"Don't worry Ty, we'll get you out of this mess from the inside out."
Lumis' words echoed in Tyro's mind as the morning of his execution came to pass.
"I can handle myself, Nitwit. Get Count Amilon." Tyro had replied to the young monk with vengeful determination in his voice before Lumis had snuck back out of harms way and towards the other harms way; the coming battle. The darkness paired with the shortage of guards due to casualties had afforded them a brief moment of communication - in which Tyro laid out a basic 3 pronged attack plan to Lumis. Tyro now waited in a damp cell with the remaining death row convicts. The sound of the dropping guillotine echoed sharply in the morning air as the Warden and Executioner tested out their instrument of capital punishment. Voices arose as the crowds began to assemble.
"Damn bastards and their public execution. I hope the Warden trips and falls under it." One of the prisoners growled. The rest of them seemed to have no voice.
Tyro had been up all night filing away at the chain binding his handcuffs together with the serrated crossbow bolt tip, and he continued to do so inconspicuously. The door to the cell burst open as three black armored dark knights wearing hoods filed in behind the Warden.
"All right you sons of bitches on your feet!" One of the knights roared as they began hefting the prisoners up and pushing them roughly into single file. Tyro dropped his crossbow bolt tip as he was yanked to his feet by the handcuff chain. The Warden paced back and forward, looking each and every prisoner in the eyes with a wild grin. He issued Tyro to the front. The dark knights ran a single long chain through each prisoner's handcuff chain, attaching it to Tyro's and the last prisoner's to secure the bind.
"Now I expect that each and every one of you will meet your death with a sense of dignity." He said with his nose in the air, eyes closed. He turned to Tyro and stared at the side of his head. "Especially you." Tyro continued staring straight forward, statuesque. They pushed Tyro forward, but he refused to move. One of the knights grabbed him by the crotch and pulled him forward, Tyro was forced to obey.
The line of prisoners was led upstairs to the light of the breaking dawn. A gentle fog rested on their shoulders. Tyro was surprised to see that every single knight, guard and citizen in the square was wearing black. He even noticed a black-robed woman holding a baby wrapped in a black shawl. There were symbols that he didn't recognize flying on banners, buildings were painted black, and statues sat ominously around the square that he couldn't comprehend.
"This isn't the Dusthelm I remember..." He whispered to himself. They lined the prisoners up in front of the guillotine, where a large man wearing a black hood that obscured his face stood, holding the rope - the executioner. Tyro got a burst of adrenline in the pit of his stomach. The Warden stepped upon his soap box.
"For their crimes against humanity, refusal to conform to the laws of the land, and hopeless nature of their ignorance of discipline, these criminals are hereby sentenced to death." The Warden's voice echoed across the once glorious square of Dusthelm, now turned into bloody spectacle. The crowd roared cheers of approval, and began chanting words of a nature unknown to Tyro.
"A mass public execution, what better way to demonstrate your power!" The man behind Tyro said loudly. The Warden turned on the man in an instant.
"Knight of Dusthelm, remove that man from the line." The dark knight obeyed instanteniously, unlocking the man's cuffs from the chain and leading him forward. "For your insolence, let you be the first to meet your fate." He turned to Tyro and whispered, "I want you to watch carefully." The Warden sneered. Another cheer of approval came from the crowd, who again repeated their chant three times. As the knights were leading him forward, Tyro decided it was the time to act. He yanked his arms in opposite directions as hard as he could, but the chain didn't budge. He forced his arms apart again, refusing to quit. Two knights immediately began to attempt to restrain his arms. Tyro continued struggling against their hold as the first prisoner's head was forced into place under the guillotine. The Warden, not wanting to appear out of control of the situation got back upon his soap box. Suddenly, as Tyro twisted and fought to break his shackles under the oppressive grip of the dark knights, the chain link he had filed broke with a metallic clink. His arms exploded to either side with such power that it threw the knights off of him. He sprinted forward towards the guillotine. The crowd emmitted screams of horror as they witnessed the very first break in control that their cult had held for so long. Tyro, in breaking his own chain, released the other convicts who, while still handcuffed, dove at their captors with desperate ferocity.
"DO IT NOW!" The Warden screamed to the executioner, who then yanked the rope just as Tyro reached the chopping block. He kicked the upper neck guard clear off of it's supports, and as the guillotine fell towards him, he reached up and stopped it in it's tracks by the wooden weight that held the blade in place. The blade came to a rest just inches above his shoulder as he held it up. All hell had broken loose. Citizens fled in terror. Knights drew their weapons and flowed into the square towards the until recent prisoners. A few of the convicts pulled the man who almost was executed out from harm's way and held up the guillotine to pull Tyro out from underneath it as well. Ignoring all other opponents, the enraged Tyro stomped towards the Warden, who leapt off of the soap box down into the empty square and drew his rapier. Tyro walked straight towards him as the other convicts engaged the knights. Casualties began to mount up on both sides, however, the prisoners fought for sweet survival - seemingly giving them the edge of morale.
"I should have killed you when I had the chance!" The Warden spat, as he took a defensive fencing stance. Tyro ran straight towards him. The Warden simply sidestepped his direct assault while landing three fancy slashes to his face, cutting him below the eye, splitting his bottom lip open, and lobbing off a section of his left ear. "Arrogant boy!"
Wordlessly, Tyro roared in a berserk state of rage and charged straight towards the Warden again, who began to step backward, but quickly composed himself and leapt in for a stab to the heart. Tyro grabbed the blade with his hand and attempted to wrench the weapon from his opponent, but the Warden maintained a good grip on the hilt. A quick tug of war happened between the battling pair, Tyro refusing to let go of the blade. The Warden used his footwork, and with a flick of his wrist the blade pierced Tyro's shoulder and penetrated clear through. Feeling no pain due to his adrenaline-fueled mental state, Tyro let out a roar of frustration and dove upon his victim, wrestling him to the ground. The Warden attempted to twist the blade to maximize damage, but instead it snapped off at the hilt. Panic filled the Warden's eyes as Tyro wrapped his hands around his throat and choked him until he was unconcious, all the while screaming in red-faced fury. Steam rose from Tyro's body, particularly his wounds as he downed his opponent. The Warden's body lay spread eagled on the ground. The other knights and executioner had either fled or were slaughtered by the convicts, Tyro was unsure, but there were several smoldering bodies left behind.
A convict helped Tyro to his feet and pulled the blade out of the back of his shoulder. Tyro screamed in pain, and the convict simply gave him a pat on the back.
"More coming!" A convict yelled as four more dark knights filed out of the castle and crossed the bridge in their direction. Tyro, still in a state of berserk rage, sprinted at the closest one with a battle cry, backed by his apparant comrades. The lead knight hefted a huge black metal greatsword over his head and began to swing it down at Tyro, who had crossed the battlefield in an instant and gripped the handle before the apex of the power swing. Tyro twisted the weapon out of the man's hands and swung it in a sideways arc with one swift motion - cutting clear through the man's armored torso. The two halves of the late knight's body collapsed to the ground with a thud as his organs and intestines scattered across the side of the bridge and hung down, dipping into the water below. At the fearsome sight, the other three dark knights turned tail and fled back to the safety of the castle, and began closing the two large oaken doors. They had just got the doors shut and were sliding the locking bar down into place when Tyro raised the heavy blade over his head and threw it forward with a scream of exhertion. It spun twice like a tomahawk before peircing the thick wood with a crash while simulteniously blocking them from lowering the locking bar; the blade also peirced clean through one knight's chest and partially amputated another knight's arm, leaving it hanging only by the bottom half of flesh.
Tyro collapsed to his hands and knees in the middle of the bridge sucking wind, exhausted by his sudden outburst of strength and ferocity. Two convicts helped him to his feet and pushed him forward towards the final remaining knight, apparently expecting him to continue his rampage and carry them through the battle to victory. The dark knight aimed a poleaxe at his face and thrust it forward from between the cracks of the door. Tyro fell to a crouch, and the convict directly behind him recieved the consequences of the thrust. Tyro came up from underneath the weapon's shaft and grabbed the knight in a bear hug. The knight pushed straight forward into him with a growl. As the grappling pair rolled backwards onto the bridge the convicts grabbed the the knight off from on top of him and pushed him into the water. He sank like a lead weight to the bottom, drowned. They helped Tyro to his feet once more. He stumbled into the main hall of the castle, which appeared to be some what of a temple. There was a small fountain in the middle, atop which a four-armed statue stood with water flowing down it's hands and into the pool. Tyro breathed laboredly as he fell into the pool and lay there, exhausted and wounded, having no other choice but to wait to rendevous with his partners. No thought of either victory or vengance crossed the berserker's adrenaline-overdosed mind. His body simply buzzed with a strange sensation of relaxation, heat, and cold at the same time as his chest heaved for breath. He simply felt one emotion: Relief. He was unaware of the severity his wounds, and the events of the last few minutes were an out of focus blur to him.
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