The lightning came just often enough to ruin my nightvision but not often enough to see by. Every few seconds I brushed against a tree, stepped on a balance, kicked some damp leaves. I would have preferred not to leave so obvious a trail but when you're running for your life you tend to focus on speed over anything else.
Inbetween each roll of thunder I could hear the monks behind me, and while I couldn't understand what they were saying, I could at least tell they were gaining on me. It was their forest I was running through after all, it was to be expected they'd know how to get around it.
It all came to a head when I entered a clearing, and didn't have time to reach the other side before they would spot me. So I ran through the wet mud and got up onto a large boulder, what little good that would do me.
They approached, carefully, weapons drawn. I made peace with myself.
Then the lightning struck, spreading through the wet mud, knocking them all out, at least.
I'd have time to consider the implications later, but for now I just ran for it.
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