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"—Yeah, some foul play there boss. One of the new guys was going round, sharing powder - cozying up to everyone. All that took ain't feelin good. Don't think they—"
"And you didn't stop them!" Arlon can almost see red. His second in command shrinks back faced with his imposing figure.
"Sorry boss, we– "
"Enough!" Looking back to where he left his team - to have an urgent talk with this moron, he can hear one or two having some issues catching their breath. They were trying to hide it in front of him, but now when he pays attention, something is clearly wrong. "When I find out the one responsible for this mess, I'm going to rip their legs off! —Shit." Can't even leave them for single evening without having at least one, fuck something up.
"How many?" He barks the question.
"I- I've only checked with two other teams boss, but— most are likely out."
Such a great target is now going to slip right past them, because his men couldn't hold themselves from once again proving how worthless they are. "The raid is off... Gather this trash and pull back, have that lazy fool Reggie look at them... And find me the bastard who did this!"
-Wait a minute, 'a new guy' going around sharing..?
" Aye boss, will make sure—"
The response is cut short, as suddenly a cry of a certain night predator can be heard in this dark, wet forest near the river - it howls three times. A signal... their signal for a full out attack.
"Who the fuck called for the—!" He spins away from the guy, trying and find the source of the call.
*Warrrgh! *Waaaag! Two rage filled and very eager roars tear through the silent forest together with the sound of trampled foliage, as two massive figures charge through the nearby underbrush.
-No! Those two idiots!
"Stop! Fall back!" But his shout is lost in the commotion that broke out immediately after that savage battlecry.
Confused shouts and cursing from the various hiding teams can be heard, some weak and hushed, others protesting loudly - chaos soon follows as half of the band can't decide what to do... But he trained them well and without mercy; not to ask stupid questions and follow orders - so they did.
—they've been had.
"You, with me! I need to see what the fuck is going on." Then he turns to the rest of his still waiting team - they are aware the order didn't come from him, waiting for instructions. "-And the rest of you sorry bastards, go wrangle up those cretins!" He roars at them and runs to the clearing.
-Someone is going to pay for this!
In a heart-beat he is running towards the clearing, as those that were with him spread out to carry his order.
Getting closer, Arlon is suddenly half blinded by a bright orange flare that burst into light over the river. While trying to blink away the afterglow, soon he can hear arrows and bolts flying— then came cursing and the screams of pain, as the projectiles find their targets with a sickening *thump! of pierced flesh.
He is familiar with the spell; ordered its use many times in the past, to light up the night battlefields - this close up the radiance is blinding. -They have a battle mage in the caravan. In the corner of his eye, a titanic figure emerges - glowing with blue light in the sharp shadows cast by the magic.
The earth shook as the giant took a step to meet the charge of his favorite pets - their green frames don't look so big anymore.
——
-What manner of creature howls like that? A really bizarre sound. I can't help but wonder as Marcus' signal sounds from up ahead in the woods, marking the start of our plan. Everyone was ready and in position.
The young bandit called it a Night Stalker, and it was supposed to cry three times for what we had in mind. Our mercenary guards seemed to know what he meant, but I've never heard it before - and I've spent several months living around this area.
It worked and from what I can sense, most of the bandits followed the command; running through the wet forest towards our positions.
Reggie - was that the guy's name? Spilled the beans and gave out their codes and calls the instant Caroline put a dagger to his throat. There was no need to even bother with torture after Angie beat the moron with a bucket and slapped the living shit out of him, 'for how much he worried his mother' - her youngest sister, after disappearing from the town few months ago. The bear of an innkeeper, preparing a heavy leather belt in the back, likely helped motivate him even more than the cold steel at his neck - if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.
From what I gathered from his excuses - coming out between the slaps of his angry old aunt; the moron got tangled up with some bad company and they had to run from Carvell after some stunt they pulled out. One of the guys from the gang led them to join the band of some guy named Arlon, that apparently ruled the area and was the leader of the biggest bandit group in the marshlands.
—Anyway. With the moron tied up and under guard, a plan was soon formed - there was no time for drama. Everyone pretended it was time to finally rest for the night, putting out most of the light, while Marcus sneaked out back under the trees. In silence we waited for the signal.
-Well it's time.
After my nod - likely unnecessary after the loud battlecry and the commotion that sounded ahead, Caroline cast a pretty interesting spell that lit up the area; a bright flare cast over the camp made it look as if morning came early, exposing and blinding the bandits that emerged from all around the bushes at the edge of the clearing - some 30 meters away from the line of carts. Sitting ducks for all the people who were just waiting for a target.
That's when I've got my first glance at the infamous orcs - those sure look menacing. Big boys, maybe 2,5 meter tall and green skinned; the pair holds big axes in arms thick like tree trunks - and they are charging at us fast, ahead of the rest of the scum. I saw each earn a bolt from a crossbow, but that didn't seem to faze them.
With a prompt through the rod, and pushing more mana into the heart, our own giant lit up and went to intercept the blind charge of the green-skins. The earth shook, making many enemies stumble; some of the defenders also cried out in fear when the carts were rattled by the elemental's magic.
The arrows kept flying from our positions, and the first orc was met with a giant fist of stone that sent it flying back towards the trees. It managed to parry with its two handed weapon, but I'm not expecting it came out unscathed from the blow. The hit alerted the second one though, and the dual-wielding savage managed to avoid being pummeled into the ground when the golem brought down its arms in a follow up.
Shaking its head and blinking fast to get himself rid of the blinding effect of the Flare the—
> Orc (10), Ravager (14).
–The hide wearing orc ravager raised those twin axes to strike at his opponent, not a slightest hint of fear in the face of the towering mass of earth and stone. I can feel a skill activate.
-Interesting, those guys have a status more similar to monsters - or demons, than what I saw in most people I've met thus far.
It ducks under another swing, and with a loud roar delivers a devastating blow that actually managed to gauge a big piece out of the elemental's leg. That's when its luck ran out; fresh earth moved to fill in the gash left by the orc's axe, and at the same time green beast found itself sinking into the damp soil - suddenly immobilized it could only try to block the returning arm of stone.
The following punch was accompanied by a silent grunt and a load *crack! of breaking bones; the crazy bastard got uprooted and flung far away, where it collided with a pair of stunned bandits that were trying to get up from the ground after the earlier shake. It still admirably manged to hold on to one of its weapons.
All over the clearing you can hear shouts of pain and heavy cursing, as the would be attackers scramble blindly for cover; the small shrubs growing here offer very little protection though.
We watch all this happen, sitting in our normal form by one of the chained carts. I was nice enough to shield the camp with wind magic, from the few arrows that were loosened our way from the tree line - most were horribly off anyway. Not all bandits charged at us blindly after the signal; many of those avoided the blinding display of Caroline's magic, and are now trying to shoot back with shaky hands.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
—And that's when she started flinging Firebolts into the confused ragtag bunch, taking out the biggest threats. One of her spells was sent towards the first orc that surprisingly was already up, but it managed to dodge. -Damn those are tenacious, it is already charging back.
The golem started rampaging among the closest bandits, hammering them into the earth in explosions of gore, but at my prompt it turned to the furious-
> Orc (9), Outraider (11), Berserker (9).
-Damn, they also have multiple classes. Why the hell we only have one?
"—Fucking idiots! Worthless scum— retreat!"
That's when a very tall man in chain-mail shows up near the road and starts yelling for a retreat. The guy is built like a pro bodybuilder and carries a small round shield together with a long sword. —Well, we can't have that now. The whole idea behind this plan was to get them all, and not let a single bandit escape if possible.
He earned himself a firebolt from our resident witch for his trouble, but in an amazing display of skill he bashed it away with his shield.
I wonder what we should do, as I watch yet another ruffian flip back with a crossbow bolt in the eye - not like they forbid us from participating. A vial of acid from one of the gnomes smashed into the ravager as it tried to untangle himself from the bodies it landed on - the *howl of their pain echoed across the field when the caustic substance started melting through their flesh.
All this time Marcus was moving under the trees, and together with another guy from his group they were stealthily picking up those who decided to stay behind or couldn't join due to our earlier endeavor. Most of the ones that showed up were already down in the few moments since our ambush started — but the next move by whom I recognize as the likely leader we marked earlier, makes me reconsider.
Just as our golem was about to wreck the orc, the huge man jumped in with surprising speed; crossing the distance in a flash, he was in front of the incoming mass of rock and took its fist on his shield. Skill activated, and the resounding *gong! ended with the elemental staggering back.
-Note to self: don't judge the warrior types by what my Mana Sense tells me. Fair I suppose.
This guy might be trouble...
"Caroline, I'm heading out." She nods back at me, too busy burning people alive to ask questions.
——
Arlon is furious. His men - worthless as they are, are dropping like flies. He managed to save this green mongrel though.
"Urok, go grab—" he wasn't able to finish his sentence, a sudden sense of danger alarmed him of an incoming sneak attack.
Twisting around, his sword trances an upward arc and parries a spear that was aimed at his head from behind; a fast slash follows in an attempt to slice the wooden shaft in half, but the weapon is no longer there and he is forced to block a lightning fast jab with his shield.
The orc is laying on the ground, trying to stop the blood flowing out of its sliced throat - but it's pointless, the crimson fountain is gushing from between its thick fingers as the muscular neck was almost cut halfway through. -Shit.
The man that emerged from behind them, twirls the pole arm in dexterous hands and aims the butt of the spear at his knee. Arlon barely manages to free his foot from the damp soil grasping at him, just in time time to avoid getting hit.
"Damn, it really was you. When I've heard the name Arlon being thrown around - and then your description, I almost couldn't believe it."
The man in front of him looks familiar. -Those steel gray eyes. "Marcus, you bastard!"
Motherfucker makes some distance avoiding Arlon's stab, but he can't pursue; the *whoosh of a massive object moving fast through the air behind his back, and another spike of danger, makes him roll under a wide swing of the golem that already moved in on him. -This is pretty bad.
"Fate must be real after all, for us to meet like this." The old fuck is still as dangerous as ever, but keeps his distance as the earthen giant isn't done yet. A pair of massive arms comes down with a force on the spot he landed on; kicking the strangely behaving ground he is able to avoid being crushed when those boulder sized fists *slam! into the soil, causing an explosion of dirt to send him flying even further back and hit a tree.
Rolling back up he swats the spear away and faints a swing in an attempt to regain his footing - but the earth itself seems intent on tripping him down.
"Is that C.C. out there, throwing all this fire around?" He needs to buy himself some time. "She almost fucking fried me." Talk to break the tempo.
"To think you were still lurking in the kingdom. Give it up 'captain' and maybe they will hang you fast."
"Fuck yourself!" The bastard responsible for his dishonorable discharge dares to call him that! His anger threatens to overwhelm his reason. -Stop it, he is trying to provoke me.
"How about-" Suddenly a chill runs up his left leg, and Arlon is forced to dodge once again - as another magical attack almost caught him in a vice grip of growing ice crystals. -How many fucking mages are out here?
The air around him grows cold again - he jumps away but his arm gets immobilized as more ice suddenly covers it out of nowhere. With a flex of his muscle the thick, cold layer breaks off. His eyes land on another figure that showed up - and he wants to rage at the unfairness of the world, curse the gods.
Red, slim creature covered in writhing barbed tendrils, looks up at him from behind the giant's massive bulk. Black judging eyes drill into his soul.
-This is bullshit, a fucking demon!
That moment of distraction cost him dearly as a spears tip *rakes across his shoulder, causing the links of his armor to *snap! and break away. Despite his protection and last moment attempt at moving out of range, there is now a deep gush running across his arm.
-Fuck it.
And he triggers his strongest Skill.
——
-Wow, this guy is really slippery; despite everything he managed to dodge our sneak attack and then shrug off the follow up. Does he have eyes behind his back? Or maybe he can sense magic like a demon? He is definitely human - at least according to Identify... Very interesting set of classes though—
As the big man crouches down while looking hatefully in my direction, I can feel a Skill is about to activate in him; we are immediately ready to defend with Bark Guard— but instead of attacking, the guy zips away towards the road at great speed - each step sending dirt flying.
-The hell, he almost leaves afterimages behind!
Marcus throws his borrowed spear after him and half a heartbeat later my Spell Matrix activates, sending an instant fireball stored inside in a follow up. Yet, without even glancing back, the crazy bastard somersaults twisting in the air and dodges the projectile, then simply bashes my spell away with that small buckler, sending if off course without missing a step; a nearby tree *explodes! in flaming shrapnel that pelts the escaping bandit leader, but does little to stop him. He kicks the ground hard, almost flying behind the cover of the forest.
—What the fuck!?
My blink step is ready and I'm about to run after him, but Marcus just *sighs after seeing his spear miss - and then just stands there looking grim and tired; and I'm not going after the guy alone— he is dangerous. So while pulling in our vines, I look at the man with a raised brow in a silent question.
"Let's clean up here; then the kid can lead us to their hideout." Old veteran says as he goes to retrieve his weapon, not even bothering to explain.
"We are not going after him?" We are mildly curious about the emotions currently coming out of the old veteran, something weights heavily on his mind.
"Catching that rat when he decides to make break for it is no easy matter. But please go ahead if you can."
Nah... That man only picked up speed when he reached the road and was out of the elemental's reach, free of the Earth Magic grasping for him from below. -The fuck was that skill?
Also do you seriously think I will pass on looting their lair? Reggie will be leading us there after we deal with the remnant of the bandits. I've already sent the golem to where we could feel a few of them still hiding in the forest. The sooner we are done here - the sooner can get get to the bandits hoard.
And yeah, free their captives...
——
It didn't take us long to wipe out - or capture, the rest of the band. Many survivors dropped their weapons and surrendered -*tsk! It will be a pain to keep an eye on them. Our ex-soldiers can deal with that if they are so insistent on not killing captives; all five of them out of 38 that showed up.
According to the young Spirit Whisperer, two more members of their merry band should still be guarding the cave they took for a base - and it checks out with what we're picking up. Me, Caroline and two others went to secure the place with Reggie guiding us; such a helpful young man - everything he can do to avoid hanging. It took us only half an hour to reach this place, the band staying so close to the road says a lot about the current situation of the barony.
After he called for them - interrupting their fun, two bolts from our crossbows quickly finished the whole affair. Scum like this, taking advantage of the boss not being around to sample some 'wares' don't deserve the chance to surrender; Caroline wasn't so lenient this time around.
There are carts in here, a lot of stolen goods, foods and contraband. Our angry witch went to free and comfort the prisoners, while me with the two grim mercenaries started to load some of the more useful and valuable items on the recaptured vehicles - some still having arrows stuck in them.
...
Soon after the horses that the bandits also kept were harnessed, women and a pair of kids boarded the loaded wagons — giving only a passing glance to a black cat sitting on his share of loot; guarding it like a small dragon. -Ehem, well, we were promised some of this stuff for my help and I even had a first pick. Let's just get this over with. I don't like it here.
Like this our caravan grew by 9 more people, six horses, four carts and a carriage.
Reggie looks like he wants to hide in a deep hole and cry; Angie told him about what might have happened in Carvell where his folks were living - not to mention his fate isn't yet certain... It depends on what the women will say about his behavior while in the gang.
The only thing that didn't go according to plan was the leader escaping, but according to Marcus the man was able to avoid hanging twice already. There is some history between them.
——
Arlon was mad.
All his plans, everything he worked so hard for - gone.
Again.
Tired and bleeding, he makes his way towards his old safe-house hidden in the swamp. Not everything was lost, he squirreled away a nice sum in there - should be enough to lay low for a while, then go to Carvell and other surrounding towns to wrangle in some morons from the local gangs.
His smugglers are still operating as well, but without the strong arm part of their organization - that was the bandit group, they may struggle with keeping the territory. The other criminal elements will no doubt soon learn about this fucking disaster. -How did this even happen?!
The swamp is oddly quiet, as if not wanting to attract Arlon's ire when wrath fill his heart and he swears revenge.
"Fuck you Marcus, should have killed you when I had the chance all those years ago." Cursing under his breath, damning the man who for the second time already ruined his plans, he reaches for the hidden doors. "Next time we meet you will—"
*Gaah. *cough!
Instead of the promise of violence, dark blood leaves his mouth. Spilling over his chin, and down onto the enchanted chain-mail -What?
Looking down... a long, black, curved blade protrudes from his chest. His eyes widen with disbelieve.
*Cough *cough. He is choking on his own blood.
Grabbing weakly at the thing that pieced his defenses like they were wet paper, the edge slices right through the thick gauntlet. One of his fingers gone, cut cleanly off, falls down onto the moss covered ground - now red instead of green.
With a jerky movement of his neck, he manages to turn enough to chance a glance at the attacker. *Guh! The cold metal gets twisted inside his chest.
With dimming vision; instead of his killers eyes, Arlon can see the empty dark abysses staring back at him.
A whisper of death reaches his mind.
The skeletal face hidden under the black helmet tilts slowly to the side, almost as if surprised. Highly decorative, dark plate armor covering the bones seems to absorb all of the light now faintly coming from the east part of the sky.
The proud bandit won't be seeing this new dawn though. The black scimitar gets violently pulled out and more of his life-blood stains the doors leading to the hideout and the fast approaching ground.
Darkness overtakes him, and he can feel the cold grip of death.
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