After the Scouring - Alex’s Journal
So, as promised, the next installment of Alex’s journal, resuming in the woods above the bridge at Durweston, east of Blandford Forum…
As it turned out avoiding that detour was maybe a bad idea. We reached Durweston without anything particularly exciting happening and settled in for the night on the reasoning that it would be easier to cross the river in daylight rather than darkness. Everybody was being very polite about which watch they were going to take, so I nabbed first (means I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning!).
My wake up call the next morning was Jasper’s bloody great boot in my face. Personally I’m far more partial to a hot cup of coffee but, given that there were three dead people shambling up the hill towards our camp, I decided to let that pass. I’m starting to come round to the opinion that the dead these days really aren’t like they used to be. I mean, if you’re dead, surely it would be far politer to just lie down and rot rather than wandering around, stinking the place up and disturbing the well-earned sleep of honest, law-abiding (it’s been at least a week!) citizens! I contemplated trying to explain this to them, but they didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, so I figured it was probably best to let my sword do the explaining. My sword is good at explaining – it’s short and to the point! Today was no exception to that and I was my usual brilliant self (although possibly it would have been a better idea not to make the dead man’s head explode because then I wouldn’t have ended up with a mouthful of rotten brain – but don’t tell Jasper I said that!).
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