Day 2 - Recovering

[Corporal Light]

Two hours later

Dear "Executioner Ballad,"
We request an audience with you as soon as you are able at the city of Minas Tirith. It is the mountain city, and the one you probably passed by on the way to the Colosseum. Find the Barley-Shoppe within Minas Tirith. Order a drink there under the tab "Percival La'Seer" and follow the directions given by the bartender.
Signed,
A friend.

Ballad tossed that note aside a long while ago. He grimaced at the thought of reading those words written down so exquisitely again. Now that he thought about it a bit more, he remembered that the blackened words 'A friend' were running down the parchment and onto his green coat by the time he tossed it into a mud puddle that he stepped in a few moments beforehand. He smirked behind his red-scarf as he continued trudging through the countryside of Camelot.

The weather got a lot worse since he was outside. Giant, dark clouds had formed within the normally clear blue sky from the direction of the Colosseum. Rain pummeled the flat-lands, which turned the dusty roads into complete mud pits. A loud pattering cacophony of noise rocked the grasslands, only silenced by the deafening sound of thunder and the spectacle of bright lightning. The constant rainwater flooded most of the areas with grass in it, though not enough to restrict travel completely. It DID do enough damage to make carriage travel damn near impossible, and travel by foot really hard as well.

Too bad Ballad didn't know about this horrid weather earlier, else he wouldn't have even tried to take a long walking trip to Minas Tirith. As it stands, though, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Or, in his case, between continuing through this shit or giving up and going back.

Ballad continued forward as he relayed his thoughts through his own mouth, albeit slower thanks to his injuries. His attire was absolutely drenched, the bottom of his coat dripping water onto the sludge he was plodding through. His black winter boots grew caked with crap each time he took a step, combining with the pure white part of his shoes that Ballad suspected was now a permanent part of his snow shoes. Thank fucking god the rain wasn't touching his revolver. He didn't want to know what rain could do to a gun that worked on sensitive, highly flammable wick. He got his revolver back from a nice young lady who was holding them for him. He was still reeling from his encounter with the stupid ass doctors at the time, so the lady must've been trying to not piss him off any further. She did a damn good job, as he didn't strangle her for what he went through in that infirmary.

"Can't fucking believe it's raining out here," grumbled Ballad, his head lowered to face the ground in a brooding fashion, "it's going to take fucking hours to get to Minas Tirith if this shit doesn't let up. Maybe I should turn back. This shit is just going to leave me covered in mud by the time it ends."

He was about to turn around and head back to the Colosseum when another thought entered his head. True, this is going to take forever, but what choice do I really have? If I go back to the Colosseum, chances are I'll have to go back to those retarded doctors.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he rotated back to where he was facing prior, only to bellow in surprise and anger as a gust of wind blows into him, nearly causing him to fall down onto his back. Looking up towards the thunder clouds, he angrily shouts "Can you fucking stop doing that already?! It's hard enough to travel through this mud-slop without you trying to make me land in it! NOW FUCK OFF!"

Ballad tightened the grip on his torso as he kept moving forward, occasionally stomping into a mud puddle, which only served to provide further blemishes to his attire, with a curse following it up. "Why the fuck can't this weather just end so I don't HAVE to keep moving forward," he snarled, "It's like the infirmary all over again! Me having to do something because someone else is forcing me to do it. This is such bullshit..."

Meanwhile...

News of "Executioner Ballad's" defeat by Adam Gaite spread rather quickly throughout Camelot. Most civilians were heavily disappointed, with several comments on OmniTwitter expressing their adversity while others requested a rematch. Only a select few were satisfied with the results, and they were labeled as "trolls" or "idiots" among the general public.