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piosenniel · 07-20-2003, 03:19 AM

Child's post

When the warning bell first tolled over the camp, Stoatie pulled himself out of bed and made some feeble efforts to organize the ruffians' defenses. But it was apparent that things weren't going quite the way he'd planned. Peering through the shadows towards the chaos that reigned near the main entry gate, he'd caught a brief glimpse of Mithadan battling his way into the plantation with a contingent of hobbits fighting at his side.

His first reaction was disgust and disbelief. What kind of man would aid these miserable pint-sized runts? Certainly no one he knew. But, as the scene about him came into sharper focus, Stoatie acknowledged that Mithadan had not only played a critical role in this attack, but was likely responsible for engineering Ferny's disappearance. Boss had been captured or killed. There was no reason for Stoatie to stay here and die protecting a gang of men who meant absolutely nothing to him.

Pulling the edge of his hood over his face, he cautiously threaded his way back over pathways that were congested with combat and bloodshed. With all the tumult going on, he slipped unnoticed into Ferny's lair, kneeling on the floor and desperately fumbling in the dark to uncover the loose floorboard that he knew was there. A few moments of groping alerted him to the spot where the floor wobbled slightly. Stoatie grabbed hold of the end of the board, prying it up with a fireplace poker, and yanked the whole length free. Reaching inside the hole with both hands, he drew out his prize, a heavy locked box with gold and silver coins that Boss had used to pay the men and reimburse merchants for their supplies. Hearing the reassuring jangle of money inside, he tucked the coffer underneath his arm without a second glance and made his way outdoors. He raced to the stables through the growing clouds of smoke and fumes, hastily tossed a saddle over one of the horses and charged headlong out the gate.

Stoatie knew exactly where he wanted to go. There was an old hideout for Ferny's men tucked away in the South Downs. He frantically spurred his mount onward, charging through groups of combatants, and jumping over downed hayricks and farm equipment overturned in his path. Once he left the bloodiest part of the melee behind, he continued riding eastward at a hard gallop for a good ten minutes or more until he reached the eastern boundary of the plantation, an area that was uninhabited and framed with fields of pipeweed and scrub vegetation.

For some unknown reason, the fences here were higher than those surrounding the rest of the encampment; they towered a good seven feet in the air, strong and sturdily built so that it was impossible for a horse to jump over them or kick them down. Stoatie dug into his pocket pulling out a key to unlock the heavy iron gate, then relocked it securely, speedily riding south and east in the direction of the Downs.

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

07-20-2003, 03:19 AM	#72
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Child's post When the warning bell first tolled over the camp, Stoatie pulled himself out of bed and made some feeble efforts to organize the ruffians' defenses. But it was apparent that things weren't going quite the way he'd planned. Peering through the shadows towards the chaos that reigned near the main entry gate, he'd caught a brief glimpse of Mithadan battling his way into the plantation with a contingent of hobbits fighting at his side. His first reaction was disgust and disbelief. What kind of man would aid these miserable pint-sized runts? Certainly no one he knew. But, as the scene about him came into sharper focus, Stoatie acknowledged that Mithadan had not only played a critical role in this attack, but was likely responsible for engineering Ferny's disappearance. Boss had been captured or killed. There was no reason for Stoatie to stay here and die protecting a gang of men who meant absolutely nothing to him. Pulling the edge of his hood over his face, he cautiously threaded his way back over pathways that were congested with combat and bloodshed. With all the tumult going on, he slipped unnoticed into Ferny's lair, kneeling on the floor and desperately fumbling in the dark to uncover the loose floorboard that he knew was there. A few moments of groping alerted him to the spot where the floor wobbled slightly. Stoatie grabbed hold of the end of the board, prying it up with a fireplace poker, and yanked the whole length free. Reaching inside the hole with both hands, he drew out his prize, a heavy locked box with gold and silver coins that Boss had used to pay the men and reimburse merchants for their supplies. Hearing the reassuring jangle of money inside, he tucked the coffer underneath his arm without a second glance and made his way outdoors. He raced to the stables through the growing clouds of smoke and fumes, hastily tossed a saddle over one of the horses and charged headlong out the gate. Stoatie knew exactly where he wanted to go. There was an old hideout for Ferny's men tucked away in the South Downs. He frantically spurred his mount onward, charging through groups of combatants, and jumping over downed hayricks and farm equipment overturned in his path. Once he left the bloodiest part of the melee behind, he continued riding eastward at a hard gallop for a good ten minutes or more until he reached the eastern boundary of the plantation, an area that was uninhabited and framed with fields of pipeweed and scrub vegetation. For some unknown reason, the fences here were higher than those surrounding the rest of the encampment; they towered a good seven feet in the air, strong and sturdily built so that it was impossible for a horse to jump over them or kick them down. Stoatie dug into his pocket pulling out a key to unlock the heavy iron gate, then relocked it securely, speedily riding south and east in the direction of the Downs. [ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.