Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24510587-20190219030909/@comment-5543592-20190219233639

Meyline was most certainly not faster than a bunch of half-naked, wiry men and women who only ate what they could chase down.

But they let her run. Let her think she could get away.

She dashed away from the camp, into the night. The rough ground was unfamilar to her. She tripped and stumbled, knicking her knees and elbows.

The night was quiet around her and for a second it almost appeared as if she was alone.

But they were there, following, invisible and silent. Close enough to make the hairs on the back of her necks stand up. They didn't scream or shriek now. No twigs broke beneath their bare feet. No soles scuffed the ground.

They were in the hunt, in their element. Meyline was prey.

Cade's helmet jolted and caught on the last tooth. He gasped for breath, struggling to fill his lungs.

They had removed his greaves and were nearly through his cuirass. In a second he would be vulnerable. And dead.

Cade closed his eyes, felt the night air hit his face as the Forsworn finally pulled his helmet free.

Forsworn. Forsworn cowards. Savages. Evil. They were no match for the Augur of Justice. No match for him. They dare touch his armor? They dare?

His eyes snapped open as the dagger fell towards his face and Cade raised a gauntleted hand to slap the weapon aside and responsed with a punch delivered by his other fist. There was a popping noise and the Forsworn was thrown off him. Cade swung his leg about, knocking the other Forsworn away. The Reachmen moved backwards, catching themselves before they hit the ground.

They watched him with cold eyes, stark white when contrasted against faces streaked with paint and blood.

They came at him, silent as the grave. Cade raised both fists, ready to defend himself.

Blood dribbled out from beneath his armor.