Thread: The Prophecy (Tesora & CharmSnake)

Although it was nearly midday the heavy clouds cast dusk over the forest. It had been raining for nine days and it was coming down as hard as ever. Kept dry by the hood of his leather cloak he sat crouched in the bough of a tree observing the horsemen in the road. Distant thunder rumbled. Twenty-five feet off the ground in this poor light and wrapped in a tree bark vest, the brutes would never spot him. There were six of them, jovially grunting and cussing at one another, blissfully unaware of his presence. Zol's bandits, he could tell easily by the ragged sideburns and beards and the flamboyantly jeweled swords and hand crafted armor. Following Zol by the promise of riches and power, they flaunted their spoils everywhere with no fear. As expected, the word had gotten around that Zol had finally moved upon the castle that morn. The charismatic zealot and power hungry madman had been terrorizing the land for over a year. His power had risen quickly and continued to grow. The bandits were waiting for someone unfortunate. Not that Zol's aggressions were much of his concern, but he wasn't about to let them get away with harming anyone. Not in his forest anyway, anyhow. It would not be permitted. The bough bobbed gently under his steps as he moved smoothly along its length and hopped onto the solid arm of an oak. From there he picked his way across and dropped a few feet into the soft slope of the hillside, scurrying up over the crest stepping only on tree roots and avoiding twigs and leaves. From here, out of sight of the bandits he could see the road before the bend around which the villains lay in wait. A cart was coming in the distance. He could hear it, two horses ... no four ... it would be a coach, probably leaving from the castle. He could tell by the jingles of the rigging. There was time. He could stop it. He would slide down the slope, make haste through the brush and wave it down in the road. He stepped forward but another sound halted him in his tracks. It was the whinny of a horse from the other direction. Peering down between the trees he saw one of the bandits in the road. The barbarian stopped and turned his mount about, hooves sinking into the mud. I don't see them yet! he reported. Bah, soon enough! one shouted back. They had no idea how close their prey was, but the delay meant that he could no longer divert the coach in time. More stormy thunder rolled overhead. The horseman trotted back around the bend to his cohorts as the coach neared. Quickly he returned the way that he had come, easing down the wet slope until he could grab a branch and swing himself down to the forest floor. Following a deer path the footing was solid enough but it was difficult to not disturb some of the foliage as he ran. He was certain that the bandits would be far too preoccupied to notice, especially at this distance - a distance that he needed to close swiftly. It was at least a hundred yards and there was little time. He arrived at the large poplar, jumped and grabbed the lowest bough and swung himself up. From there he stepped along and hopped to the next tree, hoisting himself to a higher branch and allowing a clasp of thunder to disguise the sound of the rustling leaves. Whoaa there! Hahaha! one bellowed. Horses whinnied loudly. 'Ello! What do we 'ave 'ere? He was too late. They had stopped the coach and the archer sitting next to the driver already had a bolt through his chest. The two swordsmen leapt to the ground at the ready. There would be much bloodshed.