Post by Clannad on Jan 15, 2005 21:31:13 GMT
Jrace knelt beside the still smouldering remains of a camp fire, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. Chances were the target didn't know he was being tracked or he wouldn't of lit a fire for his meal. The possibility of a trap was ever present though, he glanced up, nervous gaze scouring the woods for a hidden archer.
Thankfully no arrow came and no shadowy assassin presented itself. Considering the remains of the fire though, it wouldn't be long before he had to face the man he'd been trailing these past two months. Brushing leaf mould from his leggings he got to his feet, looking around for other traces of his target but found nothing useful so after a few minutes efficient searching once more picked up his man's trail and headed onwards into the wilderness.
Two months. This was his first hunt that had taken him away from his native city and despite the trail growing cold for a few worrying days he'd managed to pick it up again outside this city, Raphoe. The fleeing mark had decided to skirt around the city rather than risking enterring and being indentified, and Jrace hoped this would prove to be the mistake that would finally end the distance between hunter and hunted.
Oscar 'the barn' Grads, said to be a veritable bear of a man, and a well-known drunkard in his area, had finally beaten his wife too hard. The poor woman found the next day in a shallow grave, his haste in disposing of the battered remains undoing him before he could get too much of a head-start. Unused to travelling outside of the cities Oscar had quickly resorted to banditry to replenish the dwindling supplies he'd thought to take with him when he fled.
Jrace grinned thinking about that, maybe the bounty when he caught the man would mean he'd have a whole month of 'resting'. Had to be a house of negotiable favours, in the town they were avoiding. He quickened his silent pace, gaze darting from the foliage ahead to the trail before him, keeping a tight grip on his sword's scabbard to stop the blade making a sound.
Thankfully no arrow came and no shadowy assassin presented itself. Considering the remains of the fire though, it wouldn't be long before he had to face the man he'd been trailing these past two months. Brushing leaf mould from his leggings he got to his feet, looking around for other traces of his target but found nothing useful so after a few minutes efficient searching once more picked up his man's trail and headed onwards into the wilderness.
. . . . .
Two months. This was his first hunt that had taken him away from his native city and despite the trail growing cold for a few worrying days he'd managed to pick it up again outside this city, Raphoe. The fleeing mark had decided to skirt around the city rather than risking enterring and being indentified, and Jrace hoped this would prove to be the mistake that would finally end the distance between hunter and hunted.
Oscar 'the barn' Grads, said to be a veritable bear of a man, and a well-known drunkard in his area, had finally beaten his wife too hard. The poor woman found the next day in a shallow grave, his haste in disposing of the battered remains undoing him before he could get too much of a head-start. Unused to travelling outside of the cities Oscar had quickly resorted to banditry to replenish the dwindling supplies he'd thought to take with him when he fled.
. . . . .
Jrace grinned thinking about that, maybe the bounty when he caught the man would mean he'd have a whole month of 'resting'. Had to be a house of negotiable favours, in the town they were avoiding. He quickened his silent pace, gaze darting from the foliage ahead to the trail before him, keeping a tight grip on his sword's scabbard to stop the blade making a sound.