Guild Wars_ Ghosts of Ascalon - Matt Forbeck [72]
Dougal hit the ground hard, his legs buckling underneath him, but he rolled with the impact. He lost his grip on the rope and feared for a moment that he would tumble back into the pool at the base of the falls, or into a deep crevasse hidden in the darkness. He came to a stop, though, against a wall of jagged boulders instead.
The charr warband that had been waiting there burst out from behind the rocks and surrounded him in an instant.
Dougal cried out in surprise and leaped to his feet. Before he could draw his sword, one of the charr knocked him back down again, sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt. Another leaped onto his back, pinning him there.
“Scream, human, and I rip out your throat,” the charr hissed in his ear.
Dougal wasn’t sure he could draw enough air to scream with anyhow, so he nodded in assent. He tried to get a count of how many charr there were but, lying facedown on the ground, it proved impossible. Most warbands had less than twenty members, to keep them mobile, but there were always exceptions.
Dougal tried to raise his head to get a better look, and a paw drove his face back into the hardscrabble dirt. He grunted in pain and felt the tip of a claw pressed into the softest part of his throat.
Kranxx came down the rope next, more slowly than Dougal had managed. He landed softly and peered into the dun-colored mists. “Dougal?” he called.
Following Dougal’s path across the dirt, the asura strode closer to the pool of shadow that the stand of boulders provided. “Don’t tell me that after all that you broke your leg coming down that rope.”
A pair of charr reached out from the shadows and pulled Kranxx in. If he had a chance to struggle, Dougal didn’t hear it. He could, however, hear the others still in the tunnel above, even over the splashing of the sewage into the rocky pool below.
“Bear’s buttocks!” Gullik said. “Give me a hand with retrieving my axe.”
“The rest of you go,” said Ember. “We will meet you below.”
A moment later, the rope began wriggling again, and Killeen descended to the ground. “Dougal?” she said, sounding not scared but concerned. “Kranxx? Where are you?”
Dougal tensed to ready himself for a yell, but the charr on top of him jabbed his neck with his claw. Dougal felt warm wetness slowly trickle out of a fresh cut on his throat and onto the ground.
Riona appeared next to the sylvari then. In an instant she had out her sword, and she stared warily into the surrounding darkness. “Dougal?” she said. “This is not in the slightest bit funny.”
The charr not holding down Dougal and Kranxx emerged from the surrounding fog and foliage then, showing Riona and Killeen that they had them surrounded on all sides, save for that of the fetid pool at their backs. Both women kept their hands away from their weapons and craned their necks to catch sight of Dougal or the asura.
“Yes!” Gullik shouted from above. “My axe is free!”
“Don’t kiss it,” Ember said in disgust.
One of the charr stood back and bellowed up at the pair in the tunnel. “We hear you up there, and we have your friends! Come down here now—and leave that grate open—or they die.”
At first, Dougal heard nothing but some urgent whispers between Ember and Gullik. Then she spoke: “I am Ember Doomforge, and I answer only to General Almorra Soulkeeper.”
“Ah! A charr? I should have guessed. I am Scorkin Bladebreaker of the Blade Warband, Blood Legion,” said the charr who’d spoken before. “Good work! We have your prisoners captive. Join us, and we will plan our assault on Ebonhawke together.”
Dougal squirmed under the charr holding him down but could not get free. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Ember might leave the sewer grate open behind them so that the charr could slip into Ebonhawke. His captor wrestled him into a sitting position.
Ember leaped from the tunnel and caught the rope where