“I think that’s a good idea indeed.”, Aurin’s comment came in a low tone, it hardly carried over the noise of the rain and the boom of thunder. Slowing he drew the blade from over one shoulder as they approached the house, the weapon making a soft hissing as steel slid against leather. He held the massive weapon loosely in one hand however, the other dipped into a pouch at his waist. It reappeared with a small glass globe filled with a viscous green liquid that seemed to cling to the sides of the glass as he offered it though the rain towards the swordswoman. “Acid bomb,” his words followed by a vicious smile. “Might even things up if there are too many in there. Just try not to catch me in the blast.”
As he crouched low and made his way towards the stone he listened to the sounds of the commotion his fellow was causing closer to the front of the home. He counted the numbers, listening to the hurried footfalls and the sudden drawing of weapons. The shouts of alarm didn’t carry far in the rain, but he wondered if they would have lookouts or pickets on a night like this.
As her question however he raised a hand slowly to calm her, an answering smile crossing his features as he looked towards the woman. His blue eyes seemed brighter as he replied. “…just a moment…” He cautioned her to wait…
The moment of waiting was shattered by the sound of glass shattering, followed immediately by the heat and roar of a sudden burst of flame from near the animal pen. The sudden raise in temperature washed over the Templar in a wave, turning droplets of water into steam as he rose in one motion. “That would be the signal.”, Aurin’s words were followed by a growl as the warrior drew back his foot and then kicked forwards. The weight of man and metal shattered the flimsy door into splinters that fell inside the dirt floor of the large room. The impact didn’t stop the man however, and he thundered inside his head whipping around as he sought for an opponent.
There were plenty of those.
Three men were clustered around the fireplace at the opposite end of the room, they seemed to be mercenaries or rogues. Their mismatched armor rang jarringly as they whirled towards the sudden entrance of the Templar. Bits of plate, chain, and leather gave all three a motley appearance but the weapons in their hands were bright and well kept. The first to recover was as dark haired man with cruel eyes that wielded a pair of short swords, and he kicked one of his larger companions whose lanky blonde hair was pulled back away from a bearded face. The bearded man reached quickly for a battleaxe that lay close at hand before beginning to lumber forwards towards where the shattered remains of the door hung by one bent hinge.
What took up Aurin’s attention however was a young looking man that had been standing by one of the front windows. The light from the fire glistened off his shaved head as he turned with surprise in his eyes to face the Templar’s advance. His maroon robes swirled about him, and he held a gnarled white-wood staff in one hand with a keen edged dagger in the other. He looked frail, and the dagger shook in his hand as he looked towards the oncoming Templar.