Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27736349-20170313020704/@comment-31336039-20170417221811

''Okay, no time to get sorry. I had to make it ou of this trap to the mains streets, Provided they do not get in front ... 'MERDE! (equivalent of a vulgar and angry or disappointed « fuck », in french) 'I should have settled their accounts to the others two idiots, they would not have called his buddies to finish me.

In his flight the stranger had unfortunately crossed the road of the band of thugs who were looking for trouble last night. And now, he was trying to get out of the dangerous alleys that could close on him like a trap at any moment.

The tugs were giving everything they had to caught him and it was paying. They were getting closer at every turn. Sick and exhausted, the stranger did not even know in which direction he was running, missing crashing against the wall at each junction.

However, the ajar door of an obscure warehouse gave him the promise of a short respite. Rushing into the opening, he smashed the door in his hinges and blocked it by lowering the plank of the latch. The next second saw a dozen bandits in the street, who rushed to the other exit in pursuit.

Panting he stood leaning against the door for several minutes before forming coherent thoughts. His worsening fever, coupled with his exhaustion and malnutrition, all of it was near defating him. In an effort not to collapse, he turned and noticed a small door in the back of the warehouse leading to the adjacent large building. Judging his chances of remaining hidden in this obviously used warehouse and the questionable solidity of the door, he began to advance towards the door to check where it leads. Trembling with fever, he lifted his heavy boots one after the other, refusing to abandon under the yoke of his nausea at every step.

''Another effort and I could sleep! Just a bit more! Then I have to leave this cursed city. At least the itinerant merchants agreed to barter. If I stay here I'll just die of starvation.''

As he pushed the handle, in a sigh of relief he allowed himself to murmur :

" ...finally.... " while his vision turned abruptly black. A heavy crash resounded in the building as his body touched the floor, the contents of his bag spread to the ground, releasing metallic shocks and squeaks. Some women howling with panic were the last thing that his mind recorded before sinking.



(I wonder where he entered ... Not you?)