Vengeance

The Blood Scythe and his forces occupied the entire block, along with the surrounding areas. The most important part, the springs mouth, sat right in his courtyard. Besides the taverns nearby, Marks only income was through a single casino. However, despite it being prime time there were barely any people here.

Richard mulled over it for a moment, concluding that this definitely wasnt due to the incident at the arena earlier in the evening. News of that definitely wouldnt have spread so quickly. It seemed like the business wasnt going well for some time, which should be why hed sent Sam to collect a toll outside Camp Bloodstone. With Marks personality and the way he handled affairs, it would be a surprise for him to ever improve the casinos profits.

Bloodstone wasnt considered particularly big it took but a few minutes at full gallop for Richards army to reach Marks base, and although the advancing soldiers alarmed nearly half the camp the attack was so sudden that the half-orcs were barely alerted before Richard and his troops were long gone.

At the entrance to Marks base, everyone was just dismounting as the trolls made it over as well. Medium Rare sped up with a wave of Richards hand, throwing himself towards the entrance with a bellow. He leapt up as he was about to make contact, ruthlessly smashing his hammer into the gates. A loud rumble sounded out as they gave way, detaching from the frame before flying out into the yard. Smoke and dust rose from the ground.

As he stood before the main entrance, the remnant page of the Book of Holding appeared in Richards hand. Five direwolves charged up in the next moment, brutally attacking anything in sight that was moving. Cries and screams of alarm filled the air, turning the entire courtyard into a mess.

The sentries along the wall had been dozing off. The attack was so quick that it was only now that they realised something was amiss. However, two arrows screeched through the darkness and buried into their throats, stopping them from shouting out. Richard calmly stood at the gates and cast Natures Beckon, spawning five more wolves that caused even more chaos.

As the pack of ten wolves pounced around in the yard, Richard started to chant the spell for the all-too-familiar fireballs. However, several of his men started to look at him with peculiar expressions.

Magic affected everyone in a melee, including the allies of the caster. However, Richards tactic allowed him to cast without restraint. This was not the first time this had happened an array of delayed fireballs engulfing even his own summons. It was likely that someone unfamiliar with him would suffer disastrous damage if they charged forth, but the reward was as great as the risk.

The target of the fireballs this time was the second floor of Marks residence. Three fireballs all landed around the same area, detonating at the same time and turning the Blood Scythes cries of surprise into calls for help. Waves of fire engulfed the entire courtyard in a flash, even as tongues of flames spewed out of the windows.

As well-built as Sam was, he trembled as he stared at the scene before him. It wasnt long before his quivering legs gave way, leaving him to land on his bum.

Richard pointed into the courtyard once the fire died down, and his men threw themselves inside ruthlessly, starting a massacre. Dozens of wind wolves circled out back, leaping over the walls to attack the enemies from behind.

A few minutes later, the battle cries slowly started to fade. Marks tall, sturdy silhouette appeared in the courtyard, staring at Richard who was by the gates. Beams of hateful rage shot out of his eyes, and with a scythe in each hand he rushed towards Richard after roaring wildly.

The Blood Scythe staggered with every step he took, his clothes already soaked crimson. Yellow light flashed over him before he could take more than two, a spell from Tiramisu that slowed him to a third of his original pace. Dozens of weapons then stabbed into his body, the Shepherd of Eternal Rest plunging into his back.

Right before he drew his last breath, however, Mark roared and took a few more strides to everyones surprise. However, a sacred flame descended upon him from the sky, and he immediately screamed in agony. He staggered aimlessly a few more steps, before collapsing head first into the ground. The weight of his body caused him to slide forward quite a bit, stopping right at Richards feet.

A snow-white handkerchief slowly floated down onto Marks head, and immediately after Richard stepped down as he grinded his feet on his fallen foes skull.

Flowsand happened to walk out of the yard at that moment, witnessing the scene. She whispered into Richards ear, assuring him, Theres no enemies around you now, you dont have to do this

Richard stopped what he was doing, and without even batting an eyelid quietly reached out and pinched her buttcheeks with all his strength.

However, Flowsand didnt cry out as she spoke calmly, These are all our men. You dont need to do this either

This started to stifle Richards breathing once more, even though hed just gone back to normal a while ago.

The battle was long over, but the raging fires continued to engulf Marks two-storey residence. Olar lugged a huge chest out from amidst the blaze, also carrying about a dozen sacks of all sizes on his person. The elf was extremely sensitive to the scent of wealth. Even the hidden stores of experienced nobles could not escape him, let alone the Blood Scythe who had naught but muscles in his brain.

He walked over to Richards side, handing him the chest before kicking Mark, This fellow is a pauper! He doesnt have more than 300 coins!

Richard turned to Gangdor, How many survivors?

Shrugging, Gangdor replied, Most of the survivors are amongst those who ran at first chance. Theres only dead and crippled people in the courtyard, and they couldnt run if they wanted to. Forget about captives, boss.

Richard realised the hidden meaning behind Gangdors words, finding that there had been a problem with himself. Since he was already at the Bloodstained Lands, there was no need for him to capture enemies and turn them into his soldiers. Gold and slaves would work much better.

Richard agreed with a nod, pointing at Marks body, Alright. Bring him along, Were heading back!

Everyone mounted, and Marks body was thrown on the back of a horse as well. They made their way back to the inn without a hurry, noticing a wave of heavy and chaotic footsteps in the distance. Half-orc soldiers came out of the corner, stopping Richard in his tracks. These were warriors of Bloodstone, the core force maintaining order in the camp.

Theyd actually made it quite quickly, but all they could do was stand in Richards path. Hed already finished what hed set out to do. Before Mark could treat his wounds after escaping to his base, Richard had already taken his troops out to kill him. Of course, this wouldnt have been possible without Sams help, since he knew Mark inside out. Without the fellow leading the way, Richards troops would not have acted so quickly, and it would have required more effort to win the battle.