His heart sank when he finally learned what had gotten the soldiers so excited. The steep cliff face to his right began to grow gentler and gentler, until it became an easy mound to scramble just up ahead. The guardsmen were rushing there ahead of him, and Vol cursed, as he hurried himself even further so that he might pass them.
The further he went the less steep the ridge that he'd climbed grew, until eventually, it was running flat along with the path below. A horrible waste of time. A mistake Vol swore he wouldn't make again. He barely managed to pass by the guardsmen again, but they were still close for comfort.
"He's right there! Just tackle him!" One of them shouted, as they were barely five strides behind. But that distance didn't matter when they didn't have anything to hit him with. They could have tried to fling a weapon, but they both had swords at their belts, and lacked the confidence that they could land him.
With their armour, they were losing their stamina far more quickly than he. Even as they gave a burst of speed to finally try to lay a hand on him, they couldn't reach, and that effort became their detriment, as they fell even further behind.
A short distance away, Vol could hear barking. The dogs had made it into the trees, and they were hot on his scent. He struggled onwards, but he was starting to tire as well. He'd underestimated just how much extra strain a wounded arm would put on his running form. It felt like a dead weight. Normally he'd rely on it to lend him momentum, but now it sucked momentum away from him, dragging him out of balance and rhythm. His breathing was nearing a level that he could no longer maintain.
The next time he looked over his shoulder, he saw mounted men coming through the trees, on short and stout sure-footed mules. They cover the distance far more quickly than he, confidently plodding through the snow, following the tracks of a pack of long-eared fluffy hunting hounds as they bounded through the snow after him.
"There he is!" The leader of the mounted men called out. The others gave a cry of excitement, and hurried after him. They too were like the dogs that they followed. They took in the thrill of the hunt.
Another minute or two, and Vol was sure that they would catch him. Running was growing to be the losing option. He looked around at his landscape for something to use – steep cliffs to either side that rose up into mountains, and then straight and thick pine trees aplenty, with the occasional snow-covered boulder.
There wasn't much. There wasn't anything to climb, or really anything to hide behind. The guards had their eyes firmly pinned on him now. The moment he attempted to hide, they'd find him.
He glanced at their numbers. Could he take them? A whole pack of heavy, aggressive hunting dogs, meant for taking on the hardy mountain game, and fending off wolves. They would be problems in and of themselves. The moment they neared him – and they were getting ever closer – they'd use that powerful physicality to drag him to the ground where the others could deal with him.
And during it all, the System maintained its silence. Aside from the issue of the quest to escape, it gave him no other options.
Axe-throwing… The sky had given him that skill, allowing him to turn it into something that better approached a consistent weapon, something that he could rely on to land. He could turn around and take out the nearest mule rider, then use the confusion to mount up and then escape.
A flawed plan, Vol realized immediately. He'd never learned how to ride. Besides, the dogs would be on top of him long before he managed to mount up. He'd never stand a chance.
The valley narrowed ahead of them, as it rose towards a hill. He couldn't see what lay beyond that hill, but he hoped, at least, the terrain would offer him more chances than it did here. Another minute, and that lead hunting dog would be on him, that black beast with its muscles rippling and its tongue lolling as it ran.
If the crest of the hill offered him nothing better, then he would have to use the crest itself. The narrowness of it, at least, would serve to benefit him, somewhat. He might be able to find a boulder to cover his flank, whilst he dealt with what was in front of him. That could work… Or at least, it was the best option he had.
But there were just so many men. Even if he took out all ten mule riders, there would be more than twenty-foot soldiers following along behind them, and then there were all those dogs to deal with. It was night on impossible.
He gritted his teeth. Still, he had to try. Even one-armed, even outnumbered, it was damn worth trying. That was the Yarmdon way. These law-abiding men, slinking under orders from their Earl, doing their duty just for a handful of coppers. His spirit couldn't be any weaker than theirs, could it?
The pain was growing, though. It was beyond his arm now, and flitting down the entire left side of his body, making it numb and useless. His stamina was fading and fading. The day had been too busy. He'd covered so much ground.
Finally, the System spoke.
!! SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT!
CONGRATULATIONS!
QUEST COMPLETE:
ESCAPE THE NOOKHAVEN GUARDSMEN
REWARD:
LEVEL SYSTEM – BASIC
He startled at the sound. This was the first time the System had congratulated him for completing a quest. Besides 'Escape the Nookhaven Guardsmen'? He glanced over his shoulder. They were still right there – exactly where he had last seen them. But now, when he glanced, he could see information next to their heads.