This story was written by Sylas Iorundr
Before it was done he had to decide why. What was the reason he so badly needed to leave? He could live a life almost like anyone else. He was allowed to carry a weapon, he could wander where he pleased and even have his own possessions… But it was still a prison, a cage with almost endless rooms, but it still had walls.
It was decided.
After armoring his master well over a hundred times he could easily fit the armor on to himself, the same dented and repaired, scratched and greyed armor that was used to take him from his home. And with it he was free.
Before leaving he had to do something while all the other guards were away at they’re mutual masters wedding. He needed to take the swords, Arondight and Mystletainn. Two of the swords he had heard so many legends and stories about.
It would have been smarter to wait until he had the swords to don the armor but it was to late for that now so he loudly clanked down the empty hall usually so full of hurrying servants and slaves to the treasury.
He had the swords and now it was time to go but… something seemed odd, not that it was too quiet but it was not quiet enough. They were back! But they shouldn’t have come back yet, they couldn’t have known!
The first guard ran in and saw him and he charged. Instinctively he struck out with Mystletainn and the guard fell. It was time to leave. He ran and fought through the guards whom he had grown fond of over the time he spent here and now stood in his way as obstacles to his salvation. Even with their better training they stood no chance against him in full armor and his sheer brute strength.
It wasn’t until he reached the edge of a large forest that he stopped. This proved to be a mistake as his maste- no the knight had time to catch up with a small number of guards all carrying longswords or arming swords. Even with all of the guards and the knight they could not do more than dent and scratch his armor.
Annoying. They had been pounding on his armor since the first guard he killed, even if they could not hurt him it became more and more annoying. He could not run without risk of exposing the unarmored armpits or other weak spots in the armors defense. Suddenly he remembered all of the things he had been taught as an Ulfhednar and something finally snapped.
From that point onward it was simply a mess of blurred red images. The Ulfhednar fought with complete disregard to the oncoming injuries and dents in the armor, the blood that could be his or his opponents, all that mattered was that he stayed free. The unfortunate knight and his guards finally understanding the true danger of caging a berserker as it liberated their heads from their bodies and arms from their shoulders. The last image the knight saw as he tumbled down a hill into the woods was the Ulfhednar bringing Arondight to his neck.
P.S. After Kane sticks this on the site I intend to make a mission that takes place right after this where Sylas meets Terrasylvae for the first time.