[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine's arrival at the bandits' camp - one day later

The riders quietly picked their path through the woods on the final leg of their journey from the Weather Hills. The earlier envoy who bore the letter to Soran had returned to the larger encampment at the Weather Hills and it was now a full day later. These two had been travelling since early morning and were glad to see their final destination in sight. Conditions on the trail had not been good; the day had been unseasonably cold for mid Halimath with a heavy fog making it difficult to see and steady rain that had soaked them to the bone.

The slender young man who rode in front was a trained scout who'd made this particular trip many times before and could easily pick out the hidden grove Lothar had chosen as his campsite, which was so cleverly concealed from outside eyes. His companion was built more heavily and gave the appearance of being a soldier. The older man wore a shirt of chain mail underneath a surcoat and on his head was a protective hat also made of mail. A decorative girdle was strapped about his waist with a heavy iron broadsword on one hip and a mace hanging from the other. He gave the appearance of being very comfortable with these weapons.

Even from halfway down the path, Guthwine could hear voices raised in anger. At the edge of the encampment but still within the protective shield of the trees, he raised his hand in warning and cautioned the scout to stop. No one in the camp itself was aware of the two men peering out at them from within the leafy overhang.

Guthwine shook his head and scowled as he surveyed the encampment. Lotar had evidently neglected to set a guard, perhaps because it was not yet twilight. Yet a mistake like that could be perilous if he had been an enemy. Ahead of him, he could hear and see the two men arguing. One was clearly Lothar, the leader of the group, a familar figure whom Guthwine had known for some years. The other was a cocky young lad whom Guthwine did not recognize who talked as fast as he could, defending something he'd done the day before.

"Did I give you permission to go out and round up recruits for this band?" Lothar belowed. "I'm in charge here...not you! When it's time to recruit, I'll let you know! Lotar drew a deep breath, struggling to master his temper, and then continued more evenly, "Rudgar, you'll just have to trust that I know a bit more about this situation than you do."

The boy retorted without hesitation, "Trust? How can I trust you and your pack of thieves?" His eyes swept accusingly over the others who sat huddled in the rain near the fire, then turned back to Lotar. "Did I give you and your thugs permission to steal a smoked chicken from my bag? I go out and find food for everyone, and this is how I'm rewarded! I figured I'd better do what was in my own best interests. Anyways, the more men you have, the more likely it is that we'll succeed. so I don't know why you're complaining!" With that, Rudgar shrugged his shoulders and sat down on a log.

Lotar grimaced, "Boy, believe me! I know nothing about any chicken. But I am responsible for the safety of this group. And the next time you do something like this, you need to talk with me first. Do that one more time and you'll be out on your ear!" At that point, Lotar turned and stalked off down the trail, presumably retreating to the privacy of his own tent.

Guthwine waited a moment for things to settle down and then pushed into the encampment with the scout following just behind him. The older man pushed forward without hesitation and bluntly addressed the group sitting by the fire, "I'm here from the Weather Hills with a dire message for Lotar. There's been a change in plans and I need to speak with him immediately." He looked up expectently to see who would respond and what attitude they would take.

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]