Bertram Cromwell
04-08-2010, 04:01 PM
Greagoir stood a few yards in front of him, hidden in the tall grass as his dark eyes scanned the area that was still visible in the darkness. For days they had searched the area by the light of the sun with no luck. And all evidence so far suggested that the animal in question was travelling at night. Bertram's solution to the problem of the nocturnal beast was to hunt when they'd be least expected: no moon, no light. He had commanded that his men wear protective covering over their eyes during the day, to sit still in pitch darkness so that when the sun set completely, their vision would be adjusted. Now they sat in wait, the four of them watching for their prey.
The animal was a clumsy one at best, stupid and careless. He had left evidence of his presence in the barn in the form of foot prints. The pattern suggested that an injury had been sustained on the right leg, causing him to limp and favor the other. He was travelling light, most likely to help him move quickly and had dropped supplies so as not to impede his movements. And each of the supplies he dropped was claimed by Bertram and his men - Proof that they were on the right trail. Unfortunately, he was smart in his hiding places and when he moved. He had hoped to have caught him before Lord Theodoric Severne left, but it hadn't quite worked out that way. It was no matter. Bertram was determined to end this tonight and turn the beast in to Kaedon Severne.
Carridon was quite a distance away, his bow drawn and an arrow aimed at a particular spot not too far away. Laertes was kneeling behind him, none of his weapons drawn, but knowing him as Bertram did, that could change in about a second. "So, he's here?" Laertes asked. "Bastard's hiding in the grass like an animal?"
"Lower your voice," Bertram whispered, his sharp eyes honing in on the dark entrance. "And yes... it would appear given the trail he's led us on that he is in there."
"Where do you think he's trying to escape to?"
That was a good question. To the west was Nemea, Pida, and Nystra but it was unlikely that he was going to any of those cities. By now, it would have made sense to assume that the Severne's had sent word to their bannermen to inform them of what had happened. Though, the advantage the perpetrator had was that nobody knew what he looked like, but from what Bertram could tell, he hadn't gotten away from his bout with Fallon without some signs of a struggle etched into his person. "It would appear he's hoping to lose us in the forest. That is why we must catch him now before he makes this more difficult than it has to be."
Bertram motioned to Greagoir that they were going to move in. Laertes was to follow ten paces behind while Carridon was to stay put and keep his arrow trained. Unsheathing his dagger, he kept low to stay hidden by the grass and as quietly as possible, he moved in for the catch. Unfortunatley, there you could only be so quiet in a setting such as this one, and if one were already afraid of being caught, they would be alerted at just about any sound. Even so, getting up and running like this mand had done was probably not smart considering the skills that the four men possessed. Bertram took off after him just as Carridon let his arrow fly. Such a good archer he was that the arrow struck its intended target, hitting the back of his right leg and bringing him to the ground. Bertram caught up to him easily within seconds, rope already out as he began to bind the man's hands. He took in the appearance of the man - not quite as big as he'd been expecting, but much bigger than Fallon at the very least. And he had marks on his arms and face. Old cuts, but still present which seemed to have been caused by fingernails. Yes, this was the man that they'd been looking for.
"Oh thank the Gods!" the man cried. That certainly was surprising.
"What is he blabbering about?" Greagoir asked, coming up to take a good look at him for himself.
"You're a Cromwell. I thought I was done for sure!"
A silence passed between them. Bertram had no idea what the man was talking about. "You would do well to save your words for Lord Severne, for I have no interest in what you have to say."
"Wait... you mean you're not...?"
"I said shut it," Bertram said, hoisting the man to his feet. "Our horses gentlemen. He will ride with me. Would hate to lose our catch tonight."
The animal was a clumsy one at best, stupid and careless. He had left evidence of his presence in the barn in the form of foot prints. The pattern suggested that an injury had been sustained on the right leg, causing him to limp and favor the other. He was travelling light, most likely to help him move quickly and had dropped supplies so as not to impede his movements. And each of the supplies he dropped was claimed by Bertram and his men - Proof that they were on the right trail. Unfortunately, he was smart in his hiding places and when he moved. He had hoped to have caught him before Lord Theodoric Severne left, but it hadn't quite worked out that way. It was no matter. Bertram was determined to end this tonight and turn the beast in to Kaedon Severne.
Carridon was quite a distance away, his bow drawn and an arrow aimed at a particular spot not too far away. Laertes was kneeling behind him, none of his weapons drawn, but knowing him as Bertram did, that could change in about a second. "So, he's here?" Laertes asked. "Bastard's hiding in the grass like an animal?"
"Lower your voice," Bertram whispered, his sharp eyes honing in on the dark entrance. "And yes... it would appear given the trail he's led us on that he is in there."
"Where do you think he's trying to escape to?"
That was a good question. To the west was Nemea, Pida, and Nystra but it was unlikely that he was going to any of those cities. By now, it would have made sense to assume that the Severne's had sent word to their bannermen to inform them of what had happened. Though, the advantage the perpetrator had was that nobody knew what he looked like, but from what Bertram could tell, he hadn't gotten away from his bout with Fallon without some signs of a struggle etched into his person. "It would appear he's hoping to lose us in the forest. That is why we must catch him now before he makes this more difficult than it has to be."
Bertram motioned to Greagoir that they were going to move in. Laertes was to follow ten paces behind while Carridon was to stay put and keep his arrow trained. Unsheathing his dagger, he kept low to stay hidden by the grass and as quietly as possible, he moved in for the catch. Unfortunatley, there you could only be so quiet in a setting such as this one, and if one were already afraid of being caught, they would be alerted at just about any sound. Even so, getting up and running like this mand had done was probably not smart considering the skills that the four men possessed. Bertram took off after him just as Carridon let his arrow fly. Such a good archer he was that the arrow struck its intended target, hitting the back of his right leg and bringing him to the ground. Bertram caught up to him easily within seconds, rope already out as he began to bind the man's hands. He took in the appearance of the man - not quite as big as he'd been expecting, but much bigger than Fallon at the very least. And he had marks on his arms and face. Old cuts, but still present which seemed to have been caused by fingernails. Yes, this was the man that they'd been looking for.
"Oh thank the Gods!" the man cried. That certainly was surprising.
"What is he blabbering about?" Greagoir asked, coming up to take a good look at him for himself.
"You're a Cromwell. I thought I was done for sure!"
A silence passed between them. Bertram had no idea what the man was talking about. "You would do well to save your words for Lord Severne, for I have no interest in what you have to say."
"Wait... you mean you're not...?"
"I said shut it," Bertram said, hoisting the man to his feet. "Our horses gentlemen. He will ride with me. Would hate to lose our catch tonight."