Rune Keeper

Siege

             Skyra whimpered on the floor of her dingy cell, every limb feeling as if it were stretched beyond repair. Her eyes were glazed, bleary with sweat, sleep, and blood.

Her fur was matted and knotted, as she had stopped caring to fix it after the fourth torture session. She had shed her human form in hopes it would be easier to fight back, only to find the conditions of her captivity had worsened.

The guards weren't exactly improving the situation either. She had the misfortune of being guarded by goblins, who were, in fact, notorious for their harshness towards prisoners. She could believe it too, having been starved a total of six times due to them having had forgotten to feed her.
            
Her one consolation was the hell-hound the foul creatures kept. In the true goblin practice, the animal was kept as a ferocious guard dog, a last resort should prisoners escape.

Unfortunately, the hound seemed to be being treated in the same manner she was. It was a gaunt creature, with ribs jutting out from its sides, and eyes that spoke of years of mistreatment.
             
Skyra felt an odd sense of camaraderie with this hell-hound, often slipping it larger portions of whatever food she did actually receive. Thus, the pair had become friends, united in their mutual fight for survival. If Mason didn't show up soon though, Skyra was going to be fighting a very short battle.

                                                            ...

Mason and Jaz slunk along the wall; Jaz with her stave at the ready. As they reached the corner, she signaled for Castor to fly ahead and scout the place. The phoenix obliged, hopping from wall torch-to-wall torch as he scanned for guards. Spying two bored goblins at the main entrance, he buzzed with amusement at the lax defense. He quickly made his way towards the awaiting teens.

  "There's two of 'em, both goblins, both easy marks. I suspect they're already half asleep as it is," the fire demon hissed into their ears. Jaz nodded.

            "Mason," she whispered, "Can you, you know, knock them out. Sleep spell or something?" Jaz made a popping motion with her hands, and Mason shot her a look.

He shrugged, carefully looking around the corner. Castor was right, both guards looked comically bored.

          Focusing, he reached for the Ancestors. 'Little help, guys?' He mentally poked around, like fishing in a lake.

Fiona, the mist horse from before, answered his call. 'Hello again, Mason.' Her calming voice was like warm honey. 'In this particular situation, you may want to use my Rune Stone. Channel the storm winds in a specific direction. Focus, or it won't be accurate, and you'll likely fell a tree.'

          Swallowing hard, Mason mulled that thought over in his head before heeding the horse's advice. He searched for his connection to the Moonstone, channeling the energy through himself. He suddenly became conscious of every breeze in the air, and of every drop of dew on every leaf. Breathing in deeply, he launched a small burst of wind at the first guard- and missed him by a mile. True to Fiona's word, a faint crash could be heard in the distance.

          The goblins looked up briefly, exchanged a look with one another, then shrugged and returned to leaning lazily on their spears. Jaz gave Mason an unimpressed stare. "Are you kidding me? That was pathetic!" she hissed.

            "Like you could do any better," Mason retorted sharply. "Hmph," snorted Jaz. The young assassiness darted around the wall, ducking into shadows. She made her way swiftly towards the goblins. Shooting between the pair, she delivered two sharp blows to each goblins' head before they knew what had happened. Jaz shot Mason a victorious grin. "I win," she stated.
           
Flying past the teens, Castor lighted upon a brazier. "You're both fantastic, I get it. Now move it, kiddos," he commanded.