A Strange Occurance
A bald head creeped from under the cover of a bush that lay ahead. It swiveled slightly with the wind and as the bald man got closer to get a better look he was almost in awe of what had been occurring. A gathering of strange looking people carrying weird knives had circled around three pits, two of which were already on fire. They seemed to be dancing and making slight hum noises as they each circled round and round the fire. A single man stood out amongst them all, more elderly than all the rest and perhaps the only one Shimoje was able to accurately follow distinctively with his eyes. The rest made it hard to count, but he swore there were at least five of them in total.
A breeze of wind finally pushed the smell towards Shimoje and it stunk rather morbidly. Worse than the body stench of a clad knight who had not washed his armor in a while. “Do you see that, Ser Xervos?” Shimoje asked quietly. “There is something or someone attached to a stake on that pit! The rest is on fire!” Something had to be done, and perhaps done quickly. Shimoje sat down on the ground and started to think productively as he stroked his eyebrows. A chime had passed by, and his patience finally left him with a few thoughts. “We are clearly outnumbered guys. I don’t think I can fight one of these guys head on, you two might, but I don’t want to chance you two getting hurt cause of me.” Shimoje thought again and then it hit him. He almost forgot about the trap that he disarmed, and if he forgot about it, maybe these seemingly drunken bandits would too. Whatever they were doing, they surely weren’t in their right mind. It looked like they were burning something alive, because a faint moan was finally heard from the distance of where the stake was sticking out above a pit of various logs and dry leaves.
“I am not fast enough. I will retreat back to the trap I disarmed and attempt to use it.” Shimoje looked at Ferrin. “You might have to be brave here Ferrin. I will hide near the trap and you will lead them to me. Do you trust me?” Shimoje explained the plans to possibly distract the group of bandits from doing whatever they were doing and to potentially save the victim tied to the stake. Using resources was one of Shimoje’s best characteristics. He was raised in a way which if he didn’t utilize his wits he probably wouldn’t have survived on his own. “While Ferrin tries to distract the group, Ser Xervos, you should go see who or what is tied to that stake that is about to be burned. Time is running out!” He turned to Ferrin “Oh, when you get to me Ferrin, make sure you fall to the ground as soon as possible. I don’t want to kill my first friend here.”
With the plan finally set into place, what seemed like bells was actually a result of 10 or so chimes. Shimoje slowly got up – recognizing he was still a bit sore from his healed injury, least he thought it was fully healed, but clearly it still caused the occasional sharp pain. He worked himself into place and his hands steadily leaned against the trunk which had the trap on it. All he would need to do is remove the piece of wood which had been locked in place.
Shimoje was there in the woods alone. He remembered about how the woods were a dangerous place, but he didn’t care. For some reason Shimoje’s only thought was putting a stop to whatever had been going on. He hadn’t known Ferrin and Ser Xervos for long, but Shimoje trusted his guts that they would be able to do the right thing, but he was still scared. There was a lot of factors of error that could occur. Every tick felt like bells to Shimoje as perspiration had started to gather on his brow and drip off of his face into the dirt beneath him.
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The group of bandits danced haphazardly among the 2 fires which had been set. The older looking man had went to the pyre and had grabbed a rather large ember from it and headed towards the other pit that remained unlit. He waved the ember in the air making symbols with it’s embers to the pit soon to be placed under fire’s embrace. The crazed group hooted and hollered a few times and continued their drunken ceremony.
They clearly weren’t in the right frame of mind of normal drunks, and had been doing some rather strange things. One of the five managed to trip and fall from stepping on another of the bandits feet and then started to crawl and jump at the same time like some sort of beast. Another laughed and tried to kick at the one crawling around, but then was more interested in the person or thing tied to the stake and went to caress it, perhaps one last time before it felt the warmth of fire.
NOTE: Story is continued at Let's Hope This Works [2]
Speech Thoughts
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