Gareth
As the blade pierced the warlord's throat, Gareth twisted the blade to ensure that it would not get stuck, and then he pulled it out. Blood fountained from the wound, and Gareth ended up looking more like a butcher than a blacksmith. He looked up to regard the man who had kept most of the barbarian's attention.
"I'm Gareth," he said, noting the similarity between their names. Though in truth, the name 'Gareth' wasn't even his own - it was a fake name, made up as part of his cover. Just as he had died his hair from black to blond, grew out a moustache, and had a mage alter his nose. Yet he had gone by that name for so long that it felt just as natural as his real name. Still, he longed for the day when the Kinshra would liberate Asgarnia, and he could go back to using his true name.
As Garrett went off to carry the woman to safety, Gareth knelt down, lifted the barbarian's arm, and ripped the dagger out. He wiped both of his weapons off on the barbarian's mail, and then returned them to their respective sheathes.
That done, Gareth examined the battlefield, and immediately noticed a guard who was barely alive, but had his arm cut off just below the elbow. Such a man would never be able to raise a blade in Falador's defense again, not without magic that was beyond his means to access or afford. In short, it was the perfect opportunity. He could save this man, and therefore bolster his image in the eyes of the town, while at the same time he wouldn't be giving the White Knights back any soldiers.
The man's breath was shallow, his skin pale. A white knight lay dead nearby. Gareth ripped off a long scrap of cloth from the White Knight's cape and used it to bind the bleeding stump. Then, he hefted the guard's remaining arm over his shoulder, and began to follow the distant form of Garrett.
Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.
05-Apr-2019 05:39:24