::::::: This is my first story ever : ) so be nice, I'll try and see people's reactions, before deciding whether to continue with it… so enjoy, r&r ::::::
Ignus Greyblade, Flame Legion Warrior, growled.
On their knees, two men in the garb of Ascalonian Soldiers were bound before him, their spiked armour giving the man between them a rather timid look in comparison.
It was this man who now spoke, in a wild and desperate voice to match his looks.
"I beg of you, spare me, I have done you no wrong! I've never had a problem with Charr, in fact, I like them-"
"Shut up Torin, you treacherous coward, face death like a man," spat the Soldier.
Ignus snarled, knocking him to the floor before backhanding Torin viciously.
"Cease your blabberings meat," with that, he proceeded into his small tent to fetch his axe.
He had stumbled onto the trio quite by luck, having cornered the deserter, the two Soldiers were getting ready to fight when they were set upon by a small group of Devourers... Torin had chosen this time to flee... right into Ignus' camp, where rough bounds were waiting for him.
Ignus had then exited to find the Soldiers themselves cornered, and had relieved them of their predicament – only to replace it with another.
His story was much the same, the Greyblade warband was patrolling on the edge of Charr territory, when the Ascalon Vanguard ambushers had attacked; Ignus has been the only survivor. The shame of having his Warband killed - and worse, being the one to survive would be huge, Charr would look upon his name with scorn, his honour tarnished forever.
He thought now gleefully at his own fortune, the single handed capture of a pair of heavily-armed, well trained Soldiers and a powerful flame Elementalist would regain his honour, all he needed was to find his commander and lead the prisoners to him.
Yes, Jaw Smokeskin would see to it his honour was restored - and would enjoy every minute of torture the meat were put through...
Staff Sergeant Brett Vickers watched as the Charr retreated into his camp, then nodded to his companion.
Hefting his shield, Staff Sergeant Dermot saluted, then started down the path towards the encampment.
Sergeant Vickers set two fingers on his bowstring, nocked an arrow, and waited.