(Adventure) Rivenblight's Castaway [Creamsteak judging]

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Guh!? the boy jumps two feet in the air and falls over, as his hands are tied together. Righting himself and spitting out dirt, the boy looks Troi in the face and a look of fright eases to one of relief. "Gods, mister!" he says. "Don't scare me like that! You mind giving me a hand here?"

 

[GnomeWorks]

"Siddown!" Troi says quickly and harshly.

"If they know I'm followin' 'em... yer bait, prolly, a some kind. Dunno what, though." He considers the woods around him.

"Siddown an' listen. Answer my questions when I ask 'em. How many of 'em are they, an' do they know I'm followin' em?" He asks these calmly. "An' don't worry, I'll let ya go... if ya answer my questions. An' I'm convinced yer not a trap a some kind."

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

The boy gives him a dirty look. "Gods, mister, you're a hard-eyed one." But he answers the questions, frowning in recollection. "Three." That fit the tracks. "And yeah, I think so. They was arguing, whether they had time for me." He sighed. "Took me gold, too, the bastards."

 

[GnomeWorks]

Boy
"Gods, mister, you're a hard-eyed one."

Troi shakes his head. "Th' gods aren't gonna help you er me, boy, so best leave 'em outta this."

Boy
"Three."

Troi nods.

Boy
"And yeah, I think so. They was arguing, whether they had time for me."

"Damn." Troi says to himself, shaking his head. "That's gonna make it harder ta nail 'em."

Boy
"Took me gold, too, the bastards."

"I'd quit yer whinin'. Yer still alive - they coulda killed ya, easy. Prolly should've - if yer not a trap, then they were pretty stupid ta leave ya behind so I could get info outta ya... unless they were feedin' ya nonsense."

He glances around the woods again, taking careful note of movement of any sort.

"Well, I'm still not convinced yer not a trap. If they know I'm followin' 'em, th' best thing they coulda done would be ta leave one a their number behind, an' nail me while I was messin' around with 'em, er later on down th' trail where they've got an ambush set up. So either yer a trap, er misdirection... one a th' two."

Troi sighs, shifting his weight uneasily.

"I don't like th' looks a this one..." He says to himself. "Maybe I don't have a choice, though..."

"Alright." He looks to the boy once again. "A few more questions: did ya catch any a their names? Did any of 'em mention a name that mighta sounded like it belonged ta an elf, a woman? Did any of 'em mention some kinda trap, er somethin' along those lines, an' possibly mention a caravan? An' what kinda weapons ya any good with?"

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Alright." He looks to the boy once again. "A few more questions: did ya catch any a their names? Did any of 'em mention a name that mighta sounded like it belonged ta an elf, a woman? Did any of 'em mention some kinda trap, er somethin' along those lines, an' possibly mention a caravan? An' what kinda weapons ya any good with?"

"No, one of 'em was an elf woman, they didn't tell me nothin' but to stand and deliver, and I can hit things with sticks. Also throw rocks." The boy seems to be getting annoyed. "Can I get untied now?"

 

[GnomeWorks]

"The elf woman was with 'em?" Troi asks rhetorically, a surprised look crossing his face. "Well, this is gonna be easier'n I thought... unless she's not in charge..."

He pauses.

"An' stand an' deliver... what? What were ya s'posed ta stand an' deliver? An' as fer gettin' loose... I'd calm down, if I were ya. I'll let ya go, but only after I decide if yer a trap er not."

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Oh, in the name of all that's Holy..." the boy rolls his eyes. "Hyrag's blue balls, man, I've got the clothes on my back and a mostly empty burlack sack. What in the infinite layers of the abyss am I going to to you? If you think you're taking on that lot all by your lonesome, one pauper boy isn't going to make a difference." The boy, who seems to lose his lower-class accent and become progressively more articulate as he gets annoyed, leans back against the tree again and starts moving his shoulders up and down again- trying, you realize, to break the rope by rubbing it against the bark.

 

[GnomeWorks]

In an irritated but swift motion, Troi draws the throwing axe, pulls the boy towards him, turning him slightly, and cuts through the rope with the axe.

"There." He says disgustedly. "Now will ya shut th' hell up?"

He shakes his head.

"I'm gonna give ya two options. Ya can come with me, an' help me hunt down th' bandits - ya'll get yer gold back, at least, an' ya can use this axe, if ye're willin' an' able ta fight. Or ya can wait here by th' trail, an' there should be a caravan comin' soon, if it didn't already pass by... ya can hitch up with 'em when they show up." He offers the axe to the boy, handle-first. "So what'll it be?"

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Uh... right." The boy takes the axe and makes a few experimental chopping motions. "Thanks."

 

[GnomeWorks]

"No prob." Troi says, shaking his head.

"Alright, so here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna follow th' tracks - me in front, since I know what I'm doin' - an when we see 'em, I'll shoot one of 'em, then we move in; if they're still a ways away, I'll shoot 'em as we get closer, but when we get inta melee, I'll drop my bow an' pull out my whip an' sword. Don't throw th' axe, by th' way, as I don't have much other weapons ya could use - so ye're just gonna hang back until we get right up in their faces, eh? If yer hurt, back off or fall as though ya've got a nasty wound... I've got stuff ta heal ya, but only a little, and it certainly can't bring ya back from death."

He sighs.

"Alright, guess that 'bout covers it. Oh, an' don't make any noise... if ya gotta say somethin', whisper. If ya see somethin' movin', an' it don't seem like I've seen it, snap yer fingers three times."

With that, he looks for the tracks, and continues following them.