heart hammered in his chest as more soldiers appeared armoured and weapons drawn. He swallowed, throat dry and backed away slightly, knees shaking. He swallowed again as fear threatened to overwhelm him but instinct told him he was as good as dead if he feared the ‘Carlaks’. The captain addressed him and demanded his name but the young man drew his dagger and with difficulty, stopped shaking, fear getting less as he twisted the curved blade, watching it glint.
“For the last time Rogue, What is your name?” The captain spat, hand tightening on the hilt of his weapon. The guards shifted back and forth, eager to be over with the man and continue on, yet their leader wasn’t ready to kill him…yet.
The young man tightened his grip upon the hilt of the dagger, palms beginning to grow sweaty and his heart still thudding in his chest, pounding against his rib cage like there was no tomorrow but his mind still remained somewhat fearless, calculating. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in a situation like this before, but there hadn’t been as many men after him in armour as there were now and his body was already telling him he was going to lose.
“If you won’t talk then your friend will,” The Captain growled and with a snap of his fingers, a couple of soldiers appeared, dragging another man by the arms, his face bruised and an angry wound upon his temple bled. The men dropped their captive to the ground, kicking him before departing back to the rest of the soldiers.
“Now then, what is his name?” The Captain roared pointing a finger at the man whose eyes flickered over his best friend lying upon the ground, willing him not to tell them his name for once he did, he would be entered into the gallows register and hung for thievery.
The crumpled man, heaved himself up into a sitting position, only able to see through one eye and with regret spoke, “That is Morgrim and he is the Leader of Thieves,” He looked at the Captain pleadingly and clutched at his red cape, “I did good, spare me and I shall lead you there behind that wall,” He whined, shakily pointing a finger at the wall behind Morgrim, whose face was disgusted and eyes burned with the anger of betrayal.
The captain pulled his cape roughly from the pleading man, making him fall and looked around the dirty alleyway before turning his attention back to the pitiful figure upon the ground.
“All I asked for was a name, you are of no use to me dead or alive, but that mouth of yours needs to be kept shut, for betraying a comrade is surely the penalty of death,” He smirked as the mans eyes filled with undeniable fear. “Kill him.”
The man cried out as a guard pinned him to the ground and slit his throat, blood pooling around the figure that gasped for air, gurgling and choking upon his own blood.
The Captain had turned his attention back to Morgrim whose eyes rested disgustingly on the dying man and smirked.
“You’re a leader eh…Morgrim,” He said the name with victory and sneered, cold black eyes smiling.
Morgrim roared and lunged at the Captain who sidestepped and hit the smaller man in the stomach. The thief fell to the ground and rolled, knife landing a few feet away from him and the captain laughed as soldiers made a ring around them both, swords drawn.
“If you’re a leader Morgrim, fight like one!” The man shouted as Morgrim got up and held up his fists, before springing again, dodging the man’s furious blow and smashed his elbow into his face, fell back and rolled again, hand reaching for his dagger. He yelped as a soldier stood on his hand, holding the weapon and was unfairly pinned down as the captain stood hand to his bloody face, anger and embarrassment burning in his eyes. Morgrim in spite of his position grinned up at the Captain, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Take him away! He will fill the empty noose of the gallows this morn,” The Captain growled, furious at the grinning thief and turned as Morgrim was seized by several soldiers and dragged away by his collar, his shouts and filthy curses echoing in the alley and onto the streets.
With a hideous, cruel laugh the Captain stepped over the body of the dead traitor and exited the alleyway, looking up to the sky with undeniable glee as dawn broke the horizon.
Drums rolled and shouts sounded as Morgrim stood, hands tied in front of him upon the gallows stand, noose in front of him. He swallowed as the anger from the night left him and the scent of death hung heavy in the air, pressing in on him and threatening to suffocate him before the noose, covered in stained blood where it had bit and dug into victims before, could. Though maybe his death would be a quick one, his neck breaking as the rope fell instead of the slow suffocation so many of his fellows and family had suffered before him. His eyes drifted to the sky, thoughts of his wife and daughter present before them as he remembered his little girl’s smile as she welcomed him home earlier in his life before they had been snatched away charged with stealing. His daughter, his little girl not even eight years of age had been hung, as had his darling wife and now it seemed that was to be his fate as well. He hadn’t actually stolen much to deserve this.
“Morgrim, Master thief is to be hung on 52 accounts of thievery…” Okay maybe he had, he thought wryly, and grinned as he listened to the various accounts of his thievery.
“A chicken, several horses, gold from the Baron, several diamonds, swords, armour…” The list went on and on.
Morgrim looked about himself, into the crowd, ignoring the jeering faces and smiling softly as he gazed into the faces of pitying women whom cried, for him he knew not yet they seemed sorry for his troubles.
The man reading his list of crimes rolled the long parchment up and departed, jumping out of the way of the Captain, his face patched up from Morgrim’s attack. He walked up the steps of the gallows and smiled cruelly, cuffing Morgrim around the back of the head.
“Any last words thief?” The Captain said, loud enough for the crowd to hear.
Morgrim smiled pleasantly up at him, “Actually yes,” He started.
“Screw you,” He grinned and spat at the Captains foot, the larger man’s face contorting in anger as the crowd gasped and a few cheers went up.
The captain slapped Morgrim across the face and departed, nodding to the executioner who came forward and roughly fitted the heavy noose about the thief’s neck.
The drum roll sounded and the crowd was silent as Morgrim averted his eyes to the sky, not looking the least concerned but deep inside he gazed on at the pale blues melded with soft pinks of morning light, amber eyes soft and face smooth. He smiled as he watched two birds fly through the sky, free and unhunted, watching the events below as they passed overhead.
Morgrim laughed softly, happy that he was going to be with his beloved again and looked at the captain, defiance in his eyes. Getting faster, the drums rolled, almost eager to have another death at their hands and a body in the wind. They thudded to a stop.
The rope dropped…
He heard the pattering of footsteps behind him. His heart pounded while he hid in the shadows and let his pursuers pass by, the clank of metal indicating they were soldiers. The sounds died away slowly as the men at arms continued on their path after the young man whom was now behind them. Their swords shone in the moonlight and their chest plates were illuminated brightly in the glow as they ran through cobbled streets, branching off frequently to un politely barge into a dirty, worn house and search for their quarry.
A sigh of relief emitted from the shadows and a figure appeared, his features enhanced by the moon as he looked around, odd amber eyes scanning the street for soldiers. Seeing no one, he ran his hand through his thick, tawny hair and scratched the stubble on his chin, before darting down an alleyway across from his last position, thin, tattered cloak whipping out behind him.
The man walked through the shadows, cautious as he occasionally walked into a light patch, his thin face set into an emotionless expression and his mind planning out the route ahead. Silently he came to the end of the alley and to a wall, bigger than him, though it wasn’t exactly hard as he was only 5”4 and fully grown. With a precarious glance backwards and a hand on the hilt of his curved dagger, he rapped on the wall four times, the sound unfortunately echoing off of the walls of the shabby houses around him.
“Damnit,” He muttered as nothing happened and glanced furtively behind around, ears straining for sounds of Metal, the soldiers or the ‘Carlaks’ as he and his fellows called them by, not a very nice name in their language.
“Well, well there you are,” A cold, sneering voice uttered as the captain of the Kings guard appeared out of the shadows, gloved hand upon the hilt of his long broadsword which rested against his leg.
The man’s heart hammered in his chest as more soldiers appeared armoured and weapons drawn. He swallowed, throat dry and backed away slightly, knees shaking. He swallowed again as fear threatened to overwhelm him but instinct told him he was as good as dead if he feared the ‘Carlaks’. The captain addressed him and demanded his name but the young man drew his dagger and with difficulty, stopped shaking, fear getting less as he twisted the curved blade, watching it glint.
“For the last time Rogue, What is your name?” The captain spat, hand tightening on the hilt of his weapon. The guards shifted back and forth, eager to be over with the man and continue on, yet their leader wasn’t ready to kill him…yet.
The young man tightened his grip upon the hilt of the dagger, palms beginning to grow sweaty and his heart still thudding in his chest, pounding against his rib cage like there was no tomorrow but his mind still remained somewhat fearless, calculating. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in a situation like this before, but there hadn’t been as many men after him in armour as there were now and his body was already telling him he was going to lose.
“If you won’t talk then your friend will,” The Captain growled and with a snap of his fingers, a couple of soldiers appeared, dragging another man by the arms, his face bruised and an angry wound upon his temple bled. The men dropped their captive to the ground, kicking him before departing back to the rest of the soldiers.
“Now then, what is his name?” The Captain roared pointing a finger at the man whose eyes flickered over his best friend lying upon the ground, willing him not to tell them his name for once he did, he would be entered into the gallows register and hung for thievery.
The crumpled man, heaved himself up into a sitting position, only able to see through one eye and with regret spoke, “That is Morgrim and he is the Leader of Thieves,” He looked at the Captain pleadingly and clutched at his red cape, “I did good, spare me and I shall lead you there behind that wall,” He whined, shakily pointing a finger at the wall behind Morgrim, whose face was disgusted and eyes burned with the anger of betrayal.
The captain pulled his cape roughly from the pleading man, making him fall and looked around the dirty alleyway before turning his attention back to the pitiful figure upon the ground.
“All I asked for was a name, you are of no use to me dead or alive, but that mouth of yours needs to be kept shut, for betraying a comrade is surely the penalty of death,” He smirked as the mans eyes filled with undeniable fear. “Kill him.”
The man cried out as a guard pinned him to the ground and slit his throat, blood pooling around the figure that gasped for air, gurgling and choking upon his own blood.
The Captain had turned his attention back to Morgrim whose eyes rested disgustingly on the dying man and smirked.
“You’re a leader eh…Morgrim,” He said the name with victory and sneered, cold black eyes smiling.
Morgrim roared and lunged at the Captain who sidestepped and hit the smaller man in the stomach. The thief fell to the ground and rolled, knife landing a few feet away from him and the captain laughed as soldiers made a ring around them both, swords drawn.
“If you’re a leader Morgrim, fight like one!” The man shouted as Morgrim got up and held up his fists, before springing again, dodging the man’s furious blow and smashed his elbow into his face, fell back and rolled again, hand reaching for his dagger. He yelped as a soldier stood on his hand, holding the weapon and was unfairly pinned down as the captain stood hand to his bloody face, anger and embarrassment burning in his eyes. Morgrim in spite of his position grinned up at the Captain, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Take him away! He will fill the empty noose of the gallows this morn,” The Captain growled, furious at the grinning thief and turned as Morgrim was seized by several soldiers and dragged away by his collar, his shouts and filthy curses echoing in the alley and onto the streets.
With a hideous, cruel laugh the Captain stepped over the body of the dead traitor and exited the alleyway, looking up to the sky with undeniable glee as dawn broke the horizon.
Drums rolled and shouts sounded as Morgrim stood, hands tied in front of him upon the gallows stand, noose in front of him. He swallowed as the anger from the night left him and the scent of death hung heavy in the air, pressing in on him and threatening to suffocate him before the noose, covered in stained blood where it had bit and dug into victims before, could. Though maybe his death would be a quick one, his neck breaking as the rope fell instead of the slow suffocation so many of his fellows and family had suffered before him. His eyes drifted to the sky, thoughts of his wife and daughter present before them as he remembered his little girl’s smile as she welcomed him home earlier in his life before they had been snatched away charged with stealing. His daughter, his little girl not even eight years of age had been hung, as had his darling wife and now it seemed that was to be his fate as well. He hadn’t actually stolen much to deserve this.
“Morgrim, Master thief is to be hung on 52 accounts of thievery…” Okay maybe he had, he thought wryly, and grinned as he listened to the various accounts of his thievery.
“A chicken, several horses, gold from the Baron, several diamonds, swords, armour…” The list went on and on.
Morgrim looked about himself, into the crowd, ignoring the jeering faces and smiling softly as he gazed into the faces of pitying women whom cried, for him he knew not yet they seemed sorry for his troubles.
The man reading his list of crimes rolled the long parchment up and departed, jumping out of the way of the Captain, his face patched up from Morgrim’s attack. He walked up the steps of the gallows and smiled cruelly, cuffing Morgrim around the back of the head.
“Any last words thief?” The Captain said, loud enough for the crowd to hear.
Morgrim smiled pleasantly up at him, “Actually yes,” He started.
“Screw you,” He grinned and spat at the Captains foot, the larger man’s face contorting in anger as the crowd gasped and a few cheers went up.
The captain slapped Morgrim across the face and departed, nodding to the executioner who came forward and roughly fitted the heavy noose about the thief’s neck.
The drum roll sounded and the crowd was silent as Morgrim averted his eyes to the sky, not looking the least concerned but deep inside he gazed on at the pale blues melded with soft pinks of morning light, amber eyes soft and face smooth. He smiled as he watched two birds fly through the sky, free and unhunted, watching the events below as they passed overhead.
Morgrim laughed softly, happy that he was going to be with his beloved again and looked at the captain, defiance in his eyes. Getting faster, the drums rolled, almost eager to have another death at their hands and a body in the wind. They thudded to a stop.
The rope dropped…
