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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Dlsharrock" data-source="post: 4307583" data-attributes="member: 55833">Ulfang is hard on the heels of the five burglars, hefty feet pounding the ground. He's coming, and they know it. The trailing thief makes the mistake of glancing back at the thudding sound of the great barbarian's approaching feet and Ulfang gets a quick look at the face under the cowl. A Man - or so it seems - but one with pinched features, large round, terrified eyes and a youthful, softness, though this is no child. "ONE WEEK OF WAGE TO WHO CATCHES THE ROTTEN SONS OF WARGS. THE SORRY, MISBGOTTEN BASTARDS OF LOWLY -" comes the yell of the Dwarf bringing up the rear.Most of the camp's residents who are witness to the chase just watch proceedings in a dumb way, hardly believing what they're seeing it seems. Baran madly and repeatedly points at the running thieves, shouting all the while, "MOVE THOSE FEET, YOU SLAGGARDS! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE! GELLION! MORBIEK!" he snaps, spoting those worthies open-mouthed by the edge of the camp, "CUT THEM OFF! NOW!"Most. But not all. Aerec, known to many in camp as the Horsemaster, is rubbing down Stumpy, the plow horse turned logging mule. 'Next month', he muses, 'I'll be doing the same thing, and probably five years from now. Is this really what mom wanted when she made me promise to stay here?' With a start, he realizes that even that line of thought, and that very question, are exact repeats of his revery yesterday. With a quiet curse he stows the brush and moves to gather Stumpy's blanket. His movement is interrupted by Baran's call from across the camp, and Stumpy is destined for a chilly night. Aerec drops the blanket without a glance at the horse as he charges toward the foredwarf's hut. He is spurred on by Baran's promise of reward, although an added energy comes from the implied promise of adventure."Who are we chasing?" he asks as he catches up to Baran, just in time to watch the odd barbarian try to tackle a small cloaked being. Once again, he lets his thoughts set their own pace. 'I don't know what this fool is doing, but I sure don't want to be left out.'Elsewhere Aurvandil, self labelled knight of Gondor, steps out from his tent, sword drawn, when he hears the cries of "Thief!" issued from the dwarf smith's tent. He runs to Eredren and leaps into the saddle, praising himself for not taking it off yet. He then gallops off after the bandits, hoping to cut them off. "Ulfang, take him down!" Aurvandil shouts as the giant of a man closes with one of the trailing thieves.Ulfang grins as the rearmost burglar looks back a second time, and he relishes the fear he sees in its eyes. Spurred on by the mounted knight's encouragement, and with his great, powerful strides, Ulfang closes the distance quickly and launches himself at the smaller man attempting to tackle the enemy and hold him until Baran can catch up. With a primal roar, he leaps into action.The barbarian and the trailing burglar go down, the large human's arms wrapped like pincers around his foe's waist, the bulk of his body crushing the burglar into the ground. "Aaiieiee..oof!" the burglar cries out, face pressed down into the grass as Ulfang (with no great effort) attempts to pin him, "mff, mf, mfff". The burglar reaches under himself, presumably going for some hidden weapon, and Ulfang attempts to counter the move by shifting his bulk and tightening his hold. Ulfang manages to pin the burglar's wayward arm. "Mmf!" Aerec dashes by and Baran comes running up behind the barbarian and his floored quarry. The burglar turns his head sideways, eyes rolling to take in the face of the huge Man wrestling him. "Aarrrkkkaag! Great oaf! You're crushing me!" He coughs and splutters, then his expression changes, becomes softer, more pitiable. Tears roll down his cheeks. "Mercy!" He sobs breathlessly, "I begs you, doesn't hurt me any more. Doesn't do anything spiteful! I've got it. I have. I've got it. You can have it back, it's in my handses. Just doesn't bruise and batter me any more. Pleeeease!""I'll handle him." The dwarf piles in, grabbing for flailing limbs, for thinness of neck. "You go!"Aerec runs on, leaps over a fringe of low-lying bramble at the edge of the forest and follows the next burglar in line, attempting to duplicate the barbarian's action, hoping those others will turn to help their captured cohort.But there is no honour among thieves and the remaining four burglars do nothing to help their fallen companion. Instead they continue to run for the treeline, though now all four are glancing back over their shoulders and both Baran and Aerec are afforded a good look at their faces. Three, it would seem, are male, one is almost certainly female. All have flat, broad cheeked features and large, frightened eyes. The resemblance to some kind of Elvish/human hybrid is uncanny, as is the child-like softness of their skin and expressive eyes. Other than their clothing, and but for the fact they were caught red-handed, these five don't look like natural thieves at all.Aurvandil's horse thunders past Aerec, and slams mightily into the rearmost burglar, sending him flying into a bush of prickly bracken edging the slope near the treeline. The horse gallops on, Aurvandil hauling back on the reins and drawing his steed short of the dense treeline. The horse rises on its rear legs, forehooves kicking out at the air, nostrils flaring. Then it falls back onto all four hooves. In the bushes, Aurvandil can hear the fallen burglar groaning. The others, meanwhile, are still dashing for the trees, Aerec closing on them at full speed. He struggles to time his attack well but misjudges the fleeing burglar's next step and stumbles to correct himself, unable to grab the thief. With a curse, the awkward youth rights himself and continues chasing the fleeing burglars. 'This is no way to chase anyone down', he thinks to himself. 'What I need is a good, fast horse underneath me. Then they wouldn't stand a chance of getting away'. So caught up in his frustration is he that he barely ducks a low branch in time to save himself a serious headache. He quickly glances back to see if Baran or any of the others are behind him.Some lengths behind, Ulfang scrambles back to his feet and attempts to see where he can best help. Aerec has stumbled on the edge of the treeline. Moments later he vanishes into the depths of the forest. Aurvandil is turning his horse, staring pointedly at a spot amidst the bracken. Of the other burglars there seems to be no sign. Evidently they have fled into the woods."Filthy Dwarf!" The burglar's sobs switch to indignation once again, "let go of my necks and handses!" The rage breaks, a shuddering of shoulders and back as Baran increases the pressure "Aaaaaugh, please don't hurts me. Just let me give it back. I doesn't wants it anyway. I doesn't wants it!"Actions and words, thinks the dwarf, not slackening a hair's breadth. Anger, in fact, calls for a tightening, the cracking of bones, but they do so look like children of men... and he's never been a violent man. Now if he can only see how the others are.Aurvandil turns his horse beneath him and trots back to where the fallen burlger lies. He dismounts quickly and lays his sword across the thief's throat. "You will sit still until my help arrives, or I will kill you". The burglar's hood has fallen back, revealing a female face, similar to that of the other intruders. Soft and broad cheeked but with pinched nose, and chin, all framed by tight ringlets of brown hair. Her lips are painted with a bright scarlet dye of some sort and a strange curly rune is scribed in black ink upon her pale forehead. Her eyes are closed and a gash on the left side of her head is bleeding. Aurvandil can see blood on a nearby rock. A curved dagger with a wooden hilt and leather scabbard is visible, hooked through her belt...</blockquote>

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