Den of Thieves

Sounds of children playing wake Carr from an old musty straw bed. Noticing right away Ebony is not there, Carr jumps to his feet.

Now dizzy he staggers outside to see the horse grazing nearby.

Carr sighs, “whew,” warmed by the sun he stretches out, noticing the sun’s high position in the sky. “Crap! I’ve slept until almost afternoon.”

Darting back in the hut Carr collects his things. After quickly struggling to get his gear in place Carr slips behind the hut.

With a lighter load Carr jumps on top of Ebony and they take off.

Racing out of town Carr crests the top of the stone bridge, forcing three younger teens off. Glancing back Carr snickers as one ended up in the river.

Despite the afternoon cooling down the ride along the eastern road goes by unhindered.

Slowing Ebony’s pace, he compares the given map with a personal one. A trail marked on the given map leads from the eastern road to the ruins. With concerns of possible trap, he thinks it might be best to cut through the forest. Find the Cirran River and follow its’ banks upstream.

As a big bend turns northerly a decision seems to be made for him. Spotting an animal trail heading east into the forest, he directs Ebony into the woods.

Before the woods become pitch black, he finds a place to stop for the night beside a tiny creek.

Next morning, they set out for the Cirran River. The woods on the other side of the creek can’t be ridden through.

A few hours into the walk the trek becomes tougher as the animal trail becomes overgrown. Using the long-sword Carr hacks their way through the vegetation.

The noise of chopping keeps animals at bay. Tired by noon Carr rests for a nibble and water.

By mid afternoon his arm muscles ache. He becomes thankful for two things. No beasts are bothering him and the much-needed work out on his shield arm.

Helping to keep moving, Carr makes the rest of the day into a training exercise. Branches become foe’s weapon wielding arms. Vines are the foul webbing of giant spiders and the regular spider webs are trip wires. If the tiny webs were trip wires to traps Carr would surely be dead several times over.

Exhausted Carr collapses beside a second creek. From the ground he decides this is the place to hold up for the night. Cupping the water from the creek pours it down his head and back.

With a small fire started he settles against a tree, chewing on some bread and dried meat. As the woods grow dark the day of hacking puts him to sleep.

Ebony snorting and softly whinnying wakes Carr in the middle of the night. Seeing the horse agitated he scans the area for the source. The fire is now glowing embers.

Routing through his pack is something large and hairy. Staring at the beastie until his eyes adjust to the dark catches a distinctive warning pattern.

In awe of its size Carr sits up. Look at the size of that skunk. Its’ got to be four stones. Speaking in a low rough voice, “hey! Get out of that!”

Pulling its head back out of the pack the skunk looks right at Carr momentarily before returning to snacking on the rations.

“Oh! You think so do you?” Locating a rock Carr whips it at the skunk, “chew on this!” The rock bounces right off its’ side.

Jerking its’ head out the skunk growls and snaps.

Carr pretends to throw something else. The skunk bites down on the strap of the backpack and takes off into the brush.

“What the? Hey!” Jumping to his feet Carr grabs the long-sword to give chase.

Dodging branches and crashing through brush Carr gains on the over-sized furry critter.

Close enough to strike Carr chops the sword down. Evading the blade, the skunk swiftly circles behind. Turning he sees the skunk’s tail stretched straight up emitting a clear vapor, before taking off again dragging the pack.

“Oh, no!” Carr tries to avoid the horrid vapory cloud of stench. However, the horrible stench envelopes Carr, causing gagging and teary eyes. Trying not to puke Carr mutters at the fleeing creature, “you’ll pay for that! You foul bastard!”

With convulsing stomach and watering eyes Carr continues the pursuit.

Despite stumbling over tree roots and clipping tree trunks he stays with the skunk.

Carr’s stomach settles allowing him to move quicker. Unfortunately, his eyes are still streaming water. So blurry Carr doesn’t see a high tree root rounding its’ trunk. Tripping badly Carr sails, shoulder first into the hard uneven ground.

Half blind and winded Carr gets up, rubbing his covered shoulder.

Using his only good sense listens to the woods.

Twiggs snapping behind get Carr to turn around and follow by sound.

Blindly navigating the woods pursuing the skunk his vision slowly returns.

The skunk can’t be heard or seen, so Carr quietly and slowly circles.

The woods begin to lighten and the birds start chirping.

Oh, crap. Bested by a skunk. Annoyed and repulsed by the new scent Carr yells out, “you! Bastard! Skunk!”

The verbal action causes the surrounding birds to go silent. A rustling bush catches Carr’s attention. Scanning the area, he steps towards a large group of thorny bushes.

A pace away sees his stinky foe using thorny shrubs as a fortified shelter.

“Ah, hah,” Carr circles the bushes, “I’ve got you now.”

Noticing the skunk can’t back out, Carr takes it on, hacking and chopping at the branches that cover it. The skunk hisses, growls and snaps its’ teeth.

The bushes too thick to hack through, Carr drives the long-sword straight down. The blade slices into the skunk’s foreleg.

In fear for its life the skunk makes an offensive attack biting deep into Carr’s boot, piercing his ankle.

Taking the pain Carr pulls his leg back dragging the skunk out. Driving the sword down Carr skewers the skunk through its’ body to the ground. It lets out painful squeals flailing about.

Drawing out a dagger Carr severs the skunk’s spine. Blood pours from the wound as the skunk twitches.

Wiping the blades off on the skunk’s fur Carr returns them to their sheaths.

Pulling the dead animal aside, he bends down to retrieve the backpack from the bushes.

Checking the pack sees that his picks, cloak and healing items are still inside. The creature ate most of his rations, leaving only four days worth.

Hanging the pack over his good shoulder attempts to find his way back.

Wandering for sometime he locates the small creek and follows it downstream.

Spotting the black horse Carr waves, “hey girl I’m back. The skunk is dead.”

Smelling the stench wafting off Carr gets Ebony snorting and shaking her head with disgust.

“A horrible smell eh?” Hoping to lessen the odor Carr removes his armor rinsing it off in the creek.

Redressed and still smelly Carr resumes hacking their way through the woods. The odor keeps Ebony snorting and sneezing most of the day.

Running low on energy and water Carr makes camp earlier than usual. Stopping in a mossy clearing Carr rests on a fallen tree trunk, dropping his sword beside.

Finding something tasty Ebony nibbles away. Only some dry bread for Carr and the last of the water. “Damn girl we should have hit the river by now. I hope I’m not wandering in a big circle. If we’d stayed on the road we could’ve been in Monsteil by now.”

After starting a small fire Carr sits on the soft mossy ground leaning against the fallen tree. Feeling a cool breeze on his face relaxes enough to pass out.