I dreamt again today.

Again, I found myself in that world, a world within the realm of Quietude, where all seems to me an elysian fields➖a place of utter bliss.

I found myself on a shingly beach on a fair night, brightly litted by thousand squadron of fluttering stars.

Far beyond lies a roaring sea, tossing, rolling toward the beach in its fitful show of might and strength.

I trudged onward to the mighty formidable sea, plunging into it in a daring dive, just in the manner of a flying dolphin. I started out within its affable expanse in a crawl, arms flailing at my sides, legs paddling at its pullulating wave, in the signature manner of the Baltimore bullet➖Michael Phelps.

I switched to the butterfly, meeting the undulating current face up. My breath coming in even spurts, runnel of water oozing into the pores of my flexile body. And the feel of that was mirth coupled with bliss.

I swam on, on and on, relishing in the refreshing luxury of such aerobic activity. I changed course from right to left, from left to right and it whatsoever direction and angle there is.

As this went on in that beyond realm, I found a hand shaking, and calling me from another. The shriek of that piercing voice slit through me and the inner world I live at the present. Its sheer force slammed into that glassy world, shook every inch of it, and splintered it into shards.

At that, I found myself back in a world; tiny, compact, and cluttered with clothes, books and other trivial things.

It was my room.


I sat up in a blink, and leveled my gaze to meet that of my mother, whose expression was blank and blanch.

And that was all I need, for a light bulb to flicker on in my conscience, knowing the worst must have been done again.

I patted down my nightclothe, to that fulcrum of the man in me. Alas! The deed has been done yet again. Again, I had soaked by mat, just like every other time i had dreamt of swimming while sleeping.

On reflex my hand swept over my forehead, down to my chin, as I have again been shamed by this belittling act. Bedwetting.

Bedwetting... What ya think about this phenomenon folks?

What's your experience like with bedwetting? Drop ya comment.

My venturous hand found her smooth puffy cheek, racing, darting across the acreage in the fluid movement of a ballet dancer. My aching lips found her soft pliant ones in a lust-drive for pleasure. My hands grazed her chin, to the depression within her neck in a frantic race of bubbling feel for that one deadly sin, tracing an invisible map over to her nape. Switched over to autopilot, my hand ventured on, way down to her spine, and in one swift swipe, I had her lacy gown swimming down her body. I stared into her glassy eyes, which beckoned onto me in a serpentine whisper; luring, and calling me, with a promise of a taste of paradise.

I gave in to that silent voice within her brown beady eyes, and tucked both my hands around her neck. And together we shuffled toward the waiting embrace of my bed. Our lips moving in hungry unison, my hands skittering over her body, to bring her to the high cliff of pleasure. While her hands paced relentlessly over my now bared torso, snaking through the tuft of hair on my chest, and over abs and pecs, painstakingly chiseled out of my body.

Long last, we found the comfort of my bed, as we clutched to each other for dear lustful feeling, each a dependent parasite on the other, like a lice on skin. Our breath mingled, as our heart acclived for more. And the beats of our hearts thumped out as one.

In no time, we're both in our birthday suit, both unashamed of the other in the raw, just as it was in the beginning of time, between Adam and his Eve.

Once again my enterprising hands was at the go, as it found the mound rigged upon her chest, and from this; kneading and handling ensued. The ongoing torture pleasure was an seesaw experience, going up and down on an even swing, as she also found the core of the man in me, stroking, and jerking it with pure deftly mastery.

This went on for a long time, before I took up the bridle of leadership, and stroked down her abdomen with my active tongue, until I reached down her place of ethereal bliss➖the very paradise enclosed within her. Labium.

My mouth dipped into a genuflect to worship in that holy altar within her, pleading her with each tender lap of my tongue, and my hand joined in her praise with the slip of my fingers into that membrane of flesh.

She holloaed in ecstatic joy and I joined soon as the first wave of that precious fluid spurted out of my erect statue, ready and waiting to plunge into that well within her.

Sudden and sadly, I found myself lost in a rather world. A world where there's no company with me in the closet of my tiny room. A world where there's no plummy girl to take me on a swing to the summit of unrivaled pleasure, but my pillow, which I must have been riding for long to take me to that far and away world.

But to my dismay, I found my member as hard as a plinth. From this and the obvious fact of, a sticky substance splattered across the fly region of my trouser, I could easily realized I have done it again. I had MASTURBATED over again.

And what 'bout this?

Will love to have your views on this

I'll be starting something new on this thread folks. And it will be the inception of a series I called the 'Knight of valor episodes'. It's basically a work of fiction, and it promises to take us on trip through the tale of a gallant knight, called Sir Ogumola. Through out this piece which has a setting of medieval time and will be mostly written in medieval English, I will syncretize some famous stories to my interest, and tell it afresh from the perspective of my protagonist, a good swordsman and wanton being. Hope you enjoy the adventures of sir Ogunmola.

[Episode one: Another victory yet]


It could all begin with the orient sun burning high-red from the isle far off in the azure sky. Or better still, the clamor of gleeful spectators foregathered in the crescent arena with dewy-eyes filled to brimful satisfaction as they watched the two figures sparring upon the ground of the arena strewn with sand. Or rather, the unremitting resounding clangs as blades met squarely against the other, the low grunts emitting from the brawling twain, and the sweats and blood, now merged into one swimming down their faces. They've both ventured into this ticklish enterprise to serve the interests of the bubbly crowds, who had a bet placed on their heads, likewise the blue bloods, all preened in robes and garbs, who watched on in pleasure.

"How much longer will you hold back, prithee?" The flaxen haired knight asked his adversary amidst the clamoring and scrapping.

"For as long, till I think otherwise." Quoth the other man, who parried a blow trained at his chest by the older knight, and fluidly sidestepped as more jabs came fleetly at him.

"You find me a worthy adversary?" He couldn't help but ask the question long cropping in his mind.

"Methinks, all mine adversary are worthy all time." He gave him a pat reply, deflecting more blows as they come.

"Oh, really?"

He was dubious of that, for his adversary was indeed the best swordsman through the land of Koso and the neighboring empires. And also think him a cocky fellow who vapors with his every victory and accomplishment.

"Pay this your mind, if thou fain to live of after with your heart."

Flaxen-haired growled at his remark in contempt, going on a high with his every attack. "Fight now and save thine skin, or else, I shall have your head." He caught a smile rippling across his face, and this made him even furious.

"I must say our time is well spent, sir Ananke." Was his only response as he traded blows for blows, this time with more intensity than before.

A minute span later, he had him sprawled on the sandy ground of the arena, his epee blade trained at him, after he had feinted to a side and threw him a biting blow on his brow.

That was it. As always he had another knight on his knees, another credit to his name, a new add-on trophy to his glorious streak of victory.

He gave a feeble smile as the crowd of spectators roared his name, with hands threshing in mid-air.

Thrilled by their reaction, he also joined in with a toss of his hands in victory, relishing every flying moment in pure gratification.

He was ever so the gallant knight of Koso, the finest warrior of the land, the impregnable swordsman, the best of men to ever don a knight's tunic of the great empire. He was of noble birth. He was dark and very dangerous. Sir Ogunmola, he was called.

That night, soft moans escaped from within the walls of one of the bedchamber in the imposing castle of Koso.

On the inside, the room was Spartan, with drab high-rising walls, and windows draped in tapestry, the only furnishment from within being a reading table, and chair, likewise a pallet stationed on the far right wall, upon which rested feather pillows.

Cuddling against the left wall of the room, dimly litted with the burning glow of a candle were two figures, stripped to their birthday suit. The form of the first figure was that of a feat-bodied man, with inky mane of hair, and a bulk of two hundred and a twenty, and an even strength, similar to that of a Destrier horse. His mate in the act was, a gold-haired lady with buxom build and blue flecked beady eyes, twinkling ever so as the stars.

After the triumph in the arena, Sir. Ogunmola found himself on another ground, different from that of the theatre of war. It was not a ground of blood and sand, rather it was that of heightened pleasure, and bliss.

The young lady had strutted into his bedchamber with a beamish demeanor, and found him lying spread-eagled in his bed.

On sighting her, he had bound off of his bed, striding in a trot to her side to engage her lips in a French kiss. After which, the pleasure play as ensued.

"I must be gone now my lord." She mumbled out as his skilled hands roamed about the superficies of her body.

"Why must thou fleetest so soon, my dearling?" He asked once as his hand slipped into the moist canal betwixt her thighs, stroking over it in circles.

She writhed at his touch, funking deeper against the wall as he went on with his fiddling with her button (clit). "I'll go now and come sooner, that I promise."

"And if I say no?" He asked, looking up at her twinkly face.

"I think not, my lord." She said with a smile. "I really must go now." She withdrew from his hold, scampering about to gather her clothing strewn in the room.

He watched the light-of-love woman, he had come to love as she swam into her cloak in haste. He regarded her with much love than any lady in the land, more than the pretty daughters of the lords, willing and ready to throw themselves into his arms at all cost. She was of low-birth, yet he loved her servile self to any patrician.

"I love you, my lord." She said without waiting for his response as she bolted out the oaky door.

"I love thee more, mine darling, Moremi." He returned in a low voice, bending to retrieve his mantle off the ground.

That was the other side of this knight, the 'fave' of most wenches through the whole of the land➖an attractor of lewd looks from vassal lords mistresses, and servantry. The shady part, and wanton personality that fills the vacuum of his being to a whole.

The knight of valor episodes.

Episode two: [The Wyvern, the fair Lady Egbin, and the knight.]

One could hear the rustling of leaves, so as the cracking of twigs, likewise the heavy stomps of running feet through the woods. And also, the flapping wings of birds perched on boughs and birches of trees as they took to height as the stomps grew louder and nigher.

Sweats swam down a face fairer than that of a morning rose, but now made unsely by the impending doom. Prickling tears tore their way down virid eyes that did all to put to shame the green of emeralds. Raspy ragged pants came in spurts through an orifice bordered by two fleshly fold of tissues, lushly red as ripe tomatoes. Also, the chest that bore the weight of twain mound of flesh heaved up and down in a fast-tapped cadence. While wobbly legs tugged the whole bulk of the running figure at the bidding of the mind, for dear life.

Lady Egbin ran in amain through the woodland, past thicket and glade, over mound and crag, pulling the flare end of her silky flowing gown to her side as she darted along in a pace that could eclipse that of a wheezing arrow.

Every steps sent a grid of pain through her body, and each breath, a spike tearing through her lung as she skittered and meandered past in an uneven line

Right on her tail was a creature with red ominous tiny orb of a eyes, an ugly galling snout, and a mouth fraught with jutting craggy teeth, from which a screech and gust of fire escaped. With every beats of its enormous wings, the creature soared bulk large in the air, wagging its evil serpentine scaly-tail, dead-set on having its fleeing prey to itself.

'tis unfair to be chosen this lot of hers. So very wrong to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. And what's worse, is her implacable fate and gods that has forlet her at this dark hour, leaving her to the dooming end that beckons to her.

She had cursed and cussed over and over, since the wyvern had came out of the blue, to bring to an end what was once a fair and bright moment of her life. Stiil yet, the gods has left her for doom, to what will be a grim end of her span at the hands of the darned creature.

"Somebody help, please!" She shrieked with the last ounce of strength in her as the shadow of the wyvern loomed over her.


A hide of land away in the fields vestured in green. Sir Ogunmola was on one of his ofttimes hunting course, riding on the back of his Destrier horse;➖Tasuloru in a prance, with his pageboy, a red-haired boy, who had his quiver, filled with fledged arrows strapped to his back upon the saddle of his mule.

They rode through the thick, cloaked in permeant silence, the only source of life activity being the chirps of insects, and tweets of birds.

Shortly, the silence that was the sovereign at the hour was lanced through by a booming shriek from a far off distance in the woods, which got a hold on the attention of the two riders.

"You harken that holloa? Don't you?" He asked the boy straight off.

"Aye sir." The boy said. "But there's no telling whitherward it sprung?"

"That's a distress call for certes." He opined. "We must reach out to whomever that was sooner 'fore something dire set upon the fellow." With that he spun his horse around, kicking at its sides to spur it into a dash toward the sound. While the boy followed in selfsame pace on his trail.


Lady Egbin scrambled through the thick of her misery, evading the grabbing tentacles of wild ivies, and vines, the pricks and tugs of pineweed and other wiry plants. She resisted the urge to claw at her face crawling with insects, along with the instinct to rub at an itchy spot on her brow, pumping strength to her legs as she tried to throw off the dogged creature upon her.

She was running on a low on strength with each daring attempt to force her legs to run, just as she was about winded, in a short time. But still, she wasn't allowed the luxury to wait and get her wind back with the dogged creature giving a chase on her.

With tears burning her eyes, and a glance on the path dead ahead, she could tell her doom was sealed. She was running straight into a standstill➖a point where there will be no where to run no more.

Long last, she came to a halt inches away from the mouth of a high cliff, bending over in a bid to regain her wind. She wasn't going down to an oxygen debt, she had resolved on instant impulse. And she would rather die from a drop from the cliff than live to see a torturous fate at the hands of the heinous creature.

Silently, she prayed for her end to come as fleetly as possible, full of high-hopes that the passage into the netherworld will peace her worldly sufferings.

On the other hand, the wyvern alighted from altitude, landing on its paws in a swift sweeping motion, with blood-red eyes gleaming with overwhelming gusto. Now, it has her pinned, with no way around the straits she was caught in.

Just in time, the fate and gods she had cussed no less than an umpteenth time came to her aid with a manifestation of a guardian spirit➖a knight riding on horseback in shining armor, on whose wake a redhead boy also ride.

"Come no any further!" He waved the boy to a halt. "Stay and watch the scene aloof." He added in a final note of injunction, climbing down the horse, which reared at the sight of the terrifying creature yonder.

"Aye sir."

Afterward, he marched breast-forward towards the creature and the hapless lady in long big strides.

"Fie!." He hollered, and watched as the wyvern swiveled around to face him, sizing him up with face scrunched up in a glare, and mouth parting in a snarl. "How about you square it all out it with me, big fellow?" This he said with the drawing of his blade; wrought of pure adamantine steel, with gilded tilt, broad metal blade and a tapered nose, that has tasted a thousand cask of blood.

Her heart leaped in joy at the turn of events, her almost crumbled faith rising from its ruins, along with a new feel of hope.

"At last, sweet heavens harken my plaints." She breathed, slipping away from the spot to the boulder beyond.

Irked by his insolence, the wyvern lurched at him, flailing its spiky tail to home in some damage.

On instant reflex, he ducked fluidly under the blow, sidestepping around more coming on its tail. He did brilliant skirting the dead on target thrusts and lunges thrown at him by the wyvern with its tail, rolling under as yet another blow came at him.

Long into the fight. He found an opening, with a sashay around the threshing tail of the wyvern, and with a dead-aim thrust he gored its right eye.

A roaring screech escaped the mouth of the wyvern as darkness suck up its impaired eye, staggering back with a furious stamp of its paws that shake the ground beneath them.

Through it all, lady Egbin stood upon the boulder watching the battle betwixt the wyvern and the gallant knight, who has shown a skill superior to that of any man wielding a sword she had ever seen. What manner of man fight with such prowess? She couldn't help but wonder on the spot.

There's but a man she had heard many a tale about his heroics, who was audacious in the face of death, dry as dust in adversaries, unflinching even in the keep of danger. He was the best warrior ever birthed by a man in their land and neighboring empires➖a lone wolf that could tackle down a remuda. Or could it be what she's thinking...

She watched as the scene unfurls with much steam, both side coming at each other in full-blown onslaught.

Before long, the wyvern lashed out with its tail, which met the knight square at the chest, casting him heavily against a mesquite fifty paces off.

With the damage done, he picked himself off the ground, retrieved his blade nosed into the ground not far off in a fluid deft movement, and wiped at the filter of blood at the side of his mouth. He'd hit his rear hard against the tree, and perhaps might have broken a bone from the impact. But being who he was, and what was long ingrained in him as a knight, he was willing to fight it through, no matter how unfavorable the odds seems. Fighting to the end, that's the code by which a knight must live.

Bubbling with rage from the inside, he dared a fleeting glance at the snarling creature, who did naught but mirrored his very own fury with its body language.

Giving him as little time to breathe, the wyvern charged at him again, while he breasted with its lunge head-on, skidding sideways to avert the arc of fire hosed down from its mouth.

With the agility of a monkey, he rolled out of the reach of the leavings of fire spurted from the wyvern, bracing himself up for more of its tail deadly swing which came as a followup.

Both side stood their ground, tactfully waiting for yet another crack or opening in the palisade of their defenses, for long time.

As time cart away, He fought twice even harder than he had before, making precise footwork around its attack, which affords him a minute luxury of making a passado on it. He followed through with rapid blows in succession, swirling around another swing of its spiky-tail, which afterwise was a bad move by the creature, and gave him a chance at victory as he plunged his blade right into its heart.

The wyvern gave a final beat of its wings, falling off its feet to its death on instant.

He watched as the fall heaved a pillar of dust from the ground, twirling around to meet the amused look that now replaced the frightened expression once plastered on the lady's youthy face.

Lady Egbin removed the hand she had sealed her mouth with on reflex as she watched the wyvern slumped to its end. The darned creature had fallen by the blade of the knight at last, for which she was more than pleased.

Soon enough, he sheathed his blade, making onward the boulder in a smooth elegant gait. He stopped short by the boulder, dipped in curtsey, and reached a hand out to the lady, in the very chivalric manner of a knight. "There's no reason to be affright no more." He said to her in a voice soft as the brush of summer's breeze.

Obligingly, she tucked her tiny, prim hand into his strong own, feeling the callused pad of his thumb against the back of her palm, as he set her gently down from the boulder.

The calluses of his hand and his sure grasp gave an assent to her prior conjecture of how great a man he was.

"Thanks so very much, sir." She said, feeling a mite of rue as he withdrew his hand from hers. The very touch of him against her skin was honey-sweet and had thinned the strong wrench she had on her emotion. Likewise battering into her wall of defense, leaving it in a mess of splinters. She was raw for once from the inside.

'tis indeed wrong to have that cropping up in her silly mind at the instance, so outright improper to have such a feel for an absolute stranger, those scruple she was aware of. But still, what manner of woman wouldn't wind up at the sight of such pretty face man, but a frigid woman?

"By what do find yourself at this peril, young miss?" He asked.

"It's very much a long tale to tell, sir."

"Still I fain to know." He pressed.

"I was riding with my hunting party before the darn creature came out of the blue, after which I've lost touch with them." She explained.

He nodded in understanding, turning away from her as he remembered the boy he had ordered to stay clear of the scene. "Asanke!" He called out loud. "You may come hither now that all is hushed." He added ever so slickly.

The red-haired boy emerged from his hideaway in the woods on the back of his mule, with a black shock of unruly mane, and a contrasting brown tail end. His Sire's Destrier reined at his side as he galloped along to meet him and the lady.

"What name art thou called, lady?"

"Egbin, the first daughter of duke Sodeke." She gave him a fond narrow smile that crinkled the corner of her eyes.

"I know your Sire for sure." He said. "But you i've never laid eyes on before now." He added in a level voice.

"That must be because I have always sequestered myself in the study of my father's shelter."

"Then you must be a well-read lady." He remarked, turning again, this time, to take up the bridle of his horse.

"I'll take that as a compliment, sir." She said coyly.

He mounted the horse with an uncanny grace, straddled it with his sure muscled legs, and snuck his feet into the stirrups on either sides. "You'll ride with me back to town." He announced, reaching out a hand to her to pull her up the saddle.

She felt a tingling sensation as his hand wrapped around hers once more, in the bid for her to breast the saddle of the horse.

As she slipped in before him, seated betwixt him and the horse's ears, she felt the gentle caress of his breath against her neck, which pour thrills over her making her forget the pain of the stitch in her side for once.

With a kick at its side, he had the beast spun around in liquid ease, reining it into a two-beat stride with a gentle spur of his knees.

Unable to rein in her inquisitiveness, she was forced to asked the question long on the tip of her tongue with no afterthought. "Sir, art thou the famed knight, sir Ogunmola?" She stuttered out.

He gave a brief smile at her sand, and naive undertone in her voice, before giving an evasive response. "And if i say yes?"

"Oho!" She said in astonishment. "By the lord, it really is you!"

Too long...i cannot come and kill myself with long write-up

[quote author=mema900 post=66837723]Too long...i cannot come and kill myself with long write-up [/quote

Am guessing you are pretty lazy... But anyways, you gotta check this out.

[quote author=holarbolu post=66839510][/quote]

I know am lazy....my mama use to say it when i was small

Looking interesting. Like the drawing you got there

I design ebook covers for only one hundred naira ₦100. PM me or check my signature.
https:///2348027329239

I can design covers for the following:
•Amazon •Barnes and Noble •Kobo •Apple Store •Draft2digital •SmashWords
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Payment can be made through any of the following:
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•Airtime credit. VTU and pin
•Payoneer •Skrill •Neteller •Perfect Money
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If you would like to see my portfolio, check my thread on my signature.

If you want to chat on WhatsApp, https:///2348027329239

You can also quote me.

Freebiez:
Looking interesting. Like the drawing you got there

I design ebook covers for only one hundred naira ₦100. PM me or check my signature.
I can design covers for the following:
•Amazon •Barnes and Noble •Kobo •Apple Store •Draft2digital •SmashWords
•Okadabooks

Payment can be made through any of the following:
•Bank transfer.
•Airtime credit. VTU and pin
•Payoneer •Skrill •Neteller •Perfect Money
•Bitcoin or any crypto currency of any kind.

If you would like to see my portfolio, check my thread on my signature. If you want to chat on WhatsApp, my number is in my signature.
You can also quote me.

You don't mean it! #100?

mema900:


I know am lazy....my mama use to say it when i was small

Methinks otherwise... I see you are not, I see you can do it. I see you can hold on.

holarbolu:


Methinks otherwise... I see you are not, I see you can do it. I see you can hold on.

That is what you think

Freebiez:
Looking interesting. Like the drawing you got there

I design ebook covers for only one hundred naira ₦100. PM me or check my signature.
I can design covers for the following:
•Amazon •Barnes and Noble •Kobo •Apple Store •Draft2digital •SmashWords
•Okadabooks

Payment can be made through any of the following:
•Bank transfer.
•Airtime credit. VTU and pin
•Payoneer •Skrill •Neteller •Perfect Money
•Bitcoin or any crypto currency of any kind.

If you would like to see my portfolio, check my thread on my signature. If you want to chat on WhatsApp, my number is in my signature.
You can also quote me.

Will hit you back soon man

[quote author=mema900 post=66845217]

That is what you think[/quote


I see you can do it!

[quote author=holarbolu post=66845273][/quote]

That is what you see

mema900:


That is what you see

Anyway, it's what I believe in

Kindly tell what ya think 'bout this

castrol180:




You don't mean it! #100?

For new customers only. ₦100.

holarbolu:



Anyway, it's what I believe in

Thats what you believe and what you believe is your business. Me worrying about what you believe is me poking into your business and that is my business

It's unbelieving that the guardian spirit sent from above to aid her in her plight was the finest knight thru the land. It was out of this world that she was riding on the same horse with the knight highly distinguished from his peers. What's worse was, she'd had the mind she was in love with him at first sight, or mayhap that was a thought watered by her lustful feeling. She had heard the legendary tale of the knight from hearsay drifted along by common folks every now and then, but has never come across the man in the flesh, and now that she beheld him, she was willing to bed him right away, and bade a bye to her long kept chastity. She would give her virgin blood to him with no afterthought. That was wrong to think of, but still, she couldn't shake off the thought.

Once again, he had saved the day as ever. A knight in his twenty-third year; waxing in strength in his salad days, formidable to most adversary, dauntless and brutal when need calls.

He rode homeward to safety with the lady sharing his saddle, and the boy getting along in selfsame pace on his mule, as the sun sink down in the horizon westward.

He raced the horse along the trail hewn out by their prior passage through the thick, paced past pathways and shoulders off roads, and shot down over crag and knoll, never taking his keen eyes off the path yonder.

The horses' hooves along with his yell winnowing through the air at the hour as they breezed past.

Episode three on the way!

[Episode three: King Gaa ]

The whiplash of the driver's flagellum exhorted the yoke-drawn hansom into a scurry over the roughcast terrain of the route on the fringe of Koso empire. The driver's awearied eyes trained at the path beyond. His skilled hands guiding the cab along the path crowded at either sides by shrubbery. Seated behind him in the canopied carriage was his ward➖a young maiden lady who also happened to be his liege's daughter. And riding ahead of them in bunch were the company chosen to accompany them in their voyage.

Overhead, the sky brimmed with legions of stars along with the lone towering orb that was the the moon. This with the clement nighttime weather ensured it was a good night to journey. Deep inwith the bush, coyotes tooted in haphazardness, while a choir of crickets assented their lead with chirping chorus.

They had set upon their enterprise to Eba Odan➖a trade center far and away a sennight ago, and were returning to town with a deal of merchandise after their long venture.

Their smooth traversal was cut short as a confetti of arrow snarled at the riders from archers waylaying in hidden positions in the bordering bush.

The riders fell off their horses in quick succession, thumping out an an oddly rhythm as they fell into an embrace with hard ground.

In the fleeting second that follows, a yell of throes escaped the lips of the scrawny driver, as another arrow nail squarely into his brow. He lost his grip on the reins on instant, tumbling off his perch on the cab to his death.

The aftereffect of this was the careening of the hansom, coupled with the fearful shriek of the lady that traveled through the night.

After pitching sidewise for the briefest of time, the hansom toppled over and came to a final halt, it's upended wheels whirling as every last bit of sound was subdued from within the carriage.

At that, hooded figures donned in tight-fitting robes, which merged well with the hue of dusk emerged to the fore of the course. Two figures dashed over to the fallen cab, dragging out the swooned body of the lady out of the carrier.

"We must get away now." A gravely voice piped amongst the figures. And with less flurry, they dispersed back into the gloomth with their price.

More coming at the heels of the last update. Stay tuned

Your reviews folks