Post by ostercelba on Oct 30, 2012 18:01:36 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=eeeeee][atrb=width,500,true] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; border: 10px solid #025185; float: left; margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 5px;][/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; margin-top: -2px; width: 410px; color: #585858;]— WILL YOU YIELD AND THIS AVOID?[/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; font-size: 20px; margin-top: -6px; margin-bottom: -3px; width: 410px; color: #585858; letter-spacing: -1px;]OR GUILTY IN DEFENCE,[/style] [STYLE=text-align: justify; padding: 5px; border-left: 7px solid #025185; border-top: 5px solid #025185; background-color: #f3f3f3; width: 400px; font-size: 10px; color: #585858; margin-left: 20px;]BE THUS DESTROYED. Hidden eyes carefully viewed the dusty road from leafy concealment. The path mostly straight, running east and west, though it was buffered in the north by an insurmountable plateau that climbed hundreds of feet upwards. The road had one long curve where it was forced to bend away from a thick finger of trees that extended from the expansive wooded area in south. The curve ran approximately three hundred yards before the roadway became straight again. From the sky it seemed as if the road recoiled from the encroachment of the forest. Fifty men now lay silent in this wood. A sharp wind whistled overhead, spraying pine needles upon these men gathered below. Obscured from the road, they had waited now for two hours, assured their prey would appear shortly. Crouched at the head of this small column was Oster, clad in mottled greens and browns as always. The rest of the men assembled behind him were similarly garbed. With the dark of night upon them, they blended perfectly with their wooded surroundings. This eve shall be the work of butchers, though it is not we who shall pay the bill. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the array of his followers. He had hand-picked each one, which was not so strange for this night's purpose. Each man displayed tenacity and discipline, two qualities which he would be in dire need of if this pursuit was to be executed faithfully. The steady clop of horses' hooves drew his gaze westward. Three wagons moved easterly upon the road, still straight, as they had not yet reached that great bend where the trees reached out. Each wagon had one rider and one guard seated next to him. On foot, flanking each wagon was two men to each side. Visibly, six armed men per wagon, eighteen in total not counting who, if any, traveled inside. From what Oster could see, only the carriage drawn in between the other two seemed suitable for transporting more people. The other two were supply wagons and clearly marked as so. The wagons rolled forward, starting on the slight bend. The torches affixed to each vehicle flickered brightly, especially when the wind was upon them. The wind would help conceal the sound of his men even more, as it blew towards them. Another couple minutes and the convoy would directly ahead of them. He turned, slowly, carefully, and motioned to the two men directly behind him. Taking quiet steps, they drew in close to their leader. "The wind will mask our sound until we clear the wood. Silence until I give the signal, then forwards." The men nodded and were about to turn until Oster clutched both of their shoulders for one final instruction. "Go now, tell each man of his purpose. We shall be forward in a moment. And when you charge, yell like furies." A firm squeeze was given to each shoulder as the two passed the message along to the men behind them. Weapons were unsheathed with silence. Fell deeds would soon be acted out. The wagons rolled by closer now, a few moments from the finger of trees. The guards either wore or carried masks. The royals let every subject celebrate the Night of One Thousand Masks, even if they were on dull escort duty. The soldiers seemed to march sluggishly, their thoughts elsewhere at the moment, perhaps occupied with the thought of drunken wenches at the parties they would attend after their watch had ended. Oster rose and his arm extended, fist clenched. The men behind him did as well, fanning out to the edges of the wood. Rummaging in his haversack, Oster produced a half mask. Colored jet black, its only facial marking was a grey sunburst around the eye. Almost in unison, each man behind him donned their own mask, exactly the same in color and markings. It was only fitting that on this night their identities should be concealed. The first wagon rolled by the center of the wood. With Nupalah clutched tightly in his right hand, his left hand unclenched from the first and motioned ahead. All fifty of his men moved forwards from the wood, slowly until they cleared roots and any other snags. Suddenly the line accelerated to a full sprint, and in ghastly unison did their voices rise up together, the shrill shrieking noise piercing the quiet night air. They would be upon the wagons in a few moments. [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN[/style] |