Withers moved fast, the few of his boys who remained and were willing to do a little blade work behind him. Anyone they encountered who crossed paths with them was quickly silenced. Squires and servants were not hardened warriors, but they were at war. He grimaced and lowered the body of one of the men he'd shared shared a tent with on the journey to the ground, his dagger had entered the mans lungs leaving no air for him to cry out. WIthers was a master of disguise and information gathering, this kind of work was something he stayed as far away from as possible, after all, those who engaged in bladework in the night often died to bladework in the night. But now that really didn't matter when the Hyser were as likely to run you through as hang you. The choice of death only changed on whether it was their fanatics, their military, or their criminal gangs who finally caught you. Fanatics of course, chose to hang you and run you through.

A squire to one of the rune nights stepped out from behind a wagon and one of Withers daggers took him in the throat. Withers snorted, knife throwing was just a trick but for those who don't know how to duck it would do. His men followed behind, and anyone who came up behind him was their buisness. Ahead was the prison cart, a wooden cart with iron bars set all around the edges and a wooden roof, well made, anti magic runes carved everywhere, and a iron lock with the only key in the hands of the inquisitor. Withers eyes trailed past the prison cart to the carriage just ahead of it. He had seen the priest fly off, or what he hoped was the priest, and the inquisitor should have gone for briox like a hound to a fox. He sincerely hoped that neither of them came back. With a wave of his hand he led his men up to the cage, two pushed a water skin and blanket through the bars to the shocked inhabitant. WIthers himself kept a lookout as another went to work on the lock. Deft experienced hands moved fast, and as the man worked the girl in the cage managed to speak. "Wh...Who are you?" the voice spoke, broken and ragged from disuse and dehydration. Withers glanced back at her "We are members of the black gang" he replied before quickly turning back to his watch.

Of course the moment he'd glanced away was the moment a group of soldiers would arrive. Withers cursed as the soldiers didn't even slow down their charge at noticing the "servants" picking the lock on the cage. They unleashed a battle cry and charged, two of them appeared to be normal soldiers, but Withers paled in horror as the other three moved too fast for his eyes to track. A fan of knives flew from his hands but he knew it wouldn't be enough, no normal man could face a rune soldier and live. Withers watched death come for him in a blur of steel, and then a spray of blood colored the ground before him red. The rune soldier who had been leading the charge collapsed his body sliding to Withers feet from momentum alone and behind him the cage a voice managed to croak out "Brother". Withers blinked and exhaled as he looked at the man who had saved his life, again, "Boss...it took you long enough". Tommy Caulder looked over his shoulder and smiled before replying "looks like i made it just on time".

Tommy turned from the cage and focused his gaze on the soldiers. He could feel his blade humming in his hand, a vibration, a yearning for violence, and on some days he swore it vibrated to the tune of some of the bawdier dock side sailor songs but this wasn't one of those days. He knew what the blood red blade in his hands wanted, and today, he would give it to it. The first kill had been easy, he had taken them by surprise and the fool had charged straight into his blade, going too fast to turn when it slipped between helm and cuirass of the rune soldier. Now he had two rune soldiers who would not be so kind as to walk upon his blade and two normal soldiers who could be dangerous if simply ignored. So he wouldn't ignore them, a grin broke out on his face as Tommy stepped forward, a grin that did nothing to the cold death his eyes promised. The common soldiers braced themselves, the rune soldiers readied to attack and Tommy turned and ran. The soldiers hesitated for an instant in shock as he turned and ran, not between the wagons or away, but rather up the side of the cage, a leap from the top of it sending him over the heads of the soldiers. The rune soldiers turned to follow him, and the normal soldiers died as he landed between them and rose, a quick spin as he stood and two heads flew through the air, a thrust from a rune soldier caught only empty air as Tommy sidestepped and his blade flashed at the others eyes. He retreated, and the air was filled with the whistling of blades on the wind.

Withers ignored the battle, either Tommy won vs two rune soldiers alone or they all died. The rest of them here weren't even qualified to watch, well excluding the lass in the cage. But she didn't have a job to do so she was free to watch the show. Withers grimaced as he watched Ole Ruthy work the lock, he had the fastest hands in the gang, but that still seemed impossibly slow with a whirlwind of blades right behind them and the screams of the dying the ahead of them. Withers glanced back at the blurring shapes behind them and then grimaced again as a spray of blood painted the area, the figures were still moving so it wasn't a fatal wound, but the rapid motions had painted the area with the spray, and to make sure Ruthy didn't get slowed down he'd had to stand between the fight and the lockpick. Withers wiped the blood from his face and prayed to the first magi that Tommy finished them off.

Tommy was grinning like a madman, the blade was alive, pulsing in his hand. He step back to avoid a thrust, his blade sliding like a vipe to pierce at the mans wrist, forcing him back as his fellow soldier advanced, a shield bash driving right for Tommy. He sidestepped cassually and lashed out, his blade driving for the lightly armored space below the armpit, a blade deflected his blow and he turned the force of his blade turning into a chop that forced the other soldier back.Tommy couldn't kill them quickly, not without being injured in return, but they couldn't interfere with his men working on the cage either. Should the soldiers be distracted for a moment then that red blade would slip past their defenses, one had already payed the price, only the inhuman recovery abilities of a rune soldier allowing him to survive the slit throat that he had gained for glancing away. Tommy deflected a flurry of sword blows from both soldiers, the attacks sliding off of his blade like he was guiding them in a dance. As the flurry of blows climaxed, a cresendo of steel sliding upon steel, Tommy slide his blade through the eye of one of the rune soldiers, and then swung down and curved his blade, cutting a J though the mans face and spine. The blade exiting just in time to allow him to dance away from the other soldier, using his fellows falling body to buy just a moment when the soldiers blade was at an awkward angle, unable to cut at Tommy with the corpse in the way. And so he too died as Tommy severed his spine before he could bring either sword or shield around.

Behind him Tommy heard a click, and the sound of the signal horn being blown. He turned in time to see some of his men helping a ragged and thin figure out of the cage "Marian" his voice whispered and he strode toward her. The blade was quiet in his hand, even it seemed to sense a gravity to the situation as that thin figure grabbed her big brother in a hug and broke down crying. Withers looked at the scene awkwardly, after a few false starts he finally coughed violently and said "Boss, we really need to go". Tommy looked up from soothing his sister with a grimace and nodded "We don't know how things are going on the magi's side, its best if we get to the hideout as soon as possible" Tommy picked Marian up and started to run, Withers and his men behind him. If Briox and Irela could handle the inquisitor and magi priest then the mission could be conisdered as perfectly executed...if they could handle them.