CHP 1: Den of Thieves, Part One
Quiet. If she was quiet, no one would find her. Crouching down, her back pressed uncomfortably against the rock, trying to make her body as small as possible and sink into the shadow the rock made. Oh, this was just bloody foolish, wasn't it? Oh yes, Ceodriel, let's just go for a walk on the Old Forest Road that leads straight into the mountains... and was covered with outlaws and thieves. And she decided to take an afternoon stroll down it. How smart was she? Honestly. But, suddenly, the voices stopped and her hand found it's way to her mouth, trying to stifle the sounds of her breathing. Even with her bow and the sword and dagger at her side, she wasn't proficient enough to take down the twenty odd mean just feet away from her hiding place. Letting her golden eyes close, she prayed to whatever powers were watching over the lands now to please get her out of this.
"Well, well, well... what do we have here? A little mouse hiding from the big, bad fox?"
Shit. Her eyes snapped open at the same moment a huge breath of decaying food hit her face. Well, that was disgusting. Ceo wasn't given time to retch or inform him he should chew some mint leaves because two rough hands grabbed either of her arms and pulled her out of her hiding place. Suddenly, she was faced with more then just twenty thieves and robbers... there had to be at least fifty. Oh, she was dead for sure. Someone pressed a blade to her neck while yanking her head back by her hair. Only years of discipline training from her father kept her from crying out. As if she would give them the pleasure.
"What are you doing here, little mouse?" The ruffian who found her snarled at her. He really did look like an animal, like a slimy weasel who had just dug it's way out of the rotting garbage pit for a gasp of fresh air. Unfortunately for the world, that fresh air never reached his mouth.
"I was walking," she replied, mentally pleased with herself at the snarkiness in her voice. Her pride wouldn't let her back down, even when she knew she was going to lose.
"No, no, noo. That's not the answer we like to hear, now is it, boys?" He turned to the other thieves and they roared their support of their leader's motion. "We likes the truth that we do. So, spill the beans or I'll gut you here and now... your choice, wench." He literally spat the last word out. As in, a huge glob of saliva hit her cheek. A shiver of repulsion slithered down her spine and she visibly recoiled. His laughter was her only answer.
"I was walking, you ingrates. I heard you idiots bustling about and you were scaring away the game, so I hid until you went away so I could kill a boar and bring it home for supper... does that satisfy your bumbling bafoonish needs for an explanation?"
"... What did you just call me?"
Ceodriel opened her mouth to reply in a similar sarcastic manner but this lovely voice interrupted her, "I believe the lady was just minding her own business... why don't you let her go?"
If she could've groaned and hit her forehead with her hand, she would have. Of all the people to come "save the day", it had to be him. He never really succeeded at getting people out of trouble, no matter how hard he tried. In fact, the man usually made it worse. So, the fact that Alarin Tyrin showed up right when Ceodriel needed a miracle to survive? It didn't bode well for her. Not at all. "... Great. Of all the heroes, the Powers send me you."
"Nice to see you, too, honey bunches." He blew her a kiss and held up his hands. "So, gents, what'll it be? Let the lass go... or deal with me?" Alarin smirked, dark eyes watching them all.
Great. She was dead, and she was going to be buried with Alarin Tiryn, the Buffoon of Bree.