Subj : Re: Peace] Move 6-- another ambush To : All From : jcb26@cornell.edu Date : Mon May 01 2000 12:47 pm From: Joseph Betzwieser Subject: Re: Peace] Move 6-- another ambush YHL from Joe's computer... >It's pleasant to know you're still on the trail. Unfortunately, you >don't seem to be getting much closer to the person you're following. As >you leave the inn, you guess that you're about 150 miles to the Goval >border, possibly a bit closer. With steady riding, you'll reach the >border in five to six days if the trail continues straight there. >The weather turns fair the next day. The trail begins to dry out. A >generally more cheerful mood settles over the company. Even the Earl of >Sniegrass is more cheerful-- although it takes a few threatening words >from Colonel Ger (possibly illegal, consididering they're being spoken >to an Earl) to keep him from pulling out his battered trumpet and >playing it. Edgar silently applauds Ger. He wonders who was daft enough to hand the lad a trumpet, of all things, then decides he doesn't want to know. >The next day also continues fair, even extremely warm. And the good >mood of the company continues, as well... right up to the point where a >net is dropped over you. A *net*? Edgar is too busy sputtering to even reach for a weapon. >There's not much of a fight. This ambush was *much* more professionally >done than the last one; the only person who can move is Brother John, >but he quickly realizes it would be foolish to struggle; there are at >least a dozen ambushers, and your company is hampered due to being >mounted at the point of ambush. Edgar's horse, in particular, isn't taking this well; and it's all Edgar can do, constrained as he is, to keep the wretched creature from panicking completely. >The ambushers begin by taking Brother John out from under the net. One >of the thugs does the searching, while the remainder hold back and cover >the group with bows. The thug takes Brother John's staff and purse, and >starts searching inside his clothing. Then suddenly he stops, his eyes >widening slightly, as he sees the royal seal. He quickly stops, spins, >looks at Colonel Mik, and calls out to somewhere in the forest beyond >you: "Your majesty! Your majesty! Come quickly and see what we have >here!" "Majesty?" Edgar mutters to the nearest person. "I didn't know we had a multiplicity of kings." >Another man steps out of the forest, dressed in unusual finery steps out >of the trees. A couple of the ambushers begin to make short bows toward >him, but he quickly forestalls them, holding up one hand and saying in a >rather reedy voice, "Remember, no bows when out collecting, gentlemen. >No point in making yourselves vulnerable. Now, then, Lyfun, what did >you find?" Edgar's eyes narrow as he studies "his Majesty." >The soldier quickly straightens Brother John's clothing, and turns to >point at Colonel Mik. "This man, your majesty! I recognize him! He's >the Earl of Pladsworth. And over there"-- he points to the Earl of >Sniegrass-- "that's his son. We can hold them for ransom." Edgar stifles a groan. Bandits, bandits, everywhere, nor any time to think. >The finely-dressed man comes closer to Colonel Ger, and looks intently >at him. "Indeed," he says, and pauses slightly. "My name is King >Liance IV. I am the true ruler of this kingdom. I'm afraid, my lord, >that I will have to insist that you enjoy my hospitality, such as I am >able to provide, until such time as I determine what to do with you. >Oh, and I'm afraid I will have to ask you and your retinue to surrendur >your weapons, horses, purses, and anything else of value you have. My >apologies, but as much as I would like to be use a more civil way of >regaining my throne, I do not see it as of yet. Please be assured that >I will allow you to ransom any items of value." Edgar is frankly puzzled by this man's attempts at civility despite the fact that he's leading a group of bandits--and well-behaved bandits, too (for the breed), so far as he can tell. The name Liance doesn't sound familiar, though. And Liance IV? A whole line of bandit-kings? Regaining *what* throne? Orcs were safer as far as he was concerned. 16 men with bows, and all they have is...Edgar looks around and sighs deeply. [Edgar has no intention of trying a head-on fight in such unfavorable circumstances--unless someone else does something precipitous. The following assumes that, indeed, nothing precipitous has happened yet.] "Greetings, your Majesty," Edgar says to Liance IV with as elaborate a bow as he can manage, what with the netting and his nervous horse and all--and with a slight flourish toward Ger. Goodness knows, he's spent just enough time at court trying to cover up for Grandpa's hijinks that he's learned *some* courtly skills. In the course of the bow he contrives to get his hands tangled up in the mesh, and looks with half-feigned bewilderment at everyone else. "Oh dear, I can't seem to reach my purse." If the Earl of Sniegrass hasn't acted up yet, Edgar adds to the boy, in a stage whisper, "Honored sir, I'm sure that your heirloom trumpet will be ransomed as soon as your relatives hear about this." [Edgar is hoping to convince them that he's "just a guard" for these noble personages and that the bandits won't search him *too* thoroughly. He doesn't really think he has much hope of succeeding, but what else can be done? Also, given the boy's attachment to the trumpet, he's hoping the Earl will throw a tantrum and provide a better distraction. It would be just like the Earl, though, to behave just this once. ] YHL -- |Fidonet: jcb26@cornell.edu |Internet: ad&d@conchbbs.com | | Standard disclaimer: The views of this user are strictly his own. | Conch, Net 106's Public Access Internet Gateway --- # Origin: (1:106/357.99) * Origin: ConchGate (1:106/357.0) .