Escape

You have leap't mightily, putting all the strength you have in an effort to clear the oaken table, and you can feel your heart skip a beat as one of your feet strikes its edge, the impact sending you tumbling downwards towards the floor. You do your best to curl in on yourself as you fall taking the landing on your shoulder you roll forwards head over heels coming to a rest against the stone wall. Clambering to your feet you look around, the Orc and the Nord are racing towards you, circling around the tables from both sides in a pincer movement.

   There in the wall to your left, barely ten steps away is the door outside, but the space between you and the men is less than triple that and is shrinking quickly.  You hurry forward, seizing the iron handle you give a shove, the door swings outwards and grinning you step forwards toward freedom, mid-step a heavy weight hammers into you from your left, flinging you sideways, you land sprawled on the floor in front of the fireplace, your arm knocked over the stand of fireplace tools as you landed, they fall to the floor all around you with a loud metallic clattering.

   Dazed, you look upwards from your spot on the floor, standing over you and outlined against the doorway is the Orc, he must have body-checked you when you were escaping, striking you with sufficient **** to knock you clean off your feet.  He looks away from you speaking “Thorlald, let Marcus inside and start packing, we need to leave right now, this bloody dragon will destroy the entire town” he looks back down at you and grins, showing off his tusks “Don’t worry, sweet tits, when we leave I plan to take you with us“

   You can hear the footsteps of the Nord moving away from you, above you, the Orc continues to grin humourlessly at you and his eyes are dark and very cold as he crouches down beside you, one hand casually pawing your breast through your shirt, you feel a ripple of unwanted pleasure move through you at his touch.  The Orc stands and turns away from you, and that’s when you move, shoving yourself upwards into a kneeling position you reach out and your fingers wrap around the heavy fireplace poker, you are swinging even as the Orc turns around, drawn by the sound of your movement.  The poker takes him in the left knee, the joint giving a sound somewhere between a snap and pop as it was struck, the Orc howls with pain and fury as he begins to topple, your second blow is weaker as the angle is bad but takes him across the jaw, cutting of his roar.  Even as he comes crashing to the ground you are moving, crawling quickly across the floor and out the still open door, and carrying the poker with you.

   Outside you climb back to your feet and turn around, shoving the heavy door closed you spin the heavy iron poker sideways in your hands and slide it through the handle, jamming the door closed.  You turn away and hurry away, if your memory served you right there was a small village called Riveredge or Riverwood or something similar only a few hours walk to the north.