Den of Thieves

Knowing death is near and furious a Human boy has done it, Rasp screams out a battle cry trying to get to his feet.

The Orc is nearing striking distance, so Carr continues with the decision to run, sheathing the long-sword.

Seeing his comrade in trouble gives the Orc needed rage. Letting out a loud ringing battle cry he increases speed.

With longer strides the Orc starts to gain on Carr. Glancing back Carr sees he’s going to have to fight the Orc too. Looking forward sees the ravine drop off is just past a group of bushes he was about to run through.

Trying to stop himself, Carr crashes through the bushes. Clutching handfuls of branches, he stops before falling over the cliff edge, to the boulders below.

Only seeing Carr and moving too fast the Orc plows right into him taking both over the edge. Still holding the bush, its’ shallow roots are torn free, sending dirt and stones sailing with them.

The Orc and Carr scream out as they fall, clearing most of the jagged outcroppings of rock.

Landing badly feet first, on a pile of massive boulders near the bottom, the Orc’s shins snap like dry twigs. Immediately Carr and the clutched bush slam into the Orc’s chest. Knocked to a lower boulder the Orc’s thick skull is cracked open killing him.

Knocked unconscious from connecting with the Orc, Carr is thrown to the hard ground below. Slightly cushioned by the thick bush Carr is jarred conscious. Rolling onto his side dazed he gazes at the top of the cliff edge.

Aching all over Carr mumbles trying desperately to sit upright, “what just happened? Am I still all, here?”

As the sky begins to lighten the noisy pursuing males reach the cliff edge. Noticing the fresh patch of loose soil, they peer down into the dark ravine.

One male tosses a torch down, it falls straight missing the first level of jagged rock. The torch barely misses the second out-cropping. Clipping stone the torch head tumbles down, smashing on the lower boulders. The torch head bursts, scattering burning embers.

One piece of the burning torch lands against the Orc’s leg. Allowing the men above to make out the silhouette of the Orc.

They scan the area for the young rogue. The dark green and black of the scale armor mixed with the growth on the ravine floor keep him concealed.

Some of the males split off and out to scour the top of the plateau in case Carr went north.

One of the men surveying the ravine calls out, “that’s Bjeine laying there! I’m sure! I bet that punk is down there too. Best check the ravine.”

Some of the remaining males take off running looking for a safer way down.

Three of the older males, tired from the chase stay behind waiting for the sun to fully rise.

Spotting the tall reeds of the bog close by Carr crawls towards them and the ravine creek.

Reaching the creek Carr checks the surroundings. The sun having yet to crest the eastern mountains keeps him in the shadows. The older males atop the plateau are still looking for him. Far down the ravine voices of the guild members and guards can be heard but haven’t hit the ravine floor.

Still a bit dazed from the fall and late-night Carr sticks his face in the cool of the creek’s flowing water. Slowly coming up he contemplates two choices at hand. Jump over the narrow creek to scale the opposite ravine wall or navigate the bog.

Males enter the ravine from the guild walking quickly towards him. Making Carr’s decision easier, shakily standing and stepping back attempts to jump over the creek.

One of the men atop the plateau glimpses Carr’s silhouette jumping over the creek and turns his attention to the area. Clearing the creek Carr dashes for the opposite side.

Not sure he saw the young rogue the older male grabs an arm of one of the other two males pointing to the area. All three scan the area from above.

Reaching the other side Carr jumps to pull himself up the lower-level boulders. The older males spot him.

One yells to the group of males headed for the bog, “there! On the other side! Climbing the rocks!”

The group turns to look but can’t make out Carr in the shadows. They split up and begin running that way, some of the smaller and older males head back for the bridge.

Hearing that he’s been spotted Carr hastily scales up the rocks as high as possible. Removing the backpack goes for the rope and grappling hook to scale the rest of the cliff.

Glancing back sees the pursuers are scattered most have cleared the creek. He slings the pack over one shoulder and readies the hook.

On the plateau the older men are joined by some of the others that were searching the woods up there.

The same older male yells out, “he’s! Almost, half way, up the cliff!”

Twirling the hook Carr glimpses back the lagging males turn back to take the path to the top. Shit, I best hurry up.

Whipping the grappling hook as hard as possible it sails high but not to the top. Yanking on the rope the hook catches stone. Good enough for Carr to swiftly scale the rocky surface. Forcing the nearest pursuing males to turn back for the path.

High above, the old male yells, “he’s! Almost there!”

Pulling up onto the next level Carr wishes for a bow strong enough to silence those on the other side.

Taking the hook in hand Carr quickly tosses it up to the top. The hook catches a maturing tree trunk. Hastily he scales the cliff.

Seeing the young rogue reach the top most of the watchers on the other side scream out, “he’s made it!”

Snagging the hook and rope Carr winds it up while heading for the trees and out of their sight.

Finding the southern plateau’s trail Carr picks up the pace following it. The noise of the vengeful thieves and cut-throats his best incentive.

Reaching the section that over looks the bog Carr cuts west into the woods. Staying close to the thick webbing of the forest’s giant spiders.

Slowing his pace to a quick careful stroll Carr doubts the pursuing men will venture this way. He’s also praying no giant spiders find him either. With all the activity the spiders should stay to their woodland lair.

Working his way south through the tangled woods he has to stop and duck. A group, storms down the trail. Keeping still Carr assesses himself, aches are subsiding and wounds aren’t bleeding as much.

Looking at the recently acquired ring of healing on the finger he kisses it. Well, I guess you do work. I wonder if the vials are alright?”

Taking a break to catch a breath or two, checks his gear to see what didn’t survive the fall. The bow and its’ arrows appear to by okay. Checking the pack sees the canteen cracked near the top, but still has some water.

He has a drink before carefully returning it. Noticing the shirt, the vials of healing are in, is wet. He needs assurance it was the water from the canteen.

Unraveling the shirt Carr sighs, sadly one of the vials is cracked and half the potion remains. After drinking what’s left of the cracked solution Carr re-wraps the other vial.

The day becomes damp as a drizzly rain starts. Stealthily moving southerly through the woods, he has to constantly drop and hide as males continually make their way down the trail.

Waiting for a four-some of Orcs scanning the woods to pass, Carr notes that there was enough potion left to heal all aches and wounds.

As the grey afternoon approaches, he spends more time hiding in the overgrown brush than moving forward. The sun, not seen all afternoon, begins to set when he finally reaches the southern end of the plateau.

Waiting at the edge he watches as a group of very wet guild members gather to head back to the guild for the night. Six guild guards pair up and head out in different directions.

Observing the shivering males Carr smiles at how well the scale armor has been aiding already. Only chilly from the dampness he decides to sit under the trees until dark.

Darkness sets in quickly forcing the clouds to move on. Having been eerily quiet for the last hour Carr feels safe enough to continue south. Sliding into his cloak first to fend off the damp chills.

Using the broken magical glasses, he easily and silently makes it to the plateau trail and down.

Across the bog’s stream he follows the trial toward the Cirran river bridge, where Burt, Toad and Cal were first encountered.

In the wee hours he finds a quiet covered place near the stream.

Getting in a few hours of sleep Carr wakes hearing the rumbling of distant hooves, before dawn’s light.

On the trail a pack of riders nears. Scanning farther back sees the guild has resumed and widened the search as many males are spread out searching the land. Staying still long enough for the more than twenty riders to pass, he returns to following the creek bed.

Reaching a bend in the creek Carr can see a couple of the guild guards standing on a bridge downstream. The search party is nearing and he needs to make the second bridge to cross the Cirran River.

Ahead a large fallen Y-shaped branch gives Carr an idea. Seeing the branch isn’t rotted he drags it into the shallows of the creek. Gathering up sticks twigs and leaves he quickly fetters them to the large branch, packing the leaves in between.

A couple males searching the brush and creek bed approach, he swiftly obscures his tracks.

Snapping off a hollow reed to breathe through Carr moves the branch out. In a deeper part of the stream Carr slips underwater.

The two males round the trees to see the branch floating away thinking nothing of it. They’re too involved in their own banter while searching the brush.

Clutching onto the bottom of the large branch Carr finds footholds. Watching the water’s surface he endures the cold, watery ride breathing calmly through the reed.

The sentries posted on the bridge see the floating branch. They are more focused on scanning the surrounding woods for Carr.

Passing under the small wooden bridge Carr sees one of them look right down at him. Holding his breath wonders if the male can see him or not.

Clearing the bridge unnoticed he keeps focused on the sentries for as long as possible.

Out of sight Carr takes a needed breath.

Flowing water covers any noise Carr makes. The sentries occasionally glance at the branch as it nears the wider and faster moving Cirran River.

Entering the river, the faster moving current can be felt. Already cold he begins to tire from holding on. Mentally debating, keep floating on or make it for the opposite bank. Deciding to hang on until past the stone bridge.

Using the time to try and see as much as possible on the underwater journey. Passing over rocks, submerged trees, odd skeletal remains and many different fish. Some fish swim by inspecting Carr clutched onto the branch.

As the wide river bends towards the second bridge, Carr’s limbs begin to numb. Knowing the bridge is near and most certainly guarded, he re-grips digging in for just a while longer.