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xp_logsEven though she knew it wasn't real, the scenes she was witnessing were beginning to make Adrienne feel quite ill, with both shock and disgust. Everything she'd been seeing was just so wrong! She tried even more desperately than she had been to break out of the reading, but once again the landscape shifted with a lurch and her efforts to return to the real world proved futile.
For a moment she thought she'd gone blind, as darkness met her vision. It took several moments before she could make out a tree-filled, swampy area, seemingly endless in her vision, a cloudy sky, and a shape moving on horseback in the moonless night. When her eyes adjusted further to the gloom she realized she was looking at Julian, in the uniform of a British Redcoat, complete with powder wig. The sight of it made her want to laugh.
Her vision moved with the rider, following the seal he must have in his saddlebag or in a pocket or bag on his person, but when she got far enough ahead to examine the surrounding landscape, Adrienne noticed shapes, barely moving, in the swamplands. Animals? No, they were definitely human. They were spaced out in pairs, seemingly waiting for something.
While she pondered what was going on, the rider slowed the horse to a trot, and Adrienne noticed it was frothing, as if exhausted. A noise from the trees had it spooking, rearing up.
The soldier's horse bucked wildly once, sending her rider to the ground with a thud before it ran away. His powdered wig now a few feet away, the British loyalist quickly pulled himself up from the mud and drew a flintlock pistol from his belt. Scanning the horizon, the soldier looked for anything that was amiss before he even thought of going after his horse- she didn't usually spook easily.
The horse's run ended with an abrupt crack as a Minie ball pierced it's chest and followed through to it's heart. By the time the smoke cleared from the shot, no one could be seen in the area. The leaves didn't rustle and twigs didn't break, unless someone wanted them to.
In the distance, another horse reared its head up at the sound of the crack. But quickly its rider, wearing Bobby Drake's face, patted it on the neck to calm it down. "Easy Ice Chute...." The horse hit the ground and its rider began to have the horse pace slowly forward, trying to get a report on the damage.
"Who's there?!" The soldier shouted, leveling his pistol toward the sound of his horse. "In the name of the King I order you to identify yourself at once!"
Leaves rustled in one place, then another, then another; the succession was so quick it couldn't possibly be just one person in all those places at once. No advance was made yet, other than the attack on the British soldier's horse. All that was announced was that someone was present and they didn't want that soldier to leave just yet.
In the distance the man on the horse slowly dismounted and crouched as he moved forward, trying to keep stealthy in the process. He dropped his voice to try and keep it from being heard by the British soldier, but by the sound of it, he was already hearing things that weren't there, and the blast wouldn't help him hearing the low voice of the blond talking to an unseen accomplice. "What do we have?"
"One Red Coat. Looking for his unit now. I can't imagine he's alone." The blond- Sam Guthrie again, Adrienne noticed ruefully- slipped in quietly alongside the other American. "I'm going to start him running to see if he will lead us back to something big."
The British soldier forced the growing fear he was experiencing away, it would have been improper despite the stories that had been circulating the ranks about this swamp. Pulling back the hammer on his flintlock pistol, he scanned the dark, "You have five seconds!"
The American soldier couldn't help but grin at the sound of the other's voice. "It looks like we've already got him scared." His nerves were cool and calm as he turned towards his comrade. "Think you can get him to waste his shot?"
"Not sure we need to. As long as he run's back it doesn't make any difference." The blond was glancing around for an opportunity to really scare the Red Coat. He usually tended toward tomahawks. The idea of Native Americans really startled most people that weren't settlers.
For the red coat's part he was playing directly into their trap, edging slowly closer toward what he didn't know was the enemy's position. Pistol leveled he took his free hand and rummaged around in his satchel, checking to make sure the seal was still there. Finding it he breathed a brief sigh of relief.
"I wonder when he's got that's so important." The American mused idly to his colleague as he produced a tomahawk. He nudged his partner, preparing him to move before throwing the hatchet into a tree close enough to the Red Coat it looked like an accidental miss.
Seconds later the tomahawk slapped into the wood next to his head. "Aah!" the redcoat screamed, accidentally firing his shot into the darkness randomly. "Natives," he faintly mumbled, pulling a knife from his waist. "I'm, uh, not here to harm you!"
The American in the ditch let out a laugh at the sound of the Brit's voice. "I think you may have gotten him to soil himself with that one." Still in a crouched position, he moved in an arch to take a position at an angle to his companion. Looking back, he waited for a signal to move in. They weren't going to let this Redcoat get away with whatever it was he was trying to hid from them.
"Clip that tree to run him down into a valley." The blond pointed out the target before reloading his rifle. "I was going to follow him but we might just have to end this. If that's a message then we can't risk playing with him."
The other American knew the seriousness coming from his partner's voice. He knew that the time for games were over. As he gave the blond man enough time to reload his gun, he took enough time to aim his own riffle at the tree behind the scared looking Brit. Taking in a deep board, he fired another warning shot at the tree.
The shot had its desired effect and after the soldier removed himself from the dewy ground, he fled down into the valley, not even noticing that he'd dropped the satchel that he'd been carrying.
For a moment she thought she'd gone blind, as darkness met her vision. It took several moments before she could make out a tree-filled, swampy area, seemingly endless in her vision, a cloudy sky, and a shape moving on horseback in the moonless night. When her eyes adjusted further to the gloom she realized she was looking at Julian, in the uniform of a British Redcoat, complete with powder wig. The sight of it made her want to laugh.
Her vision moved with the rider, following the seal he must have in his saddlebag or in a pocket or bag on his person, but when she got far enough ahead to examine the surrounding landscape, Adrienne noticed shapes, barely moving, in the swamplands. Animals? No, they were definitely human. They were spaced out in pairs, seemingly waiting for something.
While she pondered what was going on, the rider slowed the horse to a trot, and Adrienne noticed it was frothing, as if exhausted. A noise from the trees had it spooking, rearing up.
The soldier's horse bucked wildly once, sending her rider to the ground with a thud before it ran away. His powdered wig now a few feet away, the British loyalist quickly pulled himself up from the mud and drew a flintlock pistol from his belt. Scanning the horizon, the soldier looked for anything that was amiss before he even thought of going after his horse- she didn't usually spook easily.
The horse's run ended with an abrupt crack as a Minie ball pierced it's chest and followed through to it's heart. By the time the smoke cleared from the shot, no one could be seen in the area. The leaves didn't rustle and twigs didn't break, unless someone wanted them to.
In the distance, another horse reared its head up at the sound of the crack. But quickly its rider, wearing Bobby Drake's face, patted it on the neck to calm it down. "Easy Ice Chute...." The horse hit the ground and its rider began to have the horse pace slowly forward, trying to get a report on the damage.
"Who's there?!" The soldier shouted, leveling his pistol toward the sound of his horse. "In the name of the King I order you to identify yourself at once!"
Leaves rustled in one place, then another, then another; the succession was so quick it couldn't possibly be just one person in all those places at once. No advance was made yet, other than the attack on the British soldier's horse. All that was announced was that someone was present and they didn't want that soldier to leave just yet.
In the distance the man on the horse slowly dismounted and crouched as he moved forward, trying to keep stealthy in the process. He dropped his voice to try and keep it from being heard by the British soldier, but by the sound of it, he was already hearing things that weren't there, and the blast wouldn't help him hearing the low voice of the blond talking to an unseen accomplice. "What do we have?"
"One Red Coat. Looking for his unit now. I can't imagine he's alone." The blond- Sam Guthrie again, Adrienne noticed ruefully- slipped in quietly alongside the other American. "I'm going to start him running to see if he will lead us back to something big."
The British soldier forced the growing fear he was experiencing away, it would have been improper despite the stories that had been circulating the ranks about this swamp. Pulling back the hammer on his flintlock pistol, he scanned the dark, "You have five seconds!"
The American soldier couldn't help but grin at the sound of the other's voice. "It looks like we've already got him scared." His nerves were cool and calm as he turned towards his comrade. "Think you can get him to waste his shot?"
"Not sure we need to. As long as he run's back it doesn't make any difference." The blond was glancing around for an opportunity to really scare the Red Coat. He usually tended toward tomahawks. The idea of Native Americans really startled most people that weren't settlers.
For the red coat's part he was playing directly into their trap, edging slowly closer toward what he didn't know was the enemy's position. Pistol leveled he took his free hand and rummaged around in his satchel, checking to make sure the seal was still there. Finding it he breathed a brief sigh of relief.
"I wonder when he's got that's so important." The American mused idly to his colleague as he produced a tomahawk. He nudged his partner, preparing him to move before throwing the hatchet into a tree close enough to the Red Coat it looked like an accidental miss.
Seconds later the tomahawk slapped into the wood next to his head. "Aah!" the redcoat screamed, accidentally firing his shot into the darkness randomly. "Natives," he faintly mumbled, pulling a knife from his waist. "I'm, uh, not here to harm you!"
The American in the ditch let out a laugh at the sound of the Brit's voice. "I think you may have gotten him to soil himself with that one." Still in a crouched position, he moved in an arch to take a position at an angle to his companion. Looking back, he waited for a signal to move in. They weren't going to let this Redcoat get away with whatever it was he was trying to hid from them.
"Clip that tree to run him down into a valley." The blond pointed out the target before reloading his rifle. "I was going to follow him but we might just have to end this. If that's a message then we can't risk playing with him."
The other American knew the seriousness coming from his partner's voice. He knew that the time for games were over. As he gave the blond man enough time to reload his gun, he took enough time to aim his own riffle at the tree behind the scared looking Brit. Taking in a deep board, he fired another warning shot at the tree.
The shot had its desired effect and after the soldier removed himself from the dewy ground, he fled down into the valley, not even noticing that he'd dropped the satchel that he'd been carrying.
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