The man reached for the caravan doors as he looked back at Balamor intensely,
“And I own one such dagger!”
Balamor watched the doors as they swung open. His excitement was soon overwhelmed with panic when two hooded men sprung from the back of the caravan. The elusive turned to break for the road when the merchant wrapped his arms around him, lifting his feet from the ground. He struggled as the two men walked towards him.
“Ha! You hobbits are all so gullible! You should have stayed in your hole!” Added the merchant, laughing as he wrestled the hobbit about.
Balamor couldn’t believe he fell for such a con, he knew he should have avoided the man altogether. Suddenly he remembered he still had his dagger, its hilt numbed his hand as he struggled. The desperate hobbit thrusted the blade into the torso of his captor. The short man bent over as he let out a sharp yelp, his grip broken by the hobbits daring attempt to break free.
Balamor fell to the ground as the first hooded man attacked. The blade of his broadsword pierced through the air, ready to pin his target to the ground . But the young hobbit was too fast, rolling out of the way and landing behind the merchant who was now limping toward the caravan. The highwayman man dug his blade deep in the earth when Balamor shoved the merchant towards him. The two bodies toppled over one another before they slammed against the caravan spilling the contents of various baskets and small chests. The remaining bandit hurdled over them as he came running in Balamor’s direction, his scimitar blade hissed as it departed its sheath.
The frightened map maker’s feet pounded against the road in short strides as he fought to gain ground on his hooded predator. Suddenly the Earth beneath his feet shook rapidly before Balamor watched small waves of dirt rush towards him, raising the huge polished stones and dropping them into back into place. Before he could leap to safety the ripple of earth knocked him off his feet, scattering the contents of his bag.
The merchant and the downed highwayman lifted themselves to their feet when they saw their comrade disappear under a thick blanket of dust. The wounded conman carried himself to the caravan and struggled to get into it his seat. He took the reins in his hands, and with a quick snap the wooden caravan darted down the pass towards the stone bridge.
The other bandit chased down the caravan dodging various stolen goods as they spilled out the back, the earth beneath his feet shook heavily once more, slightly knocking the bandit off balance. The young cartographer watched as a pillar of dirt rose from the flat ground, trailing him as he tried to escape. Dirt and stone flung into the air wildly as a large man-like figure ripped through the pillar in mid sprint.