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Well, now this was just damned irritating.
He should have taken off sooner. He'd known that. Now the citadel was going to hell. The prison break that had started in the upper western prison wing had started to spread to the entirety of the prison, moving to other wings, and of course the lazy, unprepared membership of the guard corps was being killed by actual, ruthless murderers. Apart from their superior technology, many of those here had grown soft.
Not all, of course. And there were a few, most among the commanders of the prison, who even Kain would not want to take on lightly. They'd get this riot under control at some point, once they reorganized, and once some of the more vicious of the guards and commanders got into the mix. Right now though, people were being released left and right, fighting was breaking out in the middle of the halls, and in general, all chaos was spreading from the top down as prisoners attempted their escape. That was suicide, though. Even should they reach the base floor, there'd be an entire squad of crack enforcers under good leadership organized by then. Down was a dead end, at least via the main routes. There were other ways. Some could attempt escape via the towers, or they might stumble on some of the secret paths that lead out to the face of the prison and down to the plains far below. Risky, but no more so than going headfirst into waiting defenders.
There were the witless and then there were murderers, and he knew the difference. At one point he'd spotted the old man from Revan's cell. The man had paused, holding a club over his head as if he'd use it on Kain. Kain had only waved him off, instructing him on where to go to possibly escape the fortress. The old man had looked at him gratefully, he and his companions streaking off.
Then there were the murderers. There were indeed some bloodthirsty members here in the prison, few as notorious as Revan, but one that came to mind as among the most fierce. The man was Bernard Beltwater, but everyone among the guards and the prisoners called him Goobbue. The man stood a full foot taller than the tallest Hyur and was as wide as five men. They'd brought him in with multiple chains on his arms, which were secured behind his back. He'd been a slathering disaster of a man, face mauled, screaming obscenities. The guy had killed, and killed ruthlessly. And worst, he had it out for Kain. It had been Kain, after all, who'd been the man who'd put him in his cage, undid the locks and then fought the man unconscious after he'd tried to immediately bumrush Kain.
He shook his head, watching as two men rushed at him. Murderers. Their eyes were all full of rage and death, and they were looking to take it out on any guard they found. Beyond them were the bodies of a few men, slaughtered. The criminals were coming at him with swords and, sighing, Kain put both hands to the axe at his back and brought it downwards, loping off the head of the first man before putting the pommel of the weapon into other's jaw. There was a loud crack as bone broke, blood popping up into the air, Kain moving swiftly to bring his blade up. It caught the man through the neck as well, the body falling aside.
Just like training. He continued into the beckoning prison hall beyond, stepping into the maelstrom. Prison guards wrestled and fought against a horde of prisoners now armed and ready. At this point the match seemed about even, no thanks to the lousy training of the local constabulary. Kain, out of both his sense of honor and obligation to the contract he'd signed with the empire, as well as the small amount of affection he'd grown for these prison guards over the last few months, assisted in the brawl. Where a man was being put to his heels, Kain stepped in, downing the guilty prisoner. Where another was hard pressed with the blade, again Kain would move in.
It was everywhere though, the dark, dank halls becoming a chaotic mess of combat. He pushed his way through it all. He attacked no prisoner who did not attack him, unless out of some obligation to the men they fought, though he left some of the guards - the worst and most despicable of the lot - to their fates.
He wasn't sure what the rest of the guards were thinking he was up to, but he certainly wasn't pushing into the thickest of the riots in order to help. He was looking for a way out of the prison himself.
He should have taken off sooner. He'd known that. Now the citadel was going to hell. The prison break that had started in the upper western prison wing had started to spread to the entirety of the prison, moving to other wings, and of course the lazy, unprepared membership of the guard corps was being killed by actual, ruthless murderers. Apart from their superior technology, many of those here had grown soft.
Not all, of course. And there were a few, most among the commanders of the prison, who even Kain would not want to take on lightly. They'd get this riot under control at some point, once they reorganized, and once some of the more vicious of the guards and commanders got into the mix. Right now though, people were being released left and right, fighting was breaking out in the middle of the halls, and in general, all chaos was spreading from the top down as prisoners attempted their escape. That was suicide, though. Even should they reach the base floor, there'd be an entire squad of crack enforcers under good leadership organized by then. Down was a dead end, at least via the main routes. There were other ways. Some could attempt escape via the towers, or they might stumble on some of the secret paths that lead out to the face of the prison and down to the plains far below. Risky, but no more so than going headfirst into waiting defenders.
There were the witless and then there were murderers, and he knew the difference. At one point he'd spotted the old man from Revan's cell. The man had paused, holding a club over his head as if he'd use it on Kain. Kain had only waved him off, instructing him on where to go to possibly escape the fortress. The old man had looked at him gratefully, he and his companions streaking off.
Then there were the murderers. There were indeed some bloodthirsty members here in the prison, few as notorious as Revan, but one that came to mind as among the most fierce. The man was Bernard Beltwater, but everyone among the guards and the prisoners called him Goobbue. The man stood a full foot taller than the tallest Hyur and was as wide as five men. They'd brought him in with multiple chains on his arms, which were secured behind his back. He'd been a slathering disaster of a man, face mauled, screaming obscenities. The guy had killed, and killed ruthlessly. And worst, he had it out for Kain. It had been Kain, after all, who'd been the man who'd put him in his cage, undid the locks and then fought the man unconscious after he'd tried to immediately bumrush Kain.
He shook his head, watching as two men rushed at him. Murderers. Their eyes were all full of rage and death, and they were looking to take it out on any guard they found. Beyond them were the bodies of a few men, slaughtered. The criminals were coming at him with swords and, sighing, Kain put both hands to the axe at his back and brought it downwards, loping off the head of the first man before putting the pommel of the weapon into other's jaw. There was a loud crack as bone broke, blood popping up into the air, Kain moving swiftly to bring his blade up. It caught the man through the neck as well, the body falling aside.
Just like training. He continued into the beckoning prison hall beyond, stepping into the maelstrom. Prison guards wrestled and fought against a horde of prisoners now armed and ready. At this point the match seemed about even, no thanks to the lousy training of the local constabulary. Kain, out of both his sense of honor and obligation to the contract he'd signed with the empire, as well as the small amount of affection he'd grown for these prison guards over the last few months, assisted in the brawl. Where a man was being put to his heels, Kain stepped in, downing the guilty prisoner. Where another was hard pressed with the blade, again Kain would move in.
It was everywhere though, the dark, dank halls becoming a chaotic mess of combat. He pushed his way through it all. He attacked no prisoner who did not attack him, unless out of some obligation to the men they fought, though he left some of the guards - the worst and most despicable of the lot - to their fates.
He wasn't sure what the rest of the guards were thinking he was up to, but he certainly wasn't pushing into the thickest of the riots in order to help. He was looking for a way out of the prison himself.
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