Out of the frying pan…

The trail is cold… I can’t find anymore signs of Meat and I’m far too deep into enemy territory. I could have sworn I saw his hat from across the river, but I was wrong. No rations, no supplies and no clear way home… And worse of all… No food for the Paskets. I have to work on self preservation. If Meat is still out there somewhere I’ll pickup the trail later. For now it’s time to find something to eat.

After hours of searching around I came across a fair sized camp. The all to familiar flower of the Dey-Jardan flew over the site, but no troops to be seen as of now. I should have waited until nightfall, but I couldn’t focus over the sounds of my belly and the rustling of the Paskets. Against my better judgment I crept into the camp and began searching for any supplies or info I could find. After a few moments the smell of hot stew hit my nose and I was compelled to follow it. To my surprise there was a pot over the campfire, rumbling with the sweet sound of bubbling goodness. I let the Paskets have at it first. The way I see it I could have a full belly, but if the Paskets weren’t fed I may not be around long enough to enjoy it. Thankfully they left some in the large pot and I got a decent meal from it.

After lunch I began to search the camp for any information I could find. After skimming though a few documents in an officer’s tent it seems the Dey-Jardan are hellbent on seeking out Horde…(Foresight) A disturbing number of images flash though my head with possibilities as to why they would want anything to do with the horde. All of them bad.

I didn’t have long to ponder this as my thoughts where interrupted by the officer opening the front of his tent. His gaze met mine as we both stood in shock. The air was still for a moment before he yelled for his men and drew his blade. Outnumbered I knew I had to run. I kicked the main support of the tent causing it to collapse on both the officer and I. Wasting no time I scurry out from beneath the tent. When I stand I am met with seven troops. All with weapons at the ready. They give me no time to draw my blades and go on the offensive instantly. (Dodge) I bob and weave the first three strikes, but with so many foes one of the strikes land true. The soldier’s mace lands just below my hip on the right side. Now limping I knew I couldn’t run. I created some space by scattering the bag of Paskets in a wide arc towards the soldiers and draw my swords. Thankfully the Paskets made short work of three of the men, but there where still four left and the officer who finally found his way out of the tent. The first man lunges forward with a shortsword followed closely by the second with a spear. The first overreaches and I manage to drive my blade into his armor and through him (pierce). The second man’s thrust digs into my left arm as the first falls to the ground. (Sunder) I chop at the spear’s shaft with my remaining sword arm and separate the head from the handle. It is at this point the Officer blows a horn to signal for more troops.

I’m tired and running out of options.

I notice the first soldier crawling away slowly and put my boot in his back. If I can’t fight the remaining soldiers maybe I can stop the fight and get away. (Intimidation) I present my blade to the wounded soldier’s throat. “I’ll end him if any of you take another step closer…” My breathing is laboured and weak.

The scene falls silent as a half dozen more troops approach from deeper within the camp all with weapons drawn. Too many to fight…

The officer scoffs and draws a flintlock pistol and levels it at me…

I sigh, drop my sword and raise my hands…

…dammit Meat…