Journal Thirteen
I mentioned something about a plan.
Or lack there of. There was a general outline of something relating to a bandit attack. But I wouldn't call it a plan. For one thing, the carriage still held their arms. So aside from the saddlebags (which they had stolen), they had a few weapons that they had also stolen from the guards at the prison. A sword or two. At most. They allowed some distance between the carriage and themselves when they were outside the city, but they closed the gap in the Castillian countryside. I imagine that a lot hinged on the people that the guards were protecting, Reynaldo and the others' friends. There were two. Along with this Montoya fellow there was another Avalon, another swordswoman. I was hoping that maybe they had the plan� When the group chose their moment (I decided, to once again, to stand aside), what followed would have been considered comic. If there hadn't been so much blood involved. The group split up, William, Volker, and Patrik charged the carriage first. I mentioned that they didn't possess firearms. Unfortunately for William and the others, that didn't prevent the Inquisition from using theirs. Being at the forefront, William was the one who initially demanded their surrender, therefore he was the first to get shot. He took it well, I suppose. As well as one can take being shot. The guards missed the Volker and Patrik, but got from their horses and began to work on them with their swords. There wasn't much more work to do. Volker and Patrik still had their injuries from the earlier encounter at the harbor. The carriage had veered off, and I expected two things, neither of which happened. One, for Sabine and Reynaldo to charge the remaining guards around the carriage and "rescue" their companions, or two, for the two (I assume fully armed swordsman/woman) to attack from within, and help the others. Again, neither happened. Sabine and Reynaldo immediately went to help their ailing companions. The carriage remained as it was. Dismayed, I tried to distract the remaining guards around the carriage with calls to the forest, alluding to more bandits there. They could not see me, so I hoped that they would at least scatter. No such luck. But luck hadn't completely abandoned these new associates of mine. Because, irony of ironies, there were actually more bandits in the Castillian forest. The dangerous kind.Return to Uncommon Valor