“It’s all very well and good.” Goswick sharply disapproved, “But how do we explain the lack of wounds? None of us but you escaped without so much as a cut. And it’s known that Abu-Bakr does not let anyone live after anything he’s won. Command receives word of the battle but no news of survivors released, ransomed, or otherwise. Everyone is slain on sight. If we were to walk into Pollnivneach, claiming we’re survivors of his latest battle there will be suspicions.”
“Well where else do we have to go.” replied Millard, “We are dooming ourselves to death out here the same way we may run the chance of being executed when we return.”
“That,” said Goswick, “is the nature of exile. It is slow death and displacement.”
“Well I think we should go still.” said Millard, “We’re not exiled exactly, and I say we act diplomatically on it. Who amongst us agrees we go to Pollnivneach?”
Chandler silently raised his hand with a minute of hesitation. DeLoren just said, “Yes” under his breath.
Millard nodded in victory and looked his superior in the eye and said, “You’re opinion is drowned in that of the opposition, you are also out bladed. People can be convinced. But the nature of the wilderness can not.*
*Saradomin damn democracy.” Goswick muttered in defeat.
The group then set course to the east. To the Elid, with hope in their eyes.. To the security of a town. The comforts of home-life. And the good of being put back onto the right path.
07-Jul-2009 03:33:23
- Last edited on
29-Dec-2010 02:31:15
by
Smok Taunter