06-09-2014, 02:53 PM
Once again, Salem found himself in a situation he'd rather not be in.
It had been a simple enough request, really. A missing child, a few days gone, no clue of where to go or what to do. Finding children was (comparatively speaking) easy. Even out in a place like this, Salem didn't really have to think too hard or venture too far before finding the child. There had been a lack of any activities around the area that could be considered 'dangerous', at least in a sense that Salem would deem it to be. No violent sorts, no crazy people, no cults or witch hunts. It was Lycia, sure, but it was still relatively peaceful. Again, comparatively speaking. So he'd told the father that there'd be no issues there, and he'd find his son, and lo'. Salem was on his way. A little asking around, some small amount of detective work -- and Salem had been set in the direction that would inevitably cause him to find the child.
That had been roughly two days ago.
So now, Salem was in a worrisome situation. The recovered boy (a shy, reserved sort) held both hands upon his mouth in an attempt to seal the sounds of heavy breathing escaping his body. The scene had already been wrong, from the moment the village came into view once again. What had been a relatively active place was now silent. Whilst Salem's thoughts initially turned to the prospect of some form of attack, those ideas were quickly tossed aside. There wasn't a sign of any destruction, or even a struggle. Just silence. He didn't quite want to leave the boy out of his sights, and yet he didn't want to take the boy into the village for fear of whatever might have happened. In the end, Salem couldn't bring himself to leave the child on the outskirts of the village, so trail closely behind he did; eyes darting here and there in search for any semblance of activity in the place that was his home. Salem, meanwhile, had noticed some movements up ahead. Movements that caused him to sweep the boy up swiftly, and prop the two of them up by the nearby wall of a building -- out of sight for the most part. A little rough in his handling, Salem dropped the boy down to the ground, indicating a necessity for silence with his index finger against his lips. Peering out from around the wall's edges, Salem spied the one ahead.
It was most certainly a bandit. The clothing gave them away. Probably from some tribe, but Salem didn't know many of their customary attire by heart. He could just tell from a general style. Still, this one hardly looked like the perpetrator. There were probably more of them, but Salem could only see one. And this one didn't seem to hold the kind of air one would expect from...well, from someone (or something?) that could make an entire village vanish, seemingly without a trace. So an opportunist, perhaps? Maybe...but then, things would already be looking far messier than they did now. A few more possibilities ran through Salem's head -- but the shivering, tearful child next to him demanded action at that point. A clear look of reluctance upon his features (despite the obvious necessity), Salem indicated for the boy to stay put before drawing his blade from the scabbard upon the back of his hip. Stand straight, tall, and be prepared for a possible ambush.
Emerging from his not-so-subtle hiding spot, Salem cleared his throat before calling out to the bandit. That he was almost certain was a bandit. "Excuse me." Really? That was the best he could come up with? He blamed the weather.
It had been a simple enough request, really. A missing child, a few days gone, no clue of where to go or what to do. Finding children was (comparatively speaking) easy. Even out in a place like this, Salem didn't really have to think too hard or venture too far before finding the child. There had been a lack of any activities around the area that could be considered 'dangerous', at least in a sense that Salem would deem it to be. No violent sorts, no crazy people, no cults or witch hunts. It was Lycia, sure, but it was still relatively peaceful. Again, comparatively speaking. So he'd told the father that there'd be no issues there, and he'd find his son, and lo'. Salem was on his way. A little asking around, some small amount of detective work -- and Salem had been set in the direction that would inevitably cause him to find the child.
That had been roughly two days ago.
So now, Salem was in a worrisome situation. The recovered boy (a shy, reserved sort) held both hands upon his mouth in an attempt to seal the sounds of heavy breathing escaping his body. The scene had already been wrong, from the moment the village came into view once again. What had been a relatively active place was now silent. Whilst Salem's thoughts initially turned to the prospect of some form of attack, those ideas were quickly tossed aside. There wasn't a sign of any destruction, or even a struggle. Just silence. He didn't quite want to leave the boy out of his sights, and yet he didn't want to take the boy into the village for fear of whatever might have happened. In the end, Salem couldn't bring himself to leave the child on the outskirts of the village, so trail closely behind he did; eyes darting here and there in search for any semblance of activity in the place that was his home. Salem, meanwhile, had noticed some movements up ahead. Movements that caused him to sweep the boy up swiftly, and prop the two of them up by the nearby wall of a building -- out of sight for the most part. A little rough in his handling, Salem dropped the boy down to the ground, indicating a necessity for silence with his index finger against his lips. Peering out from around the wall's edges, Salem spied the one ahead.
It was most certainly a bandit. The clothing gave them away. Probably from some tribe, but Salem didn't know many of their customary attire by heart. He could just tell from a general style. Still, this one hardly looked like the perpetrator. There were probably more of them, but Salem could only see one. And this one didn't seem to hold the kind of air one would expect from...well, from someone (or something?) that could make an entire village vanish, seemingly without a trace. So an opportunist, perhaps? Maybe...but then, things would already be looking far messier than they did now. A few more possibilities ran through Salem's head -- but the shivering, tearful child next to him demanded action at that point. A clear look of reluctance upon his features (despite the obvious necessity), Salem indicated for the boy to stay put before drawing his blade from the scabbard upon the back of his hip. Stand straight, tall, and be prepared for a possible ambush.
Emerging from his not-so-subtle hiding spot, Salem cleared his throat before calling out to the bandit. That he was almost certain was a bandit. "Excuse me." Really? That was the best he could come up with? He blamed the weather.