NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 2795066" data-attributes="member: 15187">*****As their companions explored the gruesome attack on the monastery, Argonne and Moxadder had followed Maron Devlis to the edge of the village where he began to track the bandits. The marks of passage were not difficult for the experienced forester to follow, particularly as the bandits had been travelling in numbers. Their quarry led them into the soothing cool of the woods. The bandits had not troubled to conceal their path, their progress having largely tramped through whatever stood in their way. Only the salt stained trunks of the mightier trees had proved to be a sufficient impediment to force them to turn aside.Presently, they emerged in a small clearing where the remains of a large fire expelled curling wisps of smoke. Maron poked through the embers with a stick but found nothing of interest. The three cast about the clearing, trying to determine the direction the bandits had taken. Maron was quick to find the blundering tracks that led deeper into the forest and for the next half hour the trio made good progress. Abruptly, the tracks which had led them so surely through the foliage vanished at the foot of a large tree, whose thick branches arched gracefully over the surrounding greenery. Its smooth brown trunk had recently been scored in many places, and a thick sap weeped slowly from some of the deeper cuts. The sharp tang of the trees ichor overpowered the more subtle aromas of earthy soil and old leaves. Suspecting that the bandits had climbed the tree, Argonne began to cast about the area, trying to find where their quarry had climbed down and resumed their journey. Moxadder was content to rest and watch Maron. The woodsman absently rubbed a scratch on his arm and pondered the meaning of the vanished trail. With a harumph to clear his throat he spoke.“Leave off your search, you won’t find anything. I’ve seen this ruse before. You lay an obvious trail to a tree, mark up the trunk and then backtrack the way you came. Anyone following gets to the tree and assumes that you climbed it to hide your tracks. It’s a good trick too, but I guarantee you that a dozen men carrying slaves and booty could not have pulled it off. Come lads, lets backtrack and try to find where the real trail splits off.”The young men did not see fit to contradict Maron’s analysis and they began to painstakingly retrace their steps. Their progress was much slower now as not only were they trying to find where the concealed tracks diverged from the original path, they also had to contend with the obscurement their own passage had left. The afternoon was well advanced by the time they once more attained the clearing containing the remains of the fire. By now the grey ashes had expelled the last of their smoky breath and all that remained was a fading warmth. The aged woodsman began a close examination of the clearing but it was Argonne who’s keen eyesight picked out an anomaly concealed behind a thick stand of shrubs. The three trackers crouched close to the discovery and looked it over. Maron nodded appreciatively when he read the clues hidden amongst the detritus of the forest floor. There could be no question, this was where the raiders had truly gone, and it was a tribute to their skill that their marks had been so hard to find. Also noteworthy was that the tracks were no longer those of heavy booted brigands, but rather the more subtle imprints of soft shod or bare feet. Wordlessly the trio began to follow the new trail they had discovered.The tracks barely deviated at all, and soon exited the woods and headed through the hardy seaside grasses for the coastline. Here the way was much harder to follow, but with Maron and Argonne assiduously looking for even the smallest clue, and even the occasional contribution from Moxadder, they never lost the trail. Their anticipation grew steadily as they keenly read the minute signals in the unhelpful terrain. At last real progress was being made in unmasking the assailants. They passed Leith’s Abbey a long way to their left and eventually arrived at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. An ancient path led down to the shore, and presently they stood on a small, secluded beach that was hidden from the view of village, abbey or lighthouse. A long groove etched in the sand was the only unnatural feature of the cove. Moxadder gazed out at the ocean but whatever vessel had traced the furrow was long gone. Maron walked up next to him with a scrap of red dyed canvas in his hand. “Sailcloth”, he growled, “and of a like made infamous by the Blood Sails. Found it caught in those bushes by the trail.”The tattooed man shrugged his thin shoulders, “I knew it was pirates. There’s some tough years ahead for them girls”“Aye”The climb back up the cliff and subsequent journey back to Ravenswood felt much more arduous than it should. Maron declined to return to the village. The unpleasantness of the days events had left him with no taste for human company. Despite the lateness of the hour, he began the long trek back to his home.*****</blockquote>

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