### 291

It is soon after sunset when you arrive at Pirsi. Fog swirls through the gloomy streets and crooked alleys, but you can see light seeping from chinks in the reinforced shutters and doors of only a few of the cabins. You bring your horse to a halt and dismount beside the steps of a large log hut that serves as both a general store and tavern. Your steed neighs uneasily, drawing your attention to a group of stony-faced men who are advancing along the street. Torches blaze in their work-worn hands, casting a vivid yellow glow in their suspicious eyes as they approach you warily. Their leader, who is dressed in the uniform of an Eruan Pathfinder captain, steps to within inches of your face. Coldly he stares into your eyes, his jaw set in a rigid sneer of contempt.

'Have you forgotten how to salute, soldier?' he growls, menacingly. 'Or perhaps you're not a Pathfinder after all. Perhaps you're just another skulking Drakkar spy?' You notice that several of the men carry Bor pistols, primitive but very deadly weapons, especially at such close range. If you are to save your skin you had best salute the captain immediately.

If you choose to salute by touching your forehead, turn to 193.

If you choose to salute by raising your hand, palm outwards, turn to 60.

If you choose to salute by placing your hand across your chest, turn to 7.

Text copyright © 1987 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1987 Brian Williams.