Blood and Strength - Part 11
!! SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT
SKILL: SNOWRUNNING BASIC CONDITIONS MET!
3/3 CONDITIONS HAVE BEEN ACHIEVED… EVOLUTION COMMENCING
SNOW RUNNING BASIC EVOLVED INTO TUNDRA RUNNING – INTERMEDIATE!
YOUR SNOW RUNNING TECHNIQUE HAS IMPROVED. YOU FIND YOURSELF ABLE TO DO WELL EVEN ON SNOWY TERRAIN THAT YOU HAVE NOT EXPERIENCED BEFORE. SNOW RUNNING PROFICIENCY INCREASED, GENERAL RUNNING PROFICIENCY INCREASED
It was a wealth of information, something that Vol would have liked to spend more time thinking on, if he could, but his body understood it immediately. His pace increased, a far more dramatic shift than had happened when fulfilling the mastery conditions. He felt himself pull away from the guards that had been pursuing him, leaving Usar's voice shouting behind him.
"CUT HIM OFF! ALERT THE WALL GUARDS!" Usar shouted in dismay from behind him. "THE BASTARD IS FAST! GET THE ARCHERS!"
He sunk into the snow, expecting the same softness that he had before, but his foot hit upon a plank of long discarded wood. He almost slipped, but managed to steady himself immediately, so that his pace was hardly affected.
He wondered if he had his snow running skill to thank for that. The evolution had come just in the nick of time.
The longhouses soon ran out, and he was back on the main street. He came skidding out into the open, to the startled cries of several passersby, men and women on their way home from work, sharing light conversation.
A quick glance at Vol with his maddened eyes and his drawn axe was enough to tell them that he meant danger. They started to run, as Vol glanced from left to right, regaining his orientation, and looking for the gate.
This was indeed the main road, he confirmed to himself. He could see the town's half-wood wall rising up in the distance past a curve in the road as it came uphill. He set off again, just in time to hear Usar stomping up by his rear.
The man's breathing was immensely laboured. His chest was heaving up and down from the exertion. Only two guardsmen had managed to keep up with him. This here would be an opportunity, if Vol wished it, to round on the man, and slay him before the rest kept up.
It was more difficult than he would have expected to contain that bloodlust. He was starting to get a taste for it. He was like an angry bear, trampling everything in his wake. But a rational part of his mind managed to take hold, assuring him that there would be no benefit in it. The System had not even delivered a quest for their slaying.
As if he needed further convincing, past the long houses, he saw another group of guardsmen hurrying over towards the commotion. This lot was armed with bows. They'd come fresh from the east wall to chase him.
Vol set off sprinting again. He'd have no chance against an arrow to the back, not once they got into position. He went skidding down the snowy street, trampling through sections that were half slush and half ice from the many people that had trampled through it.
The first arrow went whizzing past him, flying over his shoulder, and embedding itself into the wood of a house in front of him. A man had just been in the midst of opening his door, and he yelped to see the arrow quivering right next to him.
Vol rushed past him, leaving him in his startlement, and doing his best to aim towards the crowd in the distance, to at least put some hesitancy in the guardsmen's boys.
He heard the old man cry out angrily at the guards, once he recovered from his shock. Hopefully, his loud chagrined voice would serve as something of a distraction – the Gods knew that Vol needed it.
When he came to the bend in the road as it ran downhill, he slipped over to the other side, removing himself from the archers' line of sight. A flight of several arrows thudded into the side of the street where he had just been a few moments before.
Now he could see the gate. He could see the guards still standing idle by it, and the archers walking atop the wall, switching this way and that, as they carried their torches, and looked out into the unforgiving night.
No doubt they were on high alert. Reports had been sent that Oliver had attacked another town, a distance away, but that was not a reason for laxness. There was a paranormal quality to Oliver's movements that made him near impossible to track. Applying normal human limits on his armies would only be to invite their demise, just as had happened in Bolrif.
"CLOSE THE GATTTTTTESSSSSSSS!" Usar's loud voice rang out ahead of Vol. Somehow the man had managed to crest the hill after him. He looked thoroughly exhausted, but some sort of diligence for his duty was driving him. Despite the armour that he'd worn, he'd managed to nearly keep pace with Vol.
They heard his cry. It was the shout of a sergeant, even if that was not Usar's rank yet. It demanded that they obey. Whatever shock or questions they might have had were immediately offset by Vol's giant figure charging down the side of the hill. They instantly jumped up when shouted to – but closing the gates would not be such an easy task.
They needed the gate mules hooked up and harnessed. They were already ready, on high alert, just in case Oliver suddenly appeared, but they were yet to be hooked up. With Vol so close already, a mere hundred-metre sprint away, their task was an impossible one.