(006) A Rather Long Stroll

waysoftheearth wrote:
Flewellen the Plunderer, your adventure starts here.

Flewellen has been following an empty road in inclement weather for weeks now, putting his past crimes well behind him. In fact, he haven't seen a soul since he left a tiny hovel a few days back, which is all for the good. But he is beginning to feel a trifle concerned -- his supplies wouldn't last forever. Flewellen had hoped to purchase more food with his ill gotten gold, and this road was supposed to be well used merchant route... very strange indeed.

Around mid morning Flewellen spots a keep on a bluff circumnavigated by the road, but decides to leave the road to approach the Castillo in the hope of securing good meal and a nice hot bath. However, as he hacks his way through the scrub, he realises (to his disappointment) that the keep is in ruin. No bath then, he sighs...

As Flewellen draws nearer, he spies on the other side of the bluff what looks to be a work-crew assembling an encampment and a blockade along the road. Perhaps he was lucky to leave the road when he did, for they do not appear to have noticed him... yet.

And more! Flewellen instinctively lowers himself into the coarse heather as he notices a party of armed troops marching up from the blockade toward the tower. They are six or eight, and perhaps 200 yards from the summit, ascending the south face of the hill. Flewellen is also about 200 yards away, but on the western slope...

edit : added the word "weather"

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen, a rather small, but not terribly scrawny man man adorned as a traveler runs over to the marching troops. "Thank the gods you've found me!" he exclaims. "I was pegining to wondering if I would ever find anyone out here."

waysoftheearth wrote:
Flewellen breaks cover and runs toward the troops, but his enthusiasm is short lived indeed. No sooner has he hailed them than he realises all is not well. Why are do they all hunch over so? A few of the armed "Men" shield their eyes from the feeble sun and squint toward him as they hear Flewellen's calling, and immediately he realises these are not civilised Men at all! They are hunched and ugly, and have wide, fangy mouth with open in grim smiles as they see him.

Flewellen slows up some 60 yards from the troops, as the leader barks an order and a three break off from the rest and come loping toward him, spear and shields gleaming...

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen begins to run and into the trees he goes, calling for help all the way (assuming he doesn't get shot first). If he can, Flewellen is going to try and get a good look at the blockade to he if they are friend or foe.

waysoftheearth wrote:
Flewellen gets a good look at the blockade and encampment before he turns tail and hoofs it back toward the forest.

It looks as though the soldiery around the construction and the encampment are all of the same sort as the three ugly soldiers now pursuing him into the woods...

tombowings wrote:
Releasing that no one is coming to his aid, Flewellen is going to stop yelling for help and to try and to hide behind and large bush or tree.

waysoftheearth wrote:
After scampering a dozen yards or so, Flewellen realises that he is unlikely to reach the cover of the forest proper in a hurry -- it is simply too far off.

However, he spies a large mossy rock ahead of a dense thatch of heath. He skirts around the rock, then ducks in behind it and dares to glance back at his pursuers...

The three soldiers have gained a little, and are now perhaps 50 yards off, while the remaining troops seems to be continuing on toward the keep in the background.

Flewellen looks about quickly for somewhere to hide. There is a dark hole beneath the mossy boulder -- possibly the night shelter of some animal -- which he might be able to wriggle into, or else he could attempt to force his under the thickest part of the heath and hope to evade notice...

........\.road.....
..........----.....
...............\....
................\...
ruin.()..........|.# <-- encampment
.........TTT.....X.. <-- blockade
.................|..
..........T......|..
.................|..
........F......./..
............../....
............./.....
............|......
............|......
...WWWWW....\......
...woods.....\.....

T troops
F Flewellen

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen tries with all his might to wiggle himself, feet first, into the dark hole. "I hope there's nothing else inside here," Flewellen thinks to himself.

waysoftheearth wrote:
The hole is so low that Flewellen has to quickly strip off his pack and shove it in ahead of his feet, and then wriggle in after it.

Not a moment after he has got himself fully under the shadow of the great mossy stone, Flewellen hears the rhythmic thump and jingle of approaching feet and armour.

The feet seem to draw up beyond the boulder, then there is a thump and a clatter as someone (or something) leaps atop the rock. Flewellen hold his breath, though surely there is no chance the ugly troops could hear him hidden away as he is...

"Karn't see 'im," scowls a coarse voice from directly above.

"Well look 'arderrr," snaps another, harder voice, "Fat merrrchants don't vanish inta thin airrrah!"

"Nor bolt like feral kats," mutters the another voice from nearer, accompanied by footfalls crunching yet closer through the heath.

"Curse tha White Eye," swears the first voice, still above, "I kan't hardly see tha ground under my feet, less a rotten squab in tha brush!"

"Quit yer whining and leg it!" orders the snarly voice, sharply, "'E must 'ave gone this way!"

With that there is a clatter of jingling armour and feet, which patter away toward the forest, and then are lost altogether...

edit : spelling

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen doesn't move a muscle, but wonders what this "white eye" is that the creatures are cursing and wracks his brain for information.