Varrus the Ethical wrote:Moving as fast as he can down the tunnel, Roald climbs up the ladder and then closes the trap door after Filbert make's his ascent. "Go, Jester! I'll deal with the men in the tunnels."
Roald draws his sword and levels the point at the trap door.
Roald waits in the dying light of Filbert's makeshift torch, listening for sounds of men moving, breathing in the tunnel...
Last edited by ewancummins on Sun Oct 21, 2012 11:37 am, edited 1 time in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Varrus the Ethical wrote:Roald lowers his sword to the lip of the door.
Just as the light Filbert left gutters and dies, Roald hears scrabbling in the cellar. The door begins to lift...
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Far down the road the Huntsman rides at a steady pace, he rides towards home..
The Huntsman rides alone under the stars.
After he crosses a low stone bridge that spans a little stream, he hears the soft, almost silent beat of wings, and looks up to see a huge bird flying above him-- the great owl?
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Varrus the Ethical wrote:Roald places the tip of his sword in the face of the first one to climb up the ladder and says, "Hello there, who might you be?"
The man starts to raise his sword, stops, dry swallows, and finally manages to choke out a few words-
"Uhhh...rat ratcher?"
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Dominica makes her as fast as she can, to her Inn. "I'll need a horse and wagon, now. No questions. And help me down with my belongings. I'll leave but shall return in the future."
Roald stops his swing just short of the "Rat-Catcher". Holding his sword in front of his face. "Well I'm a big man with a large sword. So tell me, are all your friends coming across the river rat catchers to? Or just rats?
"Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it."
tarlyn wrote:Dominica makes her as fast as she can, to her Inn. "I'll need a horse and wagon, now. No questions. And help me down with my belongings. I'll leave but shall return in the future."
The master of the house, an older man man with dirty gray hair all over his obese body, answers his door nude except for a loose, unbelted muskrat robe.
"'Whauuu?"
He rubs sleep from his eyes.
"Whores? What whores? In a waggon? Uhhhh"
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Varrus the Ethical wrote:Roald stops his swing just short of the "Rat-Catcher". Holding his sword in front of his face. "Well I'm a big man with a large sword. So tell me, are all your friends coming across the river rat catchers to? Or just rats?
''Um, neither. We are getting paid for this job. The Duke wants us to take the city fo..ahhhh!"
The man falls back down into the cellar. As the light dies, Roald hears a voice under the trapdoor-
"Thus perish all traitors."
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Roald slams the trapdoor shut and knocks the largest, heaviest piece of furniture he can find on top of it. He then try to find anything that can burn in the dark.
"Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it."
Varrus the Ethical wrote:Roald slams the trapdoor shut and knocks the largest, heaviest piece of furniture he can find on top of it. He then try to find anything that can burn in the dark.
Baubb's bed isn't very large, but it's the start of a barricade, at least.
Full night has fallen, and Roald gets little light from the open window...
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Roald searches for a light source, or at least materials to build a fire.
He's rummaging through a chest in the dark with one booted foot planted firmly on the overturned bed to keep the trap door shut as men below batter and curse.
Something snaps onto the forefingers of his left hand, biting into the skin. It hurts.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
tarlyn wrote:Dominica makes her as fast as she can, to her Inn. "I'll need a horse and wagon, now. No questions. And help me down with my belongings. I'll leave but shall return in the future."
The master of the house, an older man man with dirty gray hair all over his obese body, answers his door nude except for a loose, unbelted muskrat robe.
"'Whauuu?"
He rubs sleep from his eyes.
"Whores? What whores? In a waggon? Uhhhh"
"Go back to bed, sir. Sorry to have woken you. It won't happen again." She hurries upstairs to her room. She smiles as she sees the window. Opening it, she hurries to one of her chests. Tying it securely with a rope, then the other, she moves to the window and lowers them out slowly so as not to break them. She looks to make sure noone is around.
Hurrying she grabs her backpack and exits the room. AS she exits she drops a few coins on the floor for the man and closes the door behind her. She hurries to the stable and steals the pony and wagon.... hurrying as fast as the mule can to her chests. From there she heads to the Castle Keep pronto.
