333
‘Thank you, thank you … ’ cries the young woman, whose child you have just saved from certain death at the hands of the drunken thug. Sobbing with gratitude, she collapses at your feet. Gently you lift her by the arm and assure her with kind words that her ordeal is over. She smiles, reassured, but her expression quickly changes when she spots something moving behind you.
‘There he is, that cur Holkar!’ she spits. ‘He’s the murdering leader of these bandits. This chaos is his doing.’
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
You turn to look at the object of her hatred, and see a swarthy brigand dodging between the gravestones that line the abbey grounds. He has a sack full of loot slung over his shoulder and he is hurrying towards his horse which stands close by the abbey’s perimeter wall. Determined not to let him escape, you rush across the road and into the grounds of the abbey to give chase.
