Miroslav leads the group down the road...within just a few minutes of westward travel there is a faint smell of burning in the air carried on the west wind.

Loukas rides along quietly keeping to himself with eyes wide open. He notes the comfort Miroslav seems to have taken in their current warlike state and wonders how their captain will settle back into "peace" once their part in this siege is done. His own motivation is vengeance, but he unsure how far he wishes to take things. Regardless, he is relieved that things have worked out as well as they have to this point; although, he finds himself wondering how much longer it will be before things stop doing so...

Dyanna rides quietly for a few moments until the familiar tang of burning touches her senses, then she looks intently to the west in search of the signs of burning.

While riding she pulls her bow out and strings it, a subtle, fluid motion that speaks of ease of use, and nocks an arrow.

"How far to the gate?" she calls to the front of their column.

       The Stridesman tries his best, takes the reins of his horse, and follows
everyone elses example in order to get his mount to go in the same direction as
the war party.  Gultunga has an urge to row and realizes that this won't simply
do.  As the Norseman rides along, he gives part of his attention as to what
lies ahead in the hopes that he'll spy out their adversaries approach . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 02:40, Sun 31 Jan 2010.

Jean stands in the stirrups and looks for the plume of the smoke.

Miroslav calls back to Dyanna..."Ha! Always ready with her bow! We should be at the gate in 45 minutes or so."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:05, Sun 31 Jan 2010.

"The smell of smoke perhaps speaks nearer than 45 minutes, Captain," notes Dyanna.  "It never hurts to be careful."

Pyotr puts away his juggling, begins to snack on some dried fruit. If things heated up quickly, it might be awhile before he got fed again.

"The fire is inside the city. If the water shortage is severe enough they are doomed."

Jean's voice is grim. He knows well that fire takes no sides in war.

As the party grows nearer to the gates the others see the plume of smoke. it is not huge, the city is not on fire but at least one building and possibly more are.

The road is several hundred yards from the city wall and as you all progress you can hear the sound of battle coming from the city in spurts. Shouts and clashes of weapons can be heard but only for moments at a time as if there is a series of brief skirmishes taking place.

"Surely Sviatoslav has not breeched the harbor yet! There is no way he could have reached the north wall this fast unless the city has offered no resistance. Let us pick up our pace and get to the north gate as soon as we can." He spurs his horse forward to double the mounts pace fully expecting the others to follow.

Knocking an arrow, Loukas spurs his horse, "Unless the citizens have risen up against the Emperor... 'Tis to much to hope for I suspect!"

The Knight heels his mount forward catching up with Miroslav and riding alongside him.

The wind howls in his ears as Storm's Wind surges forward to keep up with the other mounts.  Grinning, A'kos gives the horse it's head...it needs no urging from him.  The Falcon is eager this morning for the hunt...

       Gultunga continues to ride along with his companions, although it
appears that he's now at the rear of the throng of mounted companions.
His arse hurts miserably and the Stridesman longs to be afoot once again.

Dyanna sees the big man lagging behind and slows to join him.

"Gultunga, right?  You must ride with your legs, Sir, else you may do permanant damage.  Here, like this..."

Sitting her saddle as she was taught to ride as a girl, she shows how she uses her thighs to sit astride her horse.

"You are trying to sit with your...arse, if you pardon my expression.  That'll play hell on a man's danglies, from what I've been told by the horsemasters who once trained me."

"Now, let's slow a bit.  They'll not get far that we can't follow their dust, and I'll have you riding fair enough in but a short time..."

         The Stridesman follows the instructions that he's been given without
fail.  After a short while, the Norseman addresses his companion thats shown
him concern, not to mention the finer aspects of riding as well . . .

         "Gultungs thanks thee for thy instructions about how to manage this
equine, and for assuring that my danglies remain unharmed too!"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:59, Mon 01 Feb 2010.

Dyanna grins, a wide smile, and let's out a laugh.

"Now, Master Gultunga, let us see if you've learned anything."

Pushing her horse to a canter she keep her eyes upon Gultunga as he tries to keep up.

"Very good!" she shouts in encouragement, but pushes no harder, knowing the fiery agony the man will feel come the morning in his inner thighs...and imagining worse in his more private regions.

Jaleh urged her horse forward as well, just not quite as quickly as A'kos and the others. She was maintaining more of a cautious pace thinking to let her allies hit things head on while came in behind them. That way if there were any ambushes or opposing forces they would flush them out and get them in the open.

"More likely the Pechenegs have taken advantage of their patrons, and loot the city before the Rus can besiege it," Barmak suggests in response to Loukas's comment.  "Mercenaries are notoriously untrustworthy..."  He ceases his comment when he realizes the irony of his words.

Falling back to the rear of the party, Barmak keeps pace with Gultunga.  He heeds the advice that Dyanna gives to the Stridesman, having experienced similar difficulties, but not wanting to admit to them aloud.

The Falcon peers intently forward toward the city, anxious to find what awaits.

        The Stridesman knees his horse hard several times in an attempt to
lengthen its gait in order to catch up with everyone.  Without having real-
ized it Gultungs horse goes into a full gallop instead of just a canter
. . .

        The Norseman thriving on his newfound excitement of riding begins to
pass his peers whilst screams of joy can be heard above the din of the contingent of cavalry . . . "Yaaaaa Yaaaaa Ya Ya Hooooooooooy!!!"

And watches in some amazement as the Stridesman passes them by!

As the party gets closer to the gate, the sounds of battle from within grow louder.

Within a few minutes the gate is visible, It is a small affair little wider than the road itself...double heavy doors 10 feet wide with an iron gate dropped in front of that. Clearly anything important or large is dealt with via the docks.

There is a tower on each side of the gate but from the vantage point on the ground it does not look like they are manned. From the sounds of battle just on the other side of the wal it is fairly clear why the towers are unmanned.