Agnes Smith CROSSING THE ALPS Outside Rome 849 A.D. ..... Philip smiles coldly back at you, but doesn't respond to your threat. He doesn't follow you, and soon they are out of sight behind you. It takes almost an hour of riding, before you see the convent ahead. <><><><><> [Agnes] She rides up to the convent, dismounting at the gate, and ringing the bell. To the sister that answers it, she says, "I wish to stay a while in the seclusion of the convent." <><><><><> [GM] The nun lets you in, and says "Of course, you may stay here." She shows you to another small room in the same wing you stayed last time. She does not ask any questions. You don't recognize her, but you do pass by another sister whose face you recall from your last visit...and she recognizes you too. Her eyes widen slightly, and she whispers to the woman next to her. Soon it will be all over the convent that "the British woman with the sword" is back. Before leaving, the nun does turn to you and say "I hope you will not feel a need to wear armor and weapons around the convent? This is holy ground, after all." You've barely had time to strip off the heavy chainmail shirt and get yourself more comfortable, when Sister Donna arrives. "Agnes!" she says with evident delight. "I heard you were back, but had to see it with my own eyes. How nice, though I hope you are not fleeing trouble again?" She arches an eyebrow. "And I thought you were going to return to us to learn Greek," she adds with a mock-woeful expression. <><><><><> [Agnes] She spreads her hands with a shrug. "And here I am." "There were things I had to do in Rome," she continues, as she finishes making herself presentable. With a hint of sadness, she says, "Events overtook me, and I didn't need to stay any longer. I thought that this was as pleasant a place to stay as any - more than most even - whilst I make up my mind what to do next." "Maybe I'll stay a while, learn some Greek, and then move on. I am a little homesick, and I may yet make my way back to Britain." She settles down to chat with Donna, and find out what has been going on since was last here, many months before. "And what of you, Sister Donna? How are you? Have things been quiet at the convent?" <><><><><> [GM] "Britain? Very dangerous, don't you think? I understand it's being plundered by Vikings from one end of the coast to the other." She chats pleasantly with you, and in response to your question, replies, "Oh, mostly quiet. There was a very handsome soldier who visited a few days ago. He stayed the night, before proceeding on to Rome." You cannot tell if her expression as she watches you is expectant, or just the normal polite pause as one waits for a reply. "In any case, the Church, alas, is not supporting many monastaries and convents nowadays, even this close to Rome. We are running out of money....the Abbess says we cannot accept any new initiates unless they bring the equivalent of a dowry, which goes against what has been our policy for almost a hundred years." She sighs. "These are hard times for the Church. Some say we are in a decline, though I don't see how that's really possible. God doesn't wax and wane according to events on Earth, after all, so how can His Church?" <><><><><> [Agnes] "I believe Britain may well be that dangerous, but I may go nonetheless." She watches Sister Donna for any hint of knowing more than she says when she mentions the soldier. "His name wouldn't happen to have been Philip, would it?" she asks, after just the right length of pause. Agnes nods sagely as Sister Donna explains the situation with regards to the church. "Alas, I won't be able to help much there, as I have no intention of becoming a novice. Though, no doubt the Reverend Mother, will wish to charge what she can for my Greek tuition. And speaking of the good Abbess, would you escort me to her. I ought to pay my respects, and ask for some tuition in Greek. [OOC - what time of year is it?] <><><><><> [GM] Lavinia died in January....it is now late February. "Why yes, I believe that was his name!" Sister Donna says, looking surprised. "Do you know him?" "Yes, I am sure the Reverend Mother will be pleased to see you again also." She smiles and rises to escort you to her. <><><><><> [Agnes] "I happened to be outside the city, and I met a handsome man named Philip on the road that leads from here to Rome. He seemed handsome enough. We talked a while and then went our separate ways." She curtsies upon entering the Abbess's room. "Reverend Mother, it is a pleasure to see you again. I trust you are well." The pleasantries take a few minutes, and then Agnes raises the subject of a Greek tutor, and is quite ready to haggle about the price. <><><><><> [GM] The Reverend Mother is as courteous as before. You settle on a fee that is agreeable to both of you, and the Abbess tells you your lessons can begin tomorrow. Your stay at the convent settles into a comfortable routine....Sister Evelina tutors you in Greek in the morning and evening, and the rest of the time, you are mostly free to do as you please, though you find you gain more acceptance among the sisters when you help with the chores. They don't expect you to help with all the chores, however, nor to participate in their six times-daily prayers. The library is available to you, as before....and once again you notice the small door that is not used by any but a select few nuns, including the Abbess and Sister Donna. <><><><><> [Agnes] There is little point in trying to go anywhere in the winter, so she resigns herself to staying in the convent in the Spring. She helps out with the chores and looks after her horse, and she practices with her sword, shield and sling. She prepares her equipment ready for a few more years on the road. After her morning prayers, she takes the horse for a gallop around the boundary of the convent's land. And of course, she learns Greek, and reads avidly anything of interest in the convent's library. As the days draw into weeks, the door intrigues her. She tries to arrange to be standing in the right place to see through it, should it be opened She tries to gauge the shape and size of the room beyond, by the adjacent rooms that she can go into. She notes whether the door is locked by people entering or leaving. Though she is sorely tempted, she restrains herself from actually trying the door herself. <><><><><> [GM] April, 849 A.D. You start to become an unofficial part of convent life. The older nuns are rather disapproving of your weapons practice, as it's giving the younger ones adventuresome ideas, but most like you, and more than once you're asked if you'd consider taking vows and staying here permanently. You can't get a very good measure of the "forbidden room", as some of the surrounding rooms are also areas that are accessible to you, such as the Reverend Mother's personal quarters and the kitchen. But it can't be too large. It does not appear to be locked; who would violate a forbidden sanctum within a convent? The only time you get a glimpse past the doorway, as Sister Donno emerges carrying a book, you see a shelf with more books behind her, before she shuts the door. <><><><><> [Agnes] She settles into a routine, always aware that she will have to leave come the spring. And spring comes. She makes her final preparations to leave the convent. "I am going to leave for the north soon, Donna, maybe Britain, maybe not. Before I go though, tell me, what are the books in the room of the library that only a few go to view?" <><><><><> [GM] Sister Donna smiles at you. "Old, valuable books, that we fear getting lost, damaged or stolen. Convent records, histories written by us....things that are of no interest to the younger sisters, or casual visitors." "I will be sorry to see you go. I hope you will think of us, and perhaps come back again someday." <><><><><> [Agnes] "I have enjoyed my stay, Donna, but it is time for me to move on. Maybe I'll be back, but it will be a while before I am." She says her farewells to all whom she knows, and finally to the Abbess and Donna, before mounting up, and heading north. She skirts Rome, and heads for the Alps <><><><><> [GM] You never traveled the Alps alone before. You came across with Sancho's caravan, and found them very sparsely inhabited. There are not many brigands to worry about, since there are so few travelers or villages for them to prey on. Getting there, of course, requires the usual hazardous journey. The length of Italy is infested with bandits and raiders, only a few of whom are marauding Saracens. You manage to avoid most trouble for many days, but as the great mountains come into sight on the northern horizon, you come to a halt on the road you're traveling, and gaze with dismay on the only decent river crossing for miles, which appears to be the encampment of a very large and motley band of men. You'll have to either brave your way through them (not an idea that sits well in your gut), or go off the road and travel for miles through the forests to the east or west, and that will mean spending at least one night alone in the wilderness. You've done it before, and never found it enjoyable. Or you can double back, stay a while at the small town you left behind, and either wait for this group (whoever they are) to go away, or for a large merchant caravan or pilgrims' procession to come through, with whom you could travel with a little more safety. <><><><><> [Agnes] She gazes with a certain amount of dismay upon the sight before her, and decides to go a different way. She wheels off the road to head West through the forest. "I've grown soft," she chides herself, "It's only some woods. Staying overnight in them is not going to be terribly arduous." She takes her time, picking her path through the woods that will be easy for her mount, and finishing early for the day to allow herself time to find a good site to camp and to prepare her meal in daylight. <><><><><> [GM] It's easy to tell yourself it's just camping in the woods, when the sun is up. After it sets, the trees become less innocuous. You shiver under your blanket, not entirely because of the cold, listening to distant howls, and eerie wails from nightbirds. There is certainly a reason why almost nobody travels alone. (Well, the reason is bandits and other human menaces, primarily, but in the middle of a forest at night, it's easy to substitute other threats in your mind.) Several times during the night you wonder if wolves are circling your campfire, or if perhaps there are worse creatures dwelling in the forests of northern Italy. Serpents, shapeshifters, blood-sucking bats, ogres and trolls...some of the monsters that haunt Italy are different from those you grew up fearing in Northumbria, while others apparently exist all over the world. You wake up before dawn the following morning, break camp, and continue along the river until you find a ford that is not guarded by a small army, just a small village. You continue north, until you reach the Alps, where you will probably have to spend more nights alone in the wilds, this time in the mountains. It never seemed to bother you this much when you were a traveling tinker, but you did try not to be caught out of sight of a village after sundown. Perhaps you really have gotten too used to the comforts of civilization. <><><><><> [Agnes] She looked at the impressive mountains... and yawned. She had slept, yes, but with her hand on the hilt of her sword and she kept waking up imagining sounds off in the nearby trees. She was glad that she had called in at the village now, and bought a cooked meal. That and discovering the location of a chalet for the high pastures. She had got rough directions for it, and for the easiest route through the passes. She only hoped that she could find her way, otherwise it was going to be a cold journey. It may have seemed like spring in Rome, but there was still a lot of snow about up here in the mountains. She headed onwards, looking for the chalet in which she would stay overnight. <><><><><> [GM] You find the chalet easily enough. It's not being used by shepherds yet, as many of the pastures are still covered with snow, so you have it to yourself. You sleep fairly comfortably, once you warm the place up with a fire, and the only sounds you hear that night are distant and indistinct. This feeling of security begins to fade as you continue on your way thorugh the mountains, and around the middle of the second day, get the feeling of being watched. You can't see or hear anyone, but the back of your neck keeps prickling. Assuming no wrong turns or other difficulties, it will be at least three more days before you're heading down the other side of the range, into Burgundy. <><><><><> [Agnes] She has been too long out of the saddle. She feels like she is being watched. "Paranoia?" she asks herself. She acknowledges that it might be, but that it might also be that there is someone out there. She makes sure her sword, sling and shield are all handy. She tries to take things more slowly, occasionally looking back, as if to see how far she'd come and to give the horse a breather. In actuality it was to see if she could spot anything untoward. She knew that the bleak pass was not going to allow her to hide, perhaps it would make others more obvious too. But at the end of the day she knows she will just have to camp, and maybe just doze rather than sleep until she can reach civilization. There was certainly no point in pushing on in the darkness, she'd just lose her horse. <><><><><> [GM] The second day passes much as the first....you see no one, but constantly feel as if you're being watched. Occasionally you pass signs that other people have been here before. There are no trails or roads here, in the high mountains, but the easiest passes are the ones most frequently travelled. A few merchant caravans and groups of pilgrims make the overland journey to Rome every year, so it is not impossible you could encounter other travelers. And while the Alps are very sparsely populated, there are occasional villages. Still, for the most part you feel very much alone, and dwarfed by the ancient mountains surrounding you on all sides. Or rather, you would feel alone, except for the sensation of being watched. Late at night, curled up by your fire, with your horse tethered nearby, your paranoia turns out to be well-founded. For just an instant, you feel the Quickening, brushing against your senses. No sooner does it stir you awake than it fades, but you definitely felt it. <><><><><> [Agnes] She is quietly telling herself that she is more than half way through the mountains, and that there is nothing to worry about, when she feels the quickening. She jerks alert, reaching for the hilt of her sword. As the brushed sensation fades, she stands up and shouts. "We both know now. Why don't you come out!" <><><><><> [GM] There is no answer. You can't see anything beyond the dim glow from the embers of your fire, and nothing makes a sound. <><><><><> [Agnes] She sits down again to an uneasy night of waiting for the quickening to come, her weapons in easy reach. She determines to push hard the next day, to see if she can reach civilisation before meeting the immortal out there. But at the same time, she will need to be careful in case he has set a trap or ambush. <><><><><> [GM] You can't shake the lingering feeling of being watched. But you don't feel the Quickening again the next day, nor during the night that follows. Worrying about the Immortal who's hiding out there, the rest of your journey is full of false alarms and suspicions of every narrow mountain pass or Alpine forest. But you don't sense him again, not while alone in the wilds, and not when you stop briefly at a tiny village nestled in a still- frozen valley, which turns out to be a place Sancho's caravan stopped when you came over with him a few years ago. You didn't recognize it at first, but the man who runs the tiny hostelry recognizes you. "What happen caravan?" he asks, in his difficult to understand Vulgar Latin, so far removed from Church Latin or the dialect spoken in Rome that it's practically another language. "I remember you not come back from Rome with caravan, or with them next time through. Travel alone dangerous!" He shakes his head at the absurdity of a woman crossing the Alps by herself. <><><><><> [Agnes] "There wasn't a caravan going through, so I thought I'd do the journey myself. I got split up from the rest of the caravan, and now I'm looking to catch them up." She decides to continue being the foolish woman, maybe she was being foolish anyway, but to spend a day resting in the village. Worrying about the other immortal had meant that sleep had been short and disturbed for the past few nights. With a bolted door and shuttered window she would make amends for that. Then, once she had recovered, she would carry on. Maybe once she reached a big town she would meet up with a caravan going her way. <><><><><> [GM] In the middle of the night, the Quickening jolts you awake. This time it lingers for a few seconds, before fading. <><><><><> [Agnes] She leaps out of bed, reaching for her sword, only to relax again when the quickening goes. She smiles at her circumstance, remembering poor Reynald in Germany, and relaxes again. She checks that her armour is ready to put on, and that he doors and windows are secure, and then settles down to sleep again. <><><><><> [GM] The rest of your night passes undisturbed, and when you rise in the morning, nothing in the village seems amiss. You continue on, until you reach the top of the slopes leading down into Burgundy. Along the way you passed one small group of travelers, who included a couple of men with swords who looked you over but decided not to give you any trouble, and a single hiker with a bow slung over his shoulder, heading for parts unknown elsewhere in the Alps. He did not even speak any language in common with you, but nodded civily enough and continued on his way. Perhaps your mysterious tracker is still trailing you, or perhaps not. But if he continues to follow you, it will be more difficult for him to remain unseen, once you leave the mountains. <><><><><> [Agnes] She continues on, occasionally stopping to look back or to look forward an survey the route ahead. She is not quite so fearful of her mystery pursuit now that she knows it is an immortal. At least she should get some warning. A shiver runs down her spine. **Unless it is a hunter who cheats. A bow would be deadly on this exposed mountainside.** Her fears return, more powerful than before, becoming her leading source of anxiety, even more than the mountain trolls she had worried about earlier. She continues down the pass, hoping to get out of the mountains as quickly as possible. <><><><><> [GM] Ever-fearful of an arrow whistling from behind, you spur your horse down the mountainsides, until at last you reach the first small town at the foot of the Alps. Like the village you left behind, you recognize this place as one you and Sancho passed through on your fateful first trip to Rome. You are now in southern Burgundy, within the section of Charlemagne's partitioned empire known as the Middle Kingdom, ruled by Lothair I. The Alps loom behind you, and somewhere up there, you are sure, hides your mysterious stalker. If he followed you down from the mountains, he would have to be a great distance behind you now, and from here, it is unlikely that he will pick up your trail unless he is exceptionally determined. <><><><><> [Agnes] She hadn't appreciated just quite how tense she had become until she reaches the village. The sense of relief is overwhelming. She decides to stay a day to rest and get clean, before moving on. "The horse will get a rest too," she tells herself, "and I suppose I had better start looking for things to buy and sell." She ponders a moment, and then realises the that will mean that she is headed first for Bordeaux, since she knows what fetches a good price there. She wonders whether she should join a caravan again, but answers herself by asking herself what she'd do if it went the wrong way. With a smile, she realises that there is a right direction and a wrong one. The day after next, she will start to head towards Bordeaux, and then head north. <><><><><> [GM] The empire that Charlemagne ruled was the most orderly since the fall of Rome, and law and order actually reigned in some areas. But it was never a settled, peaceful land, and it has become much less so since his heirs began fragmenting the Carolingan Empire. The many amazed looks and shaking heads you see as you travel west towards Bordeaux indicate what people think of a person traveling alone, especially a woman. But you get a nasty reminder of why you stopped being a traveling tinker when you round a bend in the poorly maintained road leading towards Vienne, and find yourself facing fourteen armed men on horses. They might be soldiers, but if so they're part-time soldiers at best; rght now they look more like brigands. They all look up at you, and none of them has a nice look in their eyes. <><><><><> [Agnes] There might be other, better, solutions, but she wasn't about to stop and think about what they might be. She wheeled her horse off the road, and spurred it into a gallop. The chances were high that they would pursue, but if they did try to make sure that there were less than a dozen when they caught her. **None at all would be better.** she told herself, but she didn't expect that outcome. She looked ahead, trying to pick a route that would be a bit of a challenge to her pursuit, and if possible, one where she might shake them off. <><><><><> [GM] The men look at you, then look at each other as you wheel your horse around and gallop into the woods. You have several seconds of bemused surprise, before one of them calls out something to his comrades, and then spurs his horse after yours. One by one, most of the other men break away from the group and follow. The highlands have dropped off, but you are not yet into the fertile lowlands of Aquitaine. The ground is moderately rocky, and while this particular stretch of road was heavily forested, it will thin quickly, as the woods here tend to be not as thick as on the Alpine slopes. You can hear them galloping after you, whistling and yelling, as if pursuing a hart. Zig-zagging and other diversions may space them out a little more, but enough are hanging close to you that it seems very unlikely you're going to outrun or evade them completely. <><><><><> [Agnes] Evasion looks like it isn't going to work. She starts to look for a spot for a defiant stand. She certainly doesn't want to lose her horse, so it will have to be some sort of path on a very steep slop that will allow her to dismount and keep herself between the men and her horse. Then, with her sword, she'll just have to dissuade them from molesting her. **Maybe I'll start travelling in company again,** she tells herself, but she knows she doesn't really want to. <><><><><> [GM] It's hard to find just the sort of terrain you want; since you're no longer in the mountains, there aren't many convenient steep, narrow slopes. The best you can do is a slope with a lot of trees on it, the steepest you can find. It isn't steep or wooded enough to prevent them from circling up and around if they want to, but it will at least be inconvenient. The lead three men slow down as they see you've halted. They smile. "Oh, you're a pretty one," the lead man says. "Why ever did you run off like that?" "A woman shouldn't be out on the road alone," says the man next to him. "It's dangerous. Won't you let us escort you?" They don't even pull off sarcasm very well. They immediately break into nasty laughter. The next group of three or four men is visible through the trees, riding to catch up. <><><><><> [Agnes] She pulls her coif up from its resting place around her neck. "Thank you no. I am quite safe enough without your assistance." Taking up her shield, she dismounts and quickly ties her horsess reins round a branch. She knows that if she tries to fight from horseback, she'd as likely as not end up falling down the hill on her horse. Drawing her sword, and stepping a couple of paces towards them and away from her horse, she adds, "But thank you for your kind offer." <><><><><> [GM] One of the men laughs. "Why, she has a sword!" "And a shield and armor," the other man adds, sounding bemused, but he is looking at you a little more warily. While he stays on his horse, two of the other men dismount, and begin towards you, hands on their own hilts. "Now, you don't really think you're going to fend all of us off with a man's sword, do you girl?" "We're just looking for a little fun," the other one says. "If you're cooperative, you might even enjoy it. Don't make me take that thing away from you." The speaker smiles unpleasantly, but he is staying out of lunging range, for the moment. You probably have less than a minute before the next trio of riders arrives. <><><><><> [Agnes] She realised that stopping to try to persuade them will do her no good - more will arrive soon. She steps forward briskly towards the one on the uphill side, keeping her shield ready to defend against the one slightly downhill - once he draws his sword of course. She swings a solid blow at the man, not bothering about where it lands, being more concerned about it hitting him, and hoping to follow it up quickly with another, before he has time to draw his sword. If only she can incapacitate him, she will be able to deal with the other more easily. <><><><><> [GM] Your sudden attack wipes the cocky leer off his face. He starts pulling his sword out, but not fast enough; you chop down into his thigh, carving off a huge chunk of flesh. His yell is cut short by your second slash cross-wise across his body. He reels back, and stumbles and falls backwards down the slope, bleeding from two mortal wounds. The man on the horse goes wide-eyed. The man downhill from you exclaims "S***!" and draws his own sword. He comes at you swearing. "Now you're dead, bitch!" <><><><><> [Agnes] She turns to face the downhill opponent. Once again speed is of the essence, and she cares more for hitting than for location. She steps towards him, hoping to strike the first blow, but being prepared to parry and be second. <><><><><> [GM] Being a little more prepared, this swordsman is able to parry your attack, but it forces him a few steps back. Then he comes at you again, swinging furiously, but not too effectively. While you parry with your shield and hack him in the side, the man on the horse is trying to ride up and around you to attack from the other side, but in the time it's taken him to start up the slope, your second opponent has already gone down, with two grievious wounds. He just collapses. The first man you cut down is crawling towards his horse, very slowly. <><><><><> [Agnes] She steps away from her collapsing second opponent and turns her attention to the third. She starts towards the nearest tree on the way towards her horse, that will interfere with the horseman's attack. "Don't you think you would be better off tending your companions' wounds, rather than trying to join them, bleeding on the ground?" She is quite prepared to parry his attack and bring down his horse, if that proves to be the easier target, even though she'd rather hit him. <><><><><> [GM] The horseman sees where you're heading, and instead of coming directly for you, begins moving towards your horse, trying to get between you. "You can't fight off all of us," he says, but stays out of reach of your sword. The next group of three is almost here. Their faces reflect shock as they see two of their comrades lying on the ground. <><><><><> [Agnes] Once it is obvious that he is interposing himself between her and her mount, she rushes him, hoping to get close enough to him to swing before he can move away. And anyway, is he moves away, she'll get at her horse. She wants him out of her way, one way or another before the others get to her. <><><><><> [GM] In close quarters surrounded by trees, the horseman can't easily outmaneuver someone on foot. To avoid your rush he could spur his horse forward, but that would both possibly give you a shot at his back, and show his comrades the sight of him running from a woman. So he has the horse stand its ground and prepares to defend himself. He blocks your first slash at his body with his sword, barely stops the second, as you nick the thick leather vest he's wearing. Then he swings down at your head with great force- had you not interposed your shield just in time, it probably would have split your skull. He wrenches his sword from your shield, and the horse shies to the side as you swing at his leg. The horseman is a little better than his comrades, and manages to whip his sword down to block this attack also. However, he's not expecting another attack so quickly. You bring your sword up and slash it across his belly, cutting through the leather and causing him to cry out in pain. Your blade comes back wet. He leans forward a little in the saddle, and kicks his horse to make it sidestep away from you some more, as he tries to recover from the blow. The other three riders are now coming to a halt, just downhill, where the other two horses are now turning about nervously. <><><><><> [Agnes] She steps quickly towards him, aiming to land one more blow on him, before glancing back at her horse, and calculating whether she would reach it before the new threat rode her down <><><><><> [GM] Abandoning any attempt to counter-attack, the rider parries your blow and continues retreating by increments. The other riders, if they charged at you now and you ran for your horse, would probably reach you about the time you got mounted. For the moment, however, they are pausing to assess the situation and watch your fight with their comrade, who is now getting ready to attack again. <><><><><> [Agnes] She backs away slowly, towards her own horse, but her opponent. She aims a slash at the rider's horse as soon as he comes close enough, hoping to panic it into throwing him, but being ready to aim at the rider himself if he comes really close. <><><><><> [GM] As the horse moves towards you, you get a clear shot at its neck before it comes close enough for its rider to block your blow. You chop deeply into the horse's neck, and it screams and falls forward, its front legs buckling. The rider stays on, barely, but he's badly off- balance. <><><><><> [Agnes] She swings at the rider, making the most of his difficulties as he tries to remain upright on the distressed horse. <><><><><> [GM] He tries to raise his sword to defend himself, but that just gives you a clear opportunity to hack through his arm, which you do. He screams as his sword goes tumbling to the ground, with his hand and forearm still attached. Blood spurts in your face, and then he rolls to the opposite side of his horse and hits the ground. The other three men, at this point, swear and begin coming towards you, two fanning out to flank you on both sides while one comes directly towards you. "Who is this bitch-warrior?" one demands. "You're a dead woman," says the man coming straight at you. "Dead fast if you're lucky, but not if I have my way." <><><><><> [Agnes] She continues to back away, to ensure the just-fallen man does not interfere. When he is quite close, she steps towards the one coming straight at her. She intends to use him as a block for at least one of the flanking riders. She tries to take out his horse before he can parry her, and hjopefully chop him whislt he tries to stay monunted. Then she'lll have to worry about the flanking man. <><><><><> [GM] The fallen man is screaming and trying to close his left hand over the bloody end of his severed arm. The rider coming towards you has to maneuver around the wounded horse, which is trying to rise to its feet, then fails, and rolls over.....onto its maimed rider. His screams abruptly terminate in a breathless groan. The man coming at you is a little more careful about trying to keep his horse from walking into a sword-swing, but fails to turn its head aside fast enough. Your sword comes down on its head, cracking its skull. Gushing blood from the head wound, the horse rears and begins panicking. The rider stays mounted, but certainly can't attack you just yet. You step forward and cut him across the body, though not as deeply as you hoped. He grimaces and tries to swing at you wildy, failing as his horse begins trying to bolt away from you. Your next swing catches his foot and whacks it clean off, so quickly it takes you both a moment to realize what happened. But you can hear the other rider closing on your rear. <><><><><> [Agnes] She steps away from him, turning as she does so to be ready to parry the bow she is expecting to come at her from behind. She hopes that the one she has just addressed isn't in a state to hit her untill she can step further away. <><><><><> [GM] "Damn it, can't anyone hit this woman?" yells the one coming at your back. You turn just in time to deflect his sword with yours before he can chop through your neck, and retaliate with a weak swing that he blocks. This seems to be your day for lopping off feet. You hack through his ankle with your next blow. His foot doesn't come all the way off, but it hangs by one shred of flesh. He yells "EEYAAAAGH!" and grits his teeth and tries to hit you again, but misses. "Get her!" he yells at the other footless man, who's pulling away, grabbing at his ankle, and staring at his boot, with his foot in it, which is lying on the ground. <><><><><> [Agnes] She aims a couple more blows at the man who seems determined to stay in the fight, before glancing about to determine where the other rider is. <><><><><> [GM] Now distracted by the pain in his foot, he's not able to effectively parry your blow at his leg, which cuts deep and leaves more blood running down the horse's side, or at his arm. He groans, now bleeding from three wounds, and begins backing his horse away. "Circle her!" he snarls. "Don't close in! Keep her from getting to her horse!" The one unwounded rider has moved to interpose his horse between you and your mount, which is tethered upslope from you. The rider who lost his foot lists a bit in his saddle, but is now glaring at you hatefully. The three mounted men now form a sort of triangle around you. Far back in the woods, you can hear more of their fellows yelling as they ride to catch up. <><><><><> [Agnes] She moves towards her horse. they can either keep out of her way, or have their horses swung at. She pays particular attention to the horse with the headwound, to see how keen it is to stay the course. <><><><><> [GM] The man on the wounded horse has gotten it under control, somewhat....but it's looking very shaky, and certainly won't last much longer. The unwounded man prepares to intercept you, but the man who's been giving orders says "Get her horse! Cut it free and shoe it away, we can catch it later!" He glares at you. "Want to give up, before the rest of us get here?" "If you surrender now, we'll leave you alive after we're done with you." <><><><><> [Agnes] She makes a determined effort to head towards her horse, switching to attack anyone that tries to interpose themselves between her and it <><><><><> [GM] The man who was moving towards your horse takes a swing at the tether around the tree, with his sword. Then he shifts around in his saddle when you come at him, trying to parry your attack. He fails. You knock him right off his horse with a roundhouse swing that nearly cleaves him to the spine. He hits the ground, rolls, and moans. Hooves beat on the ground as the "leader" charges you with a fierce yell, forcing you to turn and face him before he rides you down. His sword comes crashing down on your shield, hard enough to splinter the wood. You catch his leg as he goes past, giving it another bloody wound. He slows, some yards past, and wheels his horse around slowly, looking a bit pale, but still angry and determined. The third man is watching you cautiously, but not moving to attack. <><><><><> [Agnes] She starts to untether her horse, as she watches the leader. "Is your pride really worth dying for? Why not tend your wounded instead? Are you really so much better than them that you expect to beat me?" <><><><><> [GM] He glares at you, full of fury. "Maybe not." He tucks his sword under his unwounded arm, and with his other arm, which is hurt but not crippled, he draws a large knife, and throws it at your horse. The blade sticks in its side with a solid "Whunk!" Your horse screams and almost knocks you over as it jerks away from the impact, then begins yanking at the tether, snapping the cords as the other man cut several of them with his sword already. "But you're still a mere mortal, and we'll run you down." <><><><><> [Agnes] She rushes him, aiming to take him out with a flurry of blows. "I will not let you live to regret that!" <><><><><> [GM] He begins retreating, almost drops his sword as he hastens to get it back in his hand to defend with. Desperation gives him speed, and he manages to parry your blows, backing away further and further, finally kicking his horse and moving forward, out of reach, and continuing some distance into the trees, yelling loudly for his approaching comrades. <><><><><> [Agnes] She stops, turns, and runs back the way she had come. Slowing to a walk, she approaches the horse of the man who had avoided the fight long enough to be almost cut in half. It is skittery, but allows her to reach it and take its reins. She quickly leads it over to her own horse, where she pulls the knife out of its flank. She takes hold of its rein, and finishes untying it from the tree. Mounting up on the fresh horse, she tries to make good her escape, leaving carnage behind. As she rides, she looks at her shield critically, to see what it will survive. As the trees start to thin out, she makes sure that she has ready access to her shot and sling. <><><><><> [GM] Your shield has taken a beating, but will still serve. At least for one more fight. The knife sank all the way to the hilt in your poor horse's side. It follows you, making pained snuffling sounds as it goes. It's not a mortal wound, but it's bad enough to slow the animal down considerably. The men are not following you, not right away. You can see, back in the trees, that last man dismounting, and staggering to one of his fallen comrades. Whether the next group coming will stop and care for their wounded, or keep following you in pursuit, you don't know, but if it's the latter, you will probably have to abandon your wounded horse. <><><><><> [Agnes] She glances back behind and realises that pursuit will not be immediate. Down the slope she goes, trying to put a little distance between her and them, before turning off at right angles for a few hundred yards to stop and sort things out. She dismounts and ties both horses to a tree, and then proceeds to transfer her valuables from her old horse to her new, whilst talking soothingly to both. If she has to cut and run, she wants to leave as little behind as possible, but conversely, she doesn't want to abandon a second horse. She stops and listens now and then for signs of renewed pursuit. When she does move, she heads off at an angle to her old course - there was no point in making it easy for them - and plans to keep moving all day, or at least until her horse starts to be in too much suffering. <><><><><> [GM] For the rest of the afternoon, you do not detect any signs of pursuit. Eventually you reach the edge of the woods, and hit the road that you left to avoid the brigands. Taking the road, you should probably reach the next town by nightfall. <><><><><> [Agnes] Seeing the road, worry grips her. She moves back from it, and decides to find somewhere to lay up for the rest of the day to let her own horse rest. She decides that in the morning, she will take her time and ride a parallel course to the road, but well away from it, and avoid the next town completely. There were still quite a few of the brigands fit when she left them, and she doesn't doubt that they will be out for revenge. They may even have associates in the town that tell them of their likely targets. They may even live in the town. She shakes her head to herself. It was just too risky. From her fire-less camp, she looked at the terrain, and wondered if setting off at right angles to her previous course, into the next valley, was a viable course of action. <><><><><> [GM] Just before sundown, you hear men riding through the woods....coming from the direction you did. It's hard to tell, by the sound, whether they are coming directly at you or not. They might be going to pass a quarter mile on either side. Or they might have a competent tracker among them and be right on your trail. <><><><><> [Agnes] She waits and listens. If they keep going, she can relax. If there are sounds of a bit of disorganisation, she will know they have turned where she turned off the direct route to the road, to seek out her current slightly secluded spot. Quietly, she mounts up and takes both reins in her hands. She knows that if she has to ride, she'll have to leave her own horse, but she'll let it go free. Then she'll have to ride through the night to try and shake them, to and through the town on the road if necessary. <><><><><> [GM] They come hurrying through the woods, a couple hundred yards to your north. You've come far enough that even though they've fanned out, the nearest one is still missing you by a wide margin. You can see him, through the trees. But he doesn't see you. They continue on to the road, and take it heading west. <><><><><> [Agnes] Agnes sits silently watching them, as they reach the road and turn westwards. She waits until she can hear their hoofbeats no more, and then moves off. She sets her horse off at a slow walk, leading her other one, making her way down towards the road. She turns East, and rides for an hour before turning off and heading up the other side of the valley. She makes her way up through the trees, in the gathering gloom to a point just before it starts to be difficult to move along the valley. She seeks out a stream and stops. After tending her wounded horse, she makes a fire-less camp for the night. She plans to travel along the valley this far off the road for a good few days, trusting that the valley won't narrow too much. If it does, she decides, maybe she will have to go over the top and into the next one. <><><><><> [GM] You seem to have successfully avoided the brigands. You go far past the town that was your original destination, lucking upon an abandoned mill when a sudden thunderstorm breaks overhead. You can't do much for your wounded horse other than clean the wound now and then (certainly not an enjoyable task.) It seems to be coping, but you won't be able to ride it hard until it recovers completely. As you proceed into Aquitaine, you find yourself compelled to turn aside and leave the road twice more, once when you spot another large group of armed men on the move, and once when you're about to enter a forest and the peasants at the village you pass through warn you that bandits prowl the woods and will certainly try to jump a woman traveling alone. Eventually you get back on the road to Bordeaux, and only have to cope with the frequent ruffains lounging about at crossroads, who can usually be dissuaded by brandishing your sword. They're looking for easy prey, and you don't look like it. But that won't dissuade everybody. You feel relieved to make it to Bordeaux (and even here, a solitary woman has to be careful, not to walk down the wrong street, not to enter the wrong inn, not to cross the wrong man.) You survived numerous hostile encounters as a traveling tinker, and some of them were close calls, but the odds of making it across Carolinga unmolested have clearly gotten worse, since Charlemagne's death. <><><><><> [Agnes] It has been hard work, just reaching Bordeaux. She has had long enough thinking over it, as she has mad her journey here. The land is not as safe as it once was, and there is no way she can go back to tinkering. There doesn't seem to be much point in going back to Rome either. She can stay in Bordeaux for a while, but from what she has heard, the vikings have probably destroyed the coastal trade. She could go to Wessex, but that would mean an overland trip almost as long as the one so far, or a trip by boat, through viking infested waters. She is exhausted by the constant vigilance that she has to exert, just to avoid trouble, and tells herself that she should have spent more time considering the convent's offer to become a nun. With mixed feelings, she sells the bolt of fine cloth she had brought with her from Rome, and had intended to take to Wessex. Re-provisioned, and with a heavy heart, she heads south. She knows that she will never again see Æethelbert again, and she sheds more than a few tears as she heads towards the Emirate of Cordoba.