Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20190827204408/@comment-24510587-20190831174422

Emile lay deathly still.

Above him, the patrol of soldiers slowly walked along the road, past the ditch he had thrown himself into. They were talking among themselves, unaware of the knight in the ditch trying to control his breathing. Nonetheless, that had been too close. Had he acted only a second later, the soldiers would no doubt have spotted him.

He remained exactly where he was, as quiet as he could, until the light of the torches faded and the muttering and talking became too distant to hear, upon which he scrambled out of the ditch and quickly made his way across the dirt road. He had no actual intention to use the road; the risk of encountering people was far too high. It had merely been an obstacle on Emile's perilous trek through the fields and hills of Jehanna.

He had been travelling like this for days now. Ever since the catastrophic failure of Farrun's offensive against Jehanna, and his escape from the battlefield of Cloud Spring, he had been on the run. Avoiding the roads, stealing food from farmland, sleeping in the woods. Jehannan soldiers, who were roaming the area freely since the war, would kill him - or worse - if they found him. No one could be trusted. Nowhere was safe. He couldn't return to the Farrun border, not yet; the troops there would likely have him executed for desertion before he could even get the chance to explain his situation.

The bandage around his left shoulder shifted, and he tried to suppress a groan. During the battle, a Jehannan pike had impaled him there and knocked him right off his horse. He had barely been able to get off the battlefield alive after that. He'd managed to bandage it, but he was no medic, so his solution would not last much longer.

He held his shoulder and grit his teeth. He bit through the pain for now, and kept moving. The further from Cloud Spring, the better...