At the break of dawn the mercenaries moved out. The ground dotted with miscellaneous items and burnt out campfires. The only indication that they had ever been there.
Toale was walking in a daze, his mind filled with the events of the past day.
“Who are you thinking about?” a laughing voice brought him out of his reverie. Bryan jogged as he caught up with Toale.
“Nothing, hows your arm?” Toale said.
“Hmm, it's just a flesh wound, it'll heal in a couple of days. That last blow was awesome, how did you even do that?”
Toale laughed awkwardly.
What last blow? I wasn't even awake for a last fucking blow.
Attempting to change the subject, Toale asked, “What do you think we’ll hunt this time?”
No way I’m letting him know that I wasn’t conscious when I beat him…
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“Lord Agave, please come this way.”
Tavak looked at disgust at the small man in front of him. Short, skinny and with shallow cheeks. He looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. His sunken eyes, however, hid a vicious and cunning glow.
Typical politician. Quickest way to get assassinated is to underestimate them.
Controlling his disgust for the subservient man in front of him, Tavak interrupted the long stream of praises that endlessly spewed from the scrawny mans mouth.
“City Lord, I’m sure you understand how grave this matter is. Forgive me for not accepting your invitation.”
“No problem My Lord. Haha, this one wishes to ask to what he owes this pleasure?”
Spineless relic of the Cutrens. A shame on his ancestors.
“City Lord, I require information on all personnel who have left for the Desolate. As for Knyg, I am confident that there will be no problem in your hands.”
“Ah, yes, yes, My Lord. The Knyg pass has been blockaded and sensory runic bearers have been spread along the mountain range.” The reedy voice constantly provoking Tavak, the City Lords habit of rubbing his palms not helping his disgust. “A decree has been issued imposing a ban on travel to the Desolate. However…” The City Lord hesitated.
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“City Lord is there a problem?”
“Forgive me My Lord, it seems that this useless old man wasn't fast enough with his actions. From yesterday morning till now, three bands have left for the Desolate.” The scrawny man submissively bowed his head causing Tavaks lips to further curl in revulsion. “Claw Union, Blade Camp and Silver Moon mercenary band.”
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The Desolate was a beautiful land. Filled to the brim with wildlife and all types of vegetation. The untouched land hid countless natural treasures. It was also a death trap for the inexperienced. The plains stretched endlessly to the west, with no records to any southern limit. The western Desolate was separated from the east by a treacherous mountain range, the same that split the Southern Urcan Empire and the Sheouqua Sultanate. The plains had no cover until the eaves of the Great Forest.
The grass here was a deep and verdant green, overflowing with vitality. The vibrant colours painted a picture of paradise, a sea of green stalks, soft to the touch and sweet to the taste. Within this sea of tranquility hid terrifying dangers. Constantly mutating Desolate demons spewed out of demonic rifts, born from the evil energy deep within the earth. The enemy to all humankind.
Oslem was acknowledged to be the settlement furthest into the wild lands, but they were not the furthest people. There were countless nomadic tribes that journeyed through the Desolate, their unique culture giving birth to terrifying warriors. There movements difficult to track and any military action against them by their northern neighbours had ended with disaster. Countless days being plagued by beasts, poisonous plants, raided by men that melted into the darkness had a funny way of destroying morale.
For the mercenaries of Oslem, this was truth of their life. Out of all the northerners, they had the most contact with the nomads, constantly trading for information, survival techniques and valuable goods.
Graveth set course for one of the local tribes. The periphery of the Desolate was not dangerous to the Silver Moon, but his planned path dug deep into the demonic beasts territory. To enter without a guide was mere folly.
“Sheart, order the men to move faster. We have no time.” Graveth said.
By his estimate, Knyg would have been blockaded by now and pursuers informed. However, there were no suitable regiments stationed locally capable of braving the Desolate and reaching them in such a short time. Call it a soldier's intuition, but he felt the need to cover as much distance as possible.
A cacophony of shouts indicated his orders being passed on as the speed of the company increased.
Graveth resolutely forged ahead.