Your hand is

Your thoughts are interrupted by another guard running by, shouting an alarm as he goes. Behind you, alarm bells begin to ring, rapidly spreading through the city. Peeking over the edge of the roof, you can see guards scrambling to attention, hands on the hilts of their swords. The guard who just ran past you skids to a halt in front of the group you're watching, and what he says next forces your hand.

The message he delivers before sprinting off again includes a full description of you, as well as a general call-to-arms and manhunt. You are extremely dangerous, and should be killed on sight. The gates are to be sealed until you're located. You scoff at that. The gates are the last place you'd plan on exiting the city. Problem is, with word of what you had done rapidly spreading, you don't have time to do anything but get out before their dragnet is in place. Hanging around is just begging to be killed.

With a quiet grunt, you take off across the rooftops, making for the nearest wall of the city, buildings flashing by as you sprint recklessly towards the walls. Shouts and screams surround you as guards gesture to citizens to stay put, roughly inspecting each one of them before shoving them into the nearest building. Whoever the man is who had you kill Prince Desmond most definitely wants you dead, and the guards are taking that very seriously.

As you draw nearer to the wall, a small pile of stuff on a rooftop grabs your attention, causing you to stop your mad dash for a second and inspect it. Sitting on the rooftop is a large waterskin and a satchel with a large chunk of salted pork and some bread in it. It seems someone's lunch was interrupted by the alarm. Without a second thought, you toss the waterskin into the satchel and sling it over your shoulder, then resume your dash towards the wall. Legs flashing, bare soles slapping against clay tile, you vault onto the last rooftop before the wall.

As you land, you can see the wall about 15 feet away from the far edge of the roof. Without slowing, you sprint towards it, glancing down the wall in either direction as you run. You can see guards mounting the wall with crossbows, but none of them will be close enough to take a good shot at you before you're gone.

As you hit the far end of the wall, your bare toes dig into the tile of the roof, propelling you through the air at the wall. Once again, this body amazes you, as you make the jump cleaning, alighting lightly on the wall for a split second as the guards mounting it shout for you to stop. You ignore them, hurling yourself off the wall, tucking into a front roll as the ground rushes up to meet you, then springing to your feet and dashing for the treeline. A couple of the guards take desultory shots at you, but none of them come close, and moments later you've vanished into the treeline.

You finally halt about ten minutes later, figuring you have enough time to pause for a few moments and take inventory of what you have. The list is quite short. One too-large tunic, which, unnoticed by you during your flight, slipped off your left shoulder and bared your breast again. Your gauntlets, sword, the message, and enough food and water for maybe three days if you ration it carefully. You sigh, glance down at your dirty bare feet, and tuck your breast away again. What you would give for proper clothes and shoes right now. Your mind turns to where to go.

You can wait out the worst of the alert, and take your chances inside the city again. Then again, without money, you're a bit short on ways to pay. Unbidden, an image of you on your knees sucking a merchant's cock comes to mind, giving you alternative to outright theft. On the other hand, heading to Greenstone is safer in other ways, notably the fact that the guards won't be hunting you way out there. There's a good chance you'll encounter a merchant caravan along the way, where you could probably acquire some more provisions and gear, with a little luck.