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Old 04-07-2007, 09:25 AM   #365
Child of the 7th Age
Spirit of the Lonely Star
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Makdush waited till the company had passed and climbed up on his horse, heading in a southwesterly direction. Once he was out of eye range from the company, he spurred his mount in the flanks and raced forward to the tent where he had seen the two orcs earlier that day. Makdush quickly retraced his steps and then leapt down to the ground, running across the compound. By now the other riders would probably be entering the camp.

Throwing up the leather flap, the Uruk cried out excitedly to Gwerr and Ishkur: "Riders! Riders in camp! A group of twelve to fifteen. Men and women. Slaves or slavers, but probably slaves." Makdush's words tumbled out in quick succession. He did not even stop for an answer, but growled under his breath. "They're here for plunder and probably to stick knives in our backs. We need to get out now and save our necks!"

Last edited by Child of the 7th Age; 04-07-2007 at 10:13 PM.
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