Frustrated Father
First Post
Comments welcome and appreciated!
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He had come from the north seeking treasures amongst the rich southerners and had been astounded at how the crippled, weak and stupid were allowed to live. Not only that, many held position and power amongst their own. Vidor spat a wad of phlegm onto the ground before him as he watched the caravan make its way down through the valley. Behind him his men busied themselves with their weapons and mounts. Southerners all, but ones that he had molded into true men and killers for his own purpose. Phah! What he wouldn't do for a handful of good North born men!
As the caravan entered the kill zone, Vidor and his men charged the caravan, intent on death and rapine of the rich cargo. It was only at the last moment that Vidor realized something was wrong and without a word of warning to his men, kicked his horse into a different direction, angling past the caravan and into the wilderness. Moments later the slaughter of his men began as hidden forces within the caravan turned the ambush upon the bandits .....
..... they had shot his horse out from beneath him over half an hour ago when the pursuit had caught up with him, but he, being of good northern stock simply rolled off the horse and kept running. He still had to chuckle at the thought of the one mans look upon his face when he had jumped out from behind that last rock and nearly cut the man in half with the combined power of his powerful swing and the gallop of the mans steed. It had almost been worth the arrow that he took in the arm before he could scatter back into the rocks as the rest of the mans troupe pursued him. Only seven of them left. He was sure he could pull it off.
.... six
... three
... two
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He had come from the north seeking treasures amongst the rich southerners and had been astounded at how the crippled, weak and stupid were allowed to live. Not only that, many held position and power amongst their own. Vidor spat a wad of phlegm onto the ground before him as he watched the caravan make its way down through the valley. Behind him his men busied themselves with their weapons and mounts. Southerners all, but ones that he had molded into true men and killers for his own purpose. Phah! What he wouldn't do for a handful of good North born men!
As the caravan entered the kill zone, Vidor and his men charged the caravan, intent on death and rapine of the rich cargo. It was only at the last moment that Vidor realized something was wrong and without a word of warning to his men, kicked his horse into a different direction, angling past the caravan and into the wilderness. Moments later the slaughter of his men began as hidden forces within the caravan turned the ambush upon the bandits .....
..... they had shot his horse out from beneath him over half an hour ago when the pursuit had caught up with him, but he, being of good northern stock simply rolled off the horse and kept running. He still had to chuckle at the thought of the one mans look upon his face when he had jumped out from behind that last rock and nearly cut the man in half with the combined power of his powerful swing and the gallop of the mans steed. It had almost been worth the arrow that he took in the arm before he could scatter back into the rocks as the rest of the mans troupe pursued him. Only seven of them left. He was sure he could pull it off.
.... six
... three
... two
