Fall 34, 512 AV
Sarik sifted rather unenthusiastically through the jumbled rocks and dirt that remained of what he thought might have been an old house. Either it had been well picked over, though, or there hadn’t been much of anything there to begin with, because all he’d managed to find was some old nails. Not that there was anything wrong with nails. There was plenty of use for nails, and certainly he knew he could get a few coins for them someplace. Wouldn’t be the worst day he’d had, certainly. Still, it was hard to help hoping for something better. More interesting, at the very least. The scavenger shifted a few more of the old stones, and found a nail he’d missed. Into the bag it went.
Another few minutes of digging, and Sarik decided it was time to shove off and test his luck and remaining daylight elsewhere. There might have been something a couple hills over worth a look.
As he removed his attention from the ruin, he noticed three men approaching, entirely closer than he would like. In this area, anyone who didn’t make an attempt to announce themselves before approaching a stranger was almost certainly bad news. Further observation only reinforced this instinct.
The man in the middle was a large, rough looking figure with one hand on the rusted sword he carried on his belt. The first of his companions was somewhat older, with a short grey beard and an bow, loaded but undrawn, carried in front of him. This was not headed someplace Sarik though he was going to like. The third rose a head above his companions, a huge brute with a large oaken club, several nails pounded though it. A crude weapon, but one Sarik new could be used with devastating effectiveness. The trio were dressed in dull browns and greys, the garb of people who didn’t want to be easily picked out of the forest. He put a hand on the hilt of his own dagger beneath his cloak. Little good though trying to fight these three might do, he felt it would be worse to be found defenseless.
When it became apparent they had been noticed, the trio stopped. So they were definitely trying to take him unaware. The scavenger silently cursed his foolishness. Damn. Should have been keeping better lookout.
Sword spoke. “What you doing stealing off our land, boy? This is our property, nobody comes through ‘less they pay us passage.” It was an absurd claim, and everyone there knew it. Club couldn’t even keep his grin from showing. Sarik remained silent, both from fear of whatever unknown threat these bandits posed and because he had no idea what to reply to such a pronouncement. Frantically, he tried to guess at their intentions. If they just meant to rob him, it may be better to give them what they wanted and just get away.
“Look boy, just bring whatever you’ve found here, and we’ll call it even, how’sat?” He followed this up with the worst impression of a smile Sarik had ever seen. And suddenly he was certain these people meant to kill him. Something behind their eyes betrayed their intentions. And while blindly following your gut could get you killed as often as ignoring it, this was not a situation to take chances.
He would need to escape then. There was thick woods behind him to the right, leading down to a ravine. None of these brigands looked fast, he could probably lose them all down there. But it was twenty or thirty paces before any worthwhile cover. Bow would have at least one good shot at him, two if he was fast. And it wouldn’t take much to slow Sarik down enough to get him killed. He weighed the bag in his left hand. Nails were useful.
The three were apparently done waiting for him to answer, and began to advance again. Sarik whipped the dagger off of his belt and brought it up as menacingly as he could manage. They paused momentarily, but didn’t look particularly menaced. Or even surprised.
Sword spoke again. “Now, there’s no need for that-” but even as he was speaking, the man behind him was leveling his bow. Now or never. He flung the sack of nails as hard as he could in what he hoped would be a distracting way and took off running. A yell of surprise and pain from Bow seemed to say it had worked. Also, he wasn’t being shot. Not even daring a look back, he sprinted for the edge of the wood.
Behind him, he could hear the three giving chase. Two of them at least. An arrow clattering off a tree ahead of him seemed to mean the third had gotten himself together. But then he was in among the trees, and relatively safe. For now.
Then he was half running, half sliding down the hill, trying to keep from accidentally stabbing himself, but too scared to slow down. At one point, he almost crashed headlong into a tree, only barely managing to but a shoulder in the way first. It hurt, but he barely noticed over the adrenaline. Before long, he was at the bottom, hopping on mossy rocks over a small creek. Where now? Up the other side? No, bad idea. Even though the trees, that set him up too well to getting shot from the other side. Anyway, it would let them keep him in sight for longer. Downstream was the most direct path back to the city, so that was the way he turned.
Nearly half a bell later, from five hills over, he finally stopped to see if he was being followed. The hilltop offered a decent view of the immediate surroundings, and Sarik didn’t think he could run any more anyway. Breathing heavily and leaning against a tree, he looked out as far as he could see. As he scanned the hills and continued to see nothing out of the ordinary, his fear began to gradually wind down. Alright, that had been a bad situation, but he was past it now. There was still plenty of time to get back to town, and maybe-
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted but a noise from around the tree he was leaning against. Sarik froze. He listened intently, but heard nothing. Cautiously, he leaned his head around the tree-
-and stared straight into the murder filled eyes of the sword-wielding bandit. All pretense was gone now, and the man reacted first, with a two handed swing at Sarik’s head. Only his surprise saved him, as he recoiled and almost fell over backward. The sword carried forward and buried itself halfway into the tree. Striking back almost instinctually, Sarik’s dagger took advantage of the off balance attack and buried itself in his attacker’s gut.
For a split moment, both of them stared dumbly at the blade protruding from his stomach. Then, Sarik’s mind urged him back into action, and he was off in flight again down the hill. Behind him, he could hear Sword’s anguished shouts as he fell over, clutching his stomach.
He only made three hills, this time, before he half collapsed in a rocky hollow, gulping down rasping breaths. Sarik stared, still in shock, at the bloody dagger in his white knuckled hand. Over and over, the details of the fight on the hilltop ran unbidden through his head.
Sarik looked up when he realized dusk was falling. The thought drew him out of his haze. He stood stiffly, then realized he was still clutching the dagger, though he had lost most feeling in his right hand. Slowly, he managed to peel his fingers off and rub some life back into them. When he bent to retrieve the weapon, Sarik realized he should clean it off before returning to town. He wiped it down with some nearby leaves until the visible gore was gone. That would do for now. Still on edge, he slid it back onto his belt and headed for town, glancing over his shoulder and jumping at shadows most of the way. |
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by Sarik on March 1st, 2013, 3:58 pm 
