Left path

Rushing down towards the split path, you hear heavy footfalls approaching you, faster than the rest of your pursuers. Your breathing becomes ragged as you push yourself harder to outrun the pursuit.

A small cart is parked just up ahead of you, a pile of barrels stacked inside it. Reaching out for the lever holding the back of it shut, you pull on it as hard as you can, releasing the heavy cargo straight on top of the man closing in on you. He let’s out a pained scream as he is buried, but you can’t stop to check on him, as the others are quickly catching up.

With their view of you temporarily obscured, you now have a few precious seconds to choose your path. Nothing gives you any clues as to where either of them lead, so on a gut instict you run down the left path, bare feet slapping against the worn cobblestone ground. You round the first available corner, and another, and another.

With your breathing becoming laboured and your lungs screaming for air, you come to a stop the closest doorway. Your heart pounds under your heaving breasts as you try to gulp down air.

Peeking back to check for your pursuers, you see nothing. You can hear some distant street bustle, but nothing nearby catches your attention. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, followed by an exhilerated giggle. You are safe for now, but you still need to find a solution to your nudity problem.

Given what you just went through, you don’t even bother to cover yourself as you begin looking around for your next move.