NUTS AND BOLTS ¯ᶠʳᵉʳᵃʳᵈ

1. Intro

Year: 1719

The day was a cold one. Winter had well and truly settled and there was no doubt about it.

The sky overhead was solid grey from horizon to horizon, there was no breeze blowing but that was a blessing considering how cold it was. Snow was drifting lazily from the clouds and seeming to hang motionless in the air before gently landing on the already white land. The trees that lined the icy road were bare and gnarled, snow landing and resting precariously on their outstretched branches. A little robin was hopping from tree to tree, its red breast standing out against the white of the snow.

The scene was beautiful, calming. And the man who rode down the path was pleased to be there, even if the air was so cold that the only thing visible was his eyes, peeking out from beneath the brim of his wide, black hat, above a black bandana wrapped around his face right up his nose. His hands that were wrapped around the reigns of his horse were coated in thick, leather gloves and beneath his cape and riding clothes he was wearing numerous vests and leggings.

The man kept his horse at a steady trot, enjoying the scenery and making sure the great black beast did not slip on the patches of ice. The air was misty from the cold and the path seemed to stretch ahead into a great fog, like it was never ending. The man liked it that way, it was much more mysterious. Though he kept his wits about him, roads such as these could be dangerous. No amount of snow or ice would stop bandits from hunting for their next victim.

The man atop the horse was young and slender, but his body was strong. He had a flintlock pistol in his belt and a sword attached to the saddle of his horse. The horse itself was all black, with long eyelashes that were sparkling from snow that landed on them. Its eyes were large and brown, not unlike its masters. It had a blanket draped over its back beneath the saddle to help keep it warm as it clopped slowly down the snowy road.

The man tensed a little as he noticed movement up ahead, only the slightest shift beside one of the trees but he knew he had seen it and he looked closer. As he gazed he thought he could see a figure stood beside one of the bare trunks and he considered pulling his horse to a stop, but he supposed the safest thing would be to just continue on his way.

He didn't get far though when another figure appeared, this one making themselves known. The gentleman could hardly miss them when they stood right in the middle of the road. There was only one at first, sat atop a chestnut brown horse and aiming a pistol at the gentleman's heart, their face hidden by the black mask associated with their trade.

"Stand and deliver." The voice that demanded the gentleman to stop was smooth and cool, full of authority and conviction. "Your money or your life."

Another two highwaymen appeared beside the first, flanking him on each side. They too had horses, a white one and a grey one. They wore matching outfits to the man in the middle, and though they had guns they did not point them at the man on the black horse, waiting to see if he co operated first.

The gentleman sighed and gently tugged on the reigns of his horse, pulling him to a slow stop and staying silent for a long moment as he looked at the highwaymen. His horse pawed the ground idly with one hoof and shook his head, air blasting from his nostrils like smoke and he whinnied softly. The snow falling around them made the moment somewhat calm and dream like, though the gentleman felt the first stirrings of fear. You would be a fool to not fear highwaymen, especially gentleman of the road, as those on horses were known. Footpads were nowhere near as dangerous, if they could not afford to own a horse then they were obviously not very good at their job, but those with horses, especially three all together, told the gentleman that these were serious men. They probably hijacked horse and carriages a lot, those were the richest bounties.