DeFrantis slipped under the window and continued creeping along the street to the back of the inn. As she went, she began to smell the aromas of cooking meats and stews wafting through another open window. It made her empty stomach beg. This was not the distraction she needed. She kept moving.
Soon the building ended and with it, the overhang. The wall she was leaning on changed to a fence. On the other side of it, she could hear a pig grunting. The smells had also changed. As she continued, the fence also turned a corner, and the street branched to the right into an alleyway behind the inn. The rainwater flowed out of the alley and into the street. She hurried across and into the alley, with the splashes rushing over her shoes and soaking her feet.
Feeling along in the rain and the darkness, she found a gate. She tried it, and it was locked. She looked up to the top of the fence and leapt up and grabbed the top. One of her hands slipped, and she shifted and reached again. She swung her body side to side and pulled herself up and over. She landed, feet-first, in a pile of straw. Her footing slipped in the wet straw and she fell back against the fence.
A light shone into the stockyard from an open door in the back of the inn. She could hear someone inside along with clanging pots. That must be the kitchen. To her right was a lower fence and through its sparse slats, she thought she could make out a pig. Further away, on the left was a chicken coop. Most of the chickens were huddling inside, but a few were pecking around the straw, dung, and mud under an overhanging roof of the coop.
She leaned forward, crouching on her heels and began creeping toward one of the chickens.
“C’mere!” she hissed, trying to both whisper and be a bit louder than the rain. She tried making clucking noises. “Get over here!” She moved forward, reaching for the chicken. It stood and stared at her as she got closer. She set herself for the spring, and threw herself at the chicken. It dodged away in a flurry of flapping and she landed in the muck.
The foul smell hit her immediately and she pulled herself up to her hands and knees. The clucking of the chickens sounded more like laughter to her. She scrambled to her feet and lunged at the nearest one, hissing, “You hold still!” She grabbed the chicken and stood with a surprised expression and questionable balance. She raised her eyes to look up at the angry innkeeper standing in the light of the doorway.
Soon the building ended and with it, the overhang. The wall she was leaning on changed to a fence. On the other side of it, she could hear a pig grunting. The smells had also changed. As she continued, the fence also turned a corner, and the street branched to the right into an alleyway behind the inn. The rainwater flowed out of the alley and into the street. She hurried across and into the alley, with the splashes rushing over her shoes and soaking her feet.
Feeling along in the rain and the darkness, she found a gate. She tried it, and it was locked. She looked up to the top of the fence and leapt up and grabbed the top. One of her hands slipped, and she shifted and reached again. She swung her body side to side and pulled herself up and over. She landed, feet-first, in a pile of straw. Her footing slipped in the wet straw and she fell back against the fence.
A light shone into the stockyard from an open door in the back of the inn. She could hear someone inside along with clanging pots. That must be the kitchen. To her right was a lower fence and through its sparse slats, she thought she could make out a pig. Further away, on the left was a chicken coop. Most of the chickens were huddling inside, but a few were pecking around the straw, dung, and mud under an overhanging roof of the coop.
She leaned forward, crouching on her heels and began creeping toward one of the chickens.
“C’mere!” she hissed, trying to both whisper and be a bit louder than the rain. She tried making clucking noises. “Get over here!” She moved forward, reaching for the chicken. It stood and stared at her as she got closer. She set herself for the spring, and threw herself at the chicken. It dodged away in a flurry of flapping and she landed in the muck.
The foul smell hit her immediately and she pulled herself up to her hands and knees. The clucking of the chickens sounded more like laughter to her. She scrambled to her feet and lunged at the nearest one, hissing, “You hold still!” She grabbed the chicken and stood with a surprised expression and questionable balance. She raised her eyes to look up at the angry innkeeper standing in the light of the doorway.
<<<>>>
This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing.
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Start the whole story from the beginning. Start from where this current story arc begins.
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