The warriors rode first, guiding their horses carefully along the icy mountain trail, huddled up tightly against the cold winter wind. Behind them came the wizards and the priests, also bundled in warm winter clothing, their imperial finery buried beneath layer upon layer of thick furs and padded garments. Two, obviously more important than the rest, rode in luxurious sedan-chairs carried by hulking half-orc porters. More servants followed on foot, burdened heavily with the party’s cargo. And finally bringing up the rear, another contingent of warriors, periodically stopping to listen carefully and watch the road behind.
The road crested a small rise and there before them lay an immense ravine spanned by an ancient bridge of dwarvish construction, an enormous gaping hole scarring its center. The warrior at the head of the column called a halt and sent word back the line. Within a few moments the two sedan chairs arrived at the front of the column and their passengers disembarked. The priest was a short and slender man, dark, with devious eyes. “Praise be to Wee Jas, it is exactly as we have seen.”
“Yes,” replied the mage, a tall, fat man, with a stern and imposing visage, “this is certainly the place.”
The priest shouted abruptly at the porters “Spread out, he will be here somewhere! Quickly!”
The servants unburdened themselves of their packs and the sedan chairs and fanned out over the snow covered ground along the ravine’s edge. In just a few moments a shout caught the priest’s attention, and he and the mage rushed to its source. A band of servants was already gathering, digging furiously at the frozen ground, tossing aside a small pile of rocks. Soon their prey was revealed: the corpse of warrior, clad in a mithril breastplate and the tattered remants of a familiar tabard.
“Well,” snickered the mage “it seems we have found our traitor.”
“Indeed,” replied the priest “and he will soon learn a most painful lesson. Not even death will save you from the Sultan’s justice.”
6 comments:
[smiling] Most fun.
ooh. I like it.
Hey, didn't we loot his body? ;)
You only took the swords.
Fair enough. I was too tired to notice what Treasure Keeper Deluxe was writing down.
I'd still be interested in reading another Jeral letter or the like. How does a goody goody really think when facing evil and the necessity of being paired with less-than-desirables?
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