The trees are alive with bandit patrols, but your quick wits and Kai skills prevent you from being seen by them. Eventually you reach the edge of the copse. You find yourself staring out across an expanse of open plain towards Ruanon. The sight that lies before you is very disquieting.
Much of the mining town has been burnt to the ground. The blackened ruins of what were once shops, cottages and taverns are now little more than smouldering mounds of charcoal. You are beginning to fear the worst, that Ruanon has been totally destroyed, when a gentle breeze clears the haze of wood smoke hanging like a grey curtain over the ruins. Inside the perimeter of ruined buildings, a barricade has been thrown up around a tower of stone. Above the tower, a tattered flag still flies bringing renewed hope; it is the sun-flag of Sommerlund edged with a band of white braid--the cavalry standard of the King's Guard Regiment.
The sudden crack of a twig makes you freeze. You glance behind to see three bandits creeping through the trees towards you. The wide steel tips of their spears glint. They seem to be coated with a clear, sticky fluid.
(I use Hunting to identify what is on the tips of their spears.)
You recognize gnadurn sap dripping from their spears. It is a deadly poison. You dare not risk engaging in combat with these bandits, for the merest graze from one of their tainted weapons could be fatal. Leaping to your feet, you race away from the trees and run towards Ruanon.
From all along the forest edge, groups of bandits emerge from the trees, whipped and scolded by their bullying sergeants for allowing you to escape. This spurs you to quicken your pace, and you cover the first hundred yards with ease. Then arrows begin to fall around you. You duck and weave, making yourself a difficult target for the archers, and gradually the falling shafts dwindle in number. You smile at their futile attempts to stop you, but your confidence is soon shaken by a pack of snarling Warhounds breaking out of the woods to your right; they are off the leash and hungry for blood. You are less than five hundred yards from Ruanon, but the Warhounds are closing in.
(I can fight or try and run faster. Outrun Warhounds. Well, might as well try, I can always turn back and fight if it fails.)
You try to ignore your aching legs and the fear that knots your stomach by forcing your concentration on the sun-flag, a fluttering symbol of hope in the distance. Your face is streaked with sweat, and your lungs feel as though they will burst, but you dare not slacken your pace; the thought of Warhound fangs closing and tugging on your skin is all you need to drive you forward.
At four hundred yards, you can see that the barricade and watchtower are inhabited, but at this distance the faces you can see are only a line of small, pink dots on the walls. At three hundred yards, you run into some gruesome remains, where the corpses of bandits lie twisted on the ground, most killed by arrows. Many have lain in the open for weeks; a flock of startled carrion crows rise shrieking from their feast as you race through the bodies. You turn away in disgust.
Suddenly a new sound drifts across the plain: the sound of cheering. The beleaguered defenders have spotted you and recognized your green Kai cloak. Two hundred yards to go. You have just passed the ruins of a burnt-out cottage when you feel an agonizing pain tear through your left thigh. An arrow has pierced your leg, and you pitch forward into the mud and ash.
Crouched in the ruined cottage, a bandit sniper raises his bow and takes careful aim at your head.
(I pick a number and roll a 9)
A scream of pain and terror fills the air. The sniper crashes to the ground as the jaws of a Warhound clamp tightly around his neck. Other hounds are drawn by his ghastly screams, and he is soon ripped to pieces. You look up to see a man running towards you from the barricade. He has a shield in one hand and a longbow in the other; it is Captain D'Val.
He reaches you, breathless from his run, and draws an arrow from his quiver. The Warhounds, tired of their victim, are in search of fresh sport and are turning their attentions on you. D'Val aims and fires, drawing another arrow as soon as his bow is empty. Warhounds tumble and crash to the ground around you, felled by D'Val's deadly shafts. The captain grabs you by the arm and swings you over his shoulder in one swift movement, before carrying you back to the barricade. Others run forward to help him, but the bandit archers are now in range and the men are forced back by a hail of arrows. The red shafts whistle past on all sides. Finally you reach the barricade; a wagon is pulled aside and you are carried through the open gap. Captain D'Val is close to exhaustion; he staggers and his men rush to catch him before he drops you to the ground.
A circle of unshaven faces are staring down at you. A soldier cradles your leg as another snaps the shaft buried deeply in your thigh. But before you can even cry out in pain, he has drawn the arrow from your leg with one swift tug. 'You are very lucky, Kai Lord,' he says, as he bandages a handful of Laumspur to your aching limb. 'The wound is clean, and the bleeding is but slight.'
You lose 4 ENDURANCE points, but the soldier's quick thinking and skill has saved your leg from infection. With great care the soldiers carry both you and Captain D'Val into the stone watchtower.
Man I just love that section.