Cold reeds rasp at the ditch bank. Mud sucks at David Clarkson’s boots, and the drainage run opens ahead into a blacker cut of water and shadow. Behind him, the gate road tightens under spear and shield.
The First Inquisitor holds the road with a thin, satisfied stillness. Guard 1 and Guard 2 edge their shields together, sealing the crossing. The Woman at the Window stays near David, watching the bank and the men both.
First Inquisitor
Yield the bundle, David Clarkson. You have nowhere left to go.
The Reed Man hangs back by the road, livid and breathing hard, while the torn strip of David’s sleeve flutters on a reed in the wind. Then a rough splash sounds from the ditch ahead.
A narrow skiff noses out of the shadows below the bank, low and mud-streaked. Its prow bumps the reeds and turns sideways, as if waiting for the right hand to seize it.
The Woman at the Window
There. Move now, or they close us in.
David steps toward the hidden boat as the guards shift at the road. Water laps against the hull, and the ditch opens into a possible way out.
“I board the skiff with the woman”
SUCCESS (Legendary Agility, rolled +1)