Big City Darkened Nights
#7 - alone?

Before the sun rises birds begin chirping. Still thinking at home in bed, merely dreaming of adventure, Carr tries to pull a nonexistent blanket over.

The flap of skin, on the left arm, moves sending a shock wave of pain to his brain. Immediately he sits up letting reality set in. Recalling being tripped, seeing the cleric was taken out and two others just collapsed.

The clearing itself seems bigger; the trees aren’t how he recalls. Surveying the area, he sees the slain Orc laying where remembered.

Glittering gems catch Carr’s attention, along with a pile between two horses. Realizing a cut open saddlebag is the source of the treasure pile he observes the other horses still carrying their loads. Easing a minor concern, he confirms Bolt is one of horses and despite all being hurt they are still there.

Wondering where the other males are Carr spots only their clothing, resting where they did. Except the Hobgoblin, Carr stands looking for the little man, noticing treasure scattered about. Basic instincts beg him to pick up the many sparkling items. He just doesn’t know where to start.

Looking at where the Hobgoblin lay, Carr observes dragging marks in the soil leading into the woods.

Picking up the long-sword his throbbing arm wound hinders any progress. Wanting to tend to the wound tries to locate his pack or a wrap.

Passing where the fire was Carr glimpses something odd. Taking a couple steps back for a better look he realizes a mound of fused coins, gems and jewelry has replaced the fire.

Fascinated by it he reaches a hand out to touch it. Sensing the heat coming off it he pulls back the hand. Studying the mound, it’s twice the size of his head. He guesses its weight to be about six stones.

Arm pain turns his attention back to a more required need. Sighting the Hobgoblin’s drag marks he can see they lead only as far as the next tree. There the Hobgoblin’s short leathers are laid out on the ground.

Checking the little man’s armor, Carr finds nothing that indicates a struggle. No blood or other footprints detected Carr does spot his backpack.

Turning around to the campsite he notices that most of their footprints have been obscured. Bewildered Carr isn’t sure what to think. Accept get on a horse and get out of there. He sighs in sympathy for the horse’s observing they have many cuts and his dagger stuck in one.

Taking some time to fully assess the situation Carr tends to wounds. Starting with his bleeding and throbbing arm.

With the wrap from the pack Carr grimaces slapping the skin back in place. Struggling to wrap it, he comes close to cracking teeth.

When wrapped well enough Carr shakes the right arm until the throbbing subsides.

Tending to the animals Carr knows to stand to the side of the horse stuck with his dagger. Quickly pulling the blade out and turning Carr avoids being kicked. The horse jumps about while he tries to calm it.

Checking the other horses he surmises, “That mist or cloud must have done something with those other guys.”

Finding and picking out the occasional gem from the animals he ponders. Why’s this stuff, all over? Why’s the treasure still here? Why am I here?

Inspecting the penultimate horse, he feels watched. A few birds carrying on normally comfort the rogue. I’m still here, and so is the Orc I killed, and the horses. And the treasure is all mine.

Making sure Bolt’s hooves are still good to ride Carr spies a golden glint. Letting Bolt be, Carr stands to focus on a gold chain swinging, out of arms reach, in a tree. Imbedded by its long-pointed crystal pendant. Scanning other trees various objects can be seen stuck in the bark.

Checking the horses’ saddlebags Bolt’s are like three of the others. Each contains two leather sacks and two strange cloth bags.

The horse with the cut saddlebag has only one strange cloth bag. Pulling on its Carr notes it’s not as round as the leather sacks and weighs maybe a stone.

Wondering what’s in it he pulls it out setting it on the ground beside the pile of spilt loot.

Opening the bag, he sees coins and stuff but it looks far away. Looking at the bag the contents seem to be below ground, a couple hands deep.

Afraid to put his hand inside Carr dumps it out instead. Creating a large pile of expensive gold platters, cups, small sculptures, wands and crowns. He can’t believe the things that fall out some weigh as much as the bag did with the stuff in it.

“Thank-you!” Carr yells out raising the bag to the heavens, “A bottomless bag. Elija was right and not only do I get one, I have nine.”

Conflicted with a few thoughts Carr wants to empty out the other bags to see what’s in them. His sensible side has been telling him to get out of the forest.

Deciding to move on more swiftly he tosses the prior and previously spilt treasure into the magic bag. In doing so he glances at the dead Orc causing another debate and dream. Search the male and take their gear or be content with the loot. Which could easily buy him a stronghold of some sort.

Possibly having to run he surveys the horses and what’s being taken. Bolt being the best choice to ride Carr takes out the two leather sacks from Bolt’s saddle bags and puts in the magic one he filled and a fourth.

Feeling bad for the wounded horse Carr lightens his load by switching two leather bags for two of the magical.

Unfortunately, two horses are heavily burdened, Carr makes them last in order tying reins to saddles of the next horse forming a crude chain.

Easing him some notes by the sun’s position noon is a couple hours away. Chewing on a piece of dried meat Carr studies the Orc. The excellent quality of the male’s armor and weapons make him appear worthy of a search. Even the remaining armor and weapons are nicely crafted.

Figuring a new stronghold will need to be manned and equipped, he decides to takes the armor and weapons left behind. Using belts to tie up the weapons and straps to bind the armors together.

Carr lashes the weapons and armor to the not so burdened horse. Finishing securing a buckle he stares longingly at the hot blob of loot. As heat vapors can still be seen he reluctantly leaves it, “Let someone else figure it out. They can claim it. Along with the scattered stuff, well most of it.”

With it now nearing noon Carr wants to get out of the forest before nightfall. If whatever made the males disappear, returns, he doesn’t want to be there. Atop Bolt’s saddle Carr leads the line of packed horses back up the path. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Navigating the trail back he would like to enjoy more but feels continually watched. Newly found wealth does cause his mind to wander onto ways to spend it. Amused by such ideas Carr smiles to the heavens, “Thank you Chislev for this find, only your divine hand could have spared me and this treasure.”

“Hah,” a windish sound emanates from the woods

Sending a cold chill running down Carr’s spine. He vigilantly scans the area, unsure of what was actually heard. Observing the horses are calm eases his concerns of imminent beastly danger.

Passing the fallen tree where he was centipede bit, knows they’ll be out of the woods soon. Content they’ll make it out before nightfall he grins spying the rolling grasslands beyond the trees.

Exiting the twisted forest Carr breathes a sigh of relief. Feeling comfortable he decides to ride northeast to the swamp. Cutting across the land instead of following the marked path.

Carr contemplates on how to get the treasure out of Halford’s territory. Tie up the horses somewhere outside the city. Retrieve the skiff. Hopefully it can carry everything to the other side. Take some back to the farm. Retrieve the horses back home to pick up the rest and take it all to the well.

Crossing over a hill in the grassland Carr’s imagination obscures life around. I return the horses, go back to the skiff and be back in the city to check on my armor. I’m certain Elija will say I was there the whole time. If questioned. It’s perfect. Only jobs I ever need take again will be righteous or adventurous.

Up one more hill Bolt and Carr spot a pack of horsemen crest the next hill. Complete with Halford’s banners flapping in the breeze. Concerned Carr gulps, “horses are tired and weighed down. We’re out in the open with little chance of escape.” He turns to unhook the four horses and tear off.

The men call out. “Hold in the name of King Halford!” Before all the words even reach Carr, they are spreading out at increasing speed to box him in.

Knowing Halford is the fairest of all Kings Carr hopes they’ll buy the story he found it and was returning it for reward. Or the truth and let him live.

Once again Carr looks to the heavens, “Oh Chislev, please let the truth set me free.” Not wanting to be cut down just for running Carr sighs and stops the horses. Waiting for fate to decide the outcome.

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