Ransley made his way up the hill. He was in a solemn mood today and hoped nothing would happen. He doubted it though, something always happened. No matter how unlikely or silly it would seem at that time, something always happened. Never, never was it something that had helped Ransley in any way. Whatever happened always seemed to be for the worst. Yet the ranger always kept a level head and saw his way through, that was probably the only reason he was still alive.
He drew his sword as he carried on. There was nothing here which needed killing but for some reason there was something in the back of his head nagging him to keep his sword ready. He had nearly reached the top of the hill when disaster struck. He began to lose his balance and to his surprise the ground seemed to be moving away under him, it did not take him long to realize that he was trapped in a mudslide.
He was glad now to have his sword ready as he drove it into the ground and hung on. That did not last long as he got washed away. Still gripping his sword he noticed some rocks acting as a barrier to the mudslide. He thrust his sword between them and luckily for him it stuck. He grinned as he lift himself to the rocks, one arm around them and the other on the hilt of his sword.
It was a messy job but Ransley saw it through. He lift himself up once the way was cleared and pulled his sword free. He seathed it, it would need some repair at night he reckoned. He treaded carefully back to the top and continued on his journey.
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