[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Scowling at the impudence of Kandel's response, Lotar hastily exited the Inn and headed towards the marketplace where a few random stalls were still set up despite the lateness of the hour. He stopped to purchase a number of items, pots and pans and blankets and other supplies that would be needed in greater numbers for those who would soon be arriving from the Weather Hills.

The bandits had plenty of cash to get them through the night. Many of the farmhouses they'd pillaged had small lockboxes with copper and silver coins and even an occasional gold piece. Earlier that evening, he'd handed out money to the others in the party and told them they could spend it as they saw fit, as long as they could manage to strap the goods onto their horse's back.

He heard his own stomach growl and wished that he could tarry at the Inn and order some dinner. It had been a long time since he'd had a proper meal, something more than simple camp fare. But time was too valuable to waste. There was no sense sitting and eating when he could be gathering needed information. He threw down a tuppence for a hot bun at one of the stalls and wolfed it down in two gulps, but his stomach continued to tell him that he was very hungry. Finally, Guthwine stopped to barter with a huntsman who had packed up his things and was just trudging homeward, persuading him to part with half a side of venison for a goodly sum of cash.

The trip home would be a long one. With each of the men purchasing supplies, weapons and other trinkets, the horses would be hard pressed to go any faster than a walk. They would probably not see the camp again till an hour or two before sunrise. Guthwine promised himself that, once they'd gotten out onto safer ground, he'd let the men stop and prepare a hearty meal of venison steaks to get them through the night.

The rest of the time, he spent wandering around, mentally memorizing the layout of the streets. He slipped into the guardhouses to have a look at things and see how many weapons were stockpiled there. He madea note of the fact that there was a good amount of tar that could be heated up and hurled over at the invaders. They'd have to take precautions against that.

These sentry points were interspersed at strategic points along the gates and throughout the entire city. Strange that the Breelanders would go to such trouble, yet let a hole in the hedge wide open. Perhaps, it was what he'd heard from one or two folk along the street. The hobbits were so inept that they couldn't tell a good piece of work from a bad one.

Guthwine made only one other major purchase, rapping on the door of a metalsmith, to strike up a conversation on the dangers of the bandits and purchase a new set of daggers, the best he'd ever had, that were inlaid with fine silver. When questioned by the fellow as to what he would do with them, he told the man not to worry, that he'd find a good use for them in the battle that was soon to come. At one point, the smith's children ran into the shop laughing and playing, something that made Guthwine feel uncomfortable. He'd just as soon think of the Breelanders as fat and ungrateful pigs who did not deserve the riches falling on their heads, not as devoted husbands and fathers.

Then he wandered back towards the appointed meeting place, hoping the others had bought the needed supplies for the arriving refugees and also managed to get additional information that would make the assault on the city a little easier.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:09 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]