Cynraede grasped the edge of the rock, forcing himself up and over the sharp ledge with a growl as he rolled over onto his back upon reaching the top of the mountain. His armor stained crimson from the arrow that pierced his soft leather chest piece, the barbs stuck deep within his soft flesh. He lingered only for a moment before standing and continuing to run, forcing himself onwards with guttural grunts as he pushed through the pain. It would not be long till his enemies found the pitfalls that lay before them as their quarry dashed to the tree line, where the shadows seemed the darkest.
He threw himself behind a tree, drawing a bolt and hissing softly as he pulled the string of his crossbow back, notching it and setting the bolt along its path. He turned, his crossbow raised as he waited for the men to enter the forest, where he had the advantage and cover of night.
"He can't be to far, there is blood on the ground. Find him, spill his guts and spread his coin!" The man who had just set foot into the forest yelled as his men ran recklessly into what they believed to be the fray.
Cyn hunkered down quietly, he could feel his lungs burning for air as his heart raced and pumped hard, sending blood flowing through out his body. He waited until they all had passed him, leaving their leader behind in their foolish attempt to rush one man. He stopped, holding still for a moment before looking over and seeing the man moving in the same direction of his comrades.
He attempted to turn, but found it to late as the cold steel found its deep bite between his ribs, repeatedly piercing his sternum until his body had stopped writhing and had fallen to the cold ground, lifeless. Cyn raised his hood covered face, looking out into the forest where the rest of the men had run off to. "I don't have time for this.." He hissed under his breath, a fowl displeasure taking over his face as he was disgusted with these men causing him to loose track of his friend whom he had been following. They must pay, and blood was the only currency that was acceptable. Because of them, she could be dead.
Cyn looked down, kicking the mans corpse over and patting him down for anything he might could use before returning his blade across the small of his back. He checked his cross bow, and with a nod silently dashed to find the remaining men, after all, they were heading the same way he was. He lowered his head, softly whispering to the night.
