Apparantly the fat, hulking bastard's announcement that Fred and his ill-
fated comrads were going to be "guests of honor" didn't influence the way
the Baron's men treated them. His louts continued to prod the three
forward, further along the miskept roads that lead into the gloomy
highlands. As the skies had promised, a light drizzle began showering the
colorless countryside. Fred was almost ready to make his move. These drunken fools had failed to notice the armament and sword hidden beneath his tattered cloak, and that would be their fatal mistake. He had studied and sized up every soldier individualy, coming to the conclusion that the leader would be the only one who could or even would put up a real fight. Not only that, Fred had a sorcerer to back him up as well. He and Jernicus could take these pitiful, provential saps without so much as breaking a sweat! The only advantage the soldiers had was their horses, but even those would not save them from Fred's cold blade or Jernicus's searing fire.
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3/28/2003 6:47:53 AM
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