Post by The Light on Nov 24, 2012 10:27:14 GMT -5
He came to a halt on the northern side of the bridge that crossed over the Last River. Swinging from his saddle he tied the reins of his horse to a small pole that stood as part of the bridge. He had first noticed the rider’s the day before and they had gradually closed in on him until now, he could hear their horse’s hoof beats and the shouts of the men. He presumed they had come for the horse, stolen it was, from Lord Stark’s personal stable. Or perhaps they were more interested in serving him justice; stealing a Lord's horse was a serious crime after all and the Stark’s liked to work that way. To Vickon it didn’t matter, they weren’t getting either.
A small hill lay to the east and Vickon scrambled up to its peak. A thin layer of snow covered the land but it was light and did not hamper his progress. Reaching the peak, Vickon unslung his shortbow and stuck some arrows into the snow in front of him, ready for quick use. The riders came into view then. Five of them in total, all well –armed and on horseback. The dire wolf of Stark was emblazoned on their tunics and on their shields. Spotting the abandoned horse they drew to a halt at the far side of the bridge.
Vickon took note of which one was giving the orders, the leader of the troupe. That one had to die first. The first three, including their leader slowly edged their way along the bridge, whilst the other two remained on the far side. The leader barked some orders and the two men who had crossed the bridge with him dismounted. They slowly edged their way towards the stolen horse and Vickon decided there was no better time.
Vickon loosed an arrow and it soared towards his target, the leader. It missed by mere inches and the captain swerved his horse around at the sound of arrow fire. However, he was unable to respond as another arrow quickly succeeded where its forerunner had failed. The leader crumpled over his horse, but remained strapped to his saddle.
The two nearest to Vickon looked up in shock but they were not who Vickon had eyes for. The two on the far side could not be allowed to escape. The horses. Kill the horses. Vickon sent two arrows to the far side of the bridge, each striking their designated target. Both of the horses fell, pinning their riders beneath them. Having recuperated, the two closest to him began to charge up the hill towards him. He had time to fire one more arrow before they were upon him. He missed. Drawing his axe however, he was able to quickly deal with his two opponents, these men were no veterans. Looking back to the far side of the bridge he saw that one of the men had freed himself from his horse, a well placed arrow soon took care of him however.
With the fight all but over, Vickon made himself to the far side of the bridge. There, the last man still lay trapped underneath his mount. ‘Mercy, please mercy.’ The man whispered, and Vickon gave it to him.
(Vickon's Bow skill improves to Expert)
A small hill lay to the east and Vickon scrambled up to its peak. A thin layer of snow covered the land but it was light and did not hamper his progress. Reaching the peak, Vickon unslung his shortbow and stuck some arrows into the snow in front of him, ready for quick use. The riders came into view then. Five of them in total, all well –armed and on horseback. The dire wolf of Stark was emblazoned on their tunics and on their shields. Spotting the abandoned horse they drew to a halt at the far side of the bridge.
Vickon took note of which one was giving the orders, the leader of the troupe. That one had to die first. The first three, including their leader slowly edged their way along the bridge, whilst the other two remained on the far side. The leader barked some orders and the two men who had crossed the bridge with him dismounted. They slowly edged their way towards the stolen horse and Vickon decided there was no better time.
Vickon loosed an arrow and it soared towards his target, the leader. It missed by mere inches and the captain swerved his horse around at the sound of arrow fire. However, he was unable to respond as another arrow quickly succeeded where its forerunner had failed. The leader crumpled over his horse, but remained strapped to his saddle.
The two nearest to Vickon looked up in shock but they were not who Vickon had eyes for. The two on the far side could not be allowed to escape. The horses. Kill the horses. Vickon sent two arrows to the far side of the bridge, each striking their designated target. Both of the horses fell, pinning their riders beneath them. Having recuperated, the two closest to him began to charge up the hill towards him. He had time to fire one more arrow before they were upon him. He missed. Drawing his axe however, he was able to quickly deal with his two opponents, these men were no veterans. Looking back to the far side of the bridge he saw that one of the men had freed himself from his horse, a well placed arrow soon took care of him however.
With the fight all but over, Vickon made himself to the far side of the bridge. There, the last man still lay trapped underneath his mount. ‘Mercy, please mercy.’ The man whispered, and Vickon gave it to him.
(Vickon's Bow skill improves to Expert)