New and improved

“Where are they? They should have been here by now?” Twig whispered with a slight hint of annoyance to the hooded man next to him. “You have to be patient about this.” “You can’t expect things to go your way, especially with our circumstances,” Lenden replied as he continued to look down the worn dirt road, eyes fixed on anything traveling this way. The older man was right, Twig thought to himself. But waiting for several hours was getting to him, especially if it was in a tree covered with a camouflage tarp that smelled like piss. Twig thought he would see some action by going on this assignment. Instead, he was in a tree with one of his legs in between a branch, falling asleep occasionally as the commander ordered him to stay in place to avoid discovery. His first real mission was as dull as watching a pot of water boil; this only reminded him of his empty stomach, since it was his second day without a meal since rationing began. “You sure that they are coming this way? Maybe the information was wrong this time.” Insisted Twig as he was again waking up his legs with slight movements and trying to keep his balance. Landon sighed in annoyance, tired and losing his patience with this blue-eyed, skinny teenage boy. Although he had a lifetime of experience as a Ranger, Landon hated frequently receiving new recruits. But Twig was another story; the boy was too eager to prove himself to his liking. “Look, it was your idea to volunteer to come with the Commander on this ambush. Just be grateful that he let you come at all,” he said with a hint of anger. Twig knew better than to press on the older man anymore, or he was sure he would throw him from the tree branch if he continued pestering. The fall wouldn’t kill him; the pain would still be unpleasant. He decided to leave the man alone and searched the surrounding trees and brush for the others, but the darkening woods made it difficult since they had been told to remain hidden. After all, they are Rangers and keeping themselves hidden to avoid or strike at their foes was always how they did things. The area was untamed, with plenty of hiding places, but with cat-like eyes, he spotted a few groups since he knew what he was looking for, except for the Warden-Commander, who was in a different league from the rest of his brothers-in-arms.
A sudden tap on his back shoulder startled him and almost made him lose his balance as he grabbed onto the rough branch. “I see you two are enjoying each other's company,'' said another hooded man in a low tone. Twig didn't realize the commander was there, which made him glad he was on his side. Landon didn’t bother looking at his superior, remaining steadfast in his duty with his watchful eyes on the lonely road. “Nothing yet, sir; you think’in that they're going to try to travel through the forest at night?” he said, bringing up one of his hands to rub his eyes all to keep the grip of sleep from taking him. The Ranger officer looked down the old dirt road as if you could call it a road. It was a pathway through the forest that few people even took, let alone knew about, considering the dangers that came with it. Many rains flooded the road, washing away much of the dirt and causing significant disrepair and potholes. There was a little stonework scattered about from a futile attempt to make it more sustainable, but it wasn’t much, the natives didn’t take too kindly to outsiders building on their land. Even some roots from the trees nearby were beginning to grow over its edges as nature reconquered its lost lands from this attempt at civilization, trying to stake its claim. Connecting the south to the north through the forest was near impossible, with only a handful of these roads left. The risks were just too many, leaving them abandoned with only a few willing to journey through them, often being shady or desperate enough.
The ones that they were waiting for were the desperate kind. But for now, the old road remained barren; the only things they saw all day were a couple of deer and a boar, all too tempting to hunt as there was little to eat these days. But with the wagons coming through, they would have more food to feed the camp, or at least with proper rationing. They just had to relieve it from its current owners, without struggle, as they couldn't afford to take too many losses, their numbers had dwindled enough. Thier trap would ensure their success should it end in a struggle so long as they went this way if their spies were right.
“It’s possible, but even the imperials know it’s risky to travel this deep when the dark draws near.” He knew all too well that night was for all the worst beasts in the forest had to offer, hunting anything they could sink their teeth into. Nightfall was upon them as the light of day waned, and he wanted to leave before danger came with its all-consuming darkness. His countless ventures across these ancient woods were not all enjoyable; staying to experience them again only endangered the lives under his command.
“Um, Carne? Do you think we can leave soon before the sun sets, beca-” Twig said nervously and suddenly yelped in pain as Landon hit him on the back of the head with a club-like force. Landon always physically disciplined his subordinates for insubordination, claiming that pain was the most effective deterrent. He often did it until it got into their thick heads, making it clear to everyone no one was safe from his iron discipline. “How many times do I have to tell you, dumb boy, you either call your superior sir or by rank, not their name.” Said Landon with a low growl. Carne sighed at this old routine he really needed to get the old man to stop the senseless brutality, but Twig was right. At night, the forest was not where he and his men wanted to head back to Del Toren. Training can only take men so far, and death comes quickly in this wild place if they let their guard down.
He raised his hand, and they both stopped to listen to him. “I’ll scout ahead to see if they are coming. If not, we leave, but if they are, you’ll know the signal.” He said. They both pounded their chests, giving him their Ardanian officer's salute. He silently climbed down the rough tree bark to the green brush below. His thoughts plagued about what would happen if the supplies they needed did not arrive. Things were getting desperate enough for them, and the stranded refugees they harbored had little to go around.
Especially now, another frigid winter would be upon them in a short while if it should come early, like last season. The leaves' fiery colors began encroaching on the green branches, and a shivering chill in the air had arrived more often now. They needed to gather resources now more than ever. The forest’s foliage had always been their ally, but it would soon wither away, leaving them exposed to all that would do them harm. They could set ambushes in the cold, but prolonged exposure would sap their strength and risk its icy grip claiming the lives of his already exhausted men. The South did not experience harsh winters often, but they happened from time to time. But with their conditions, starvation would claim them long before the cold would. Their only hope was that the wagons would fix that for a while, or hunger would torment them another night.
As silent as the grave, he moved through the brush without a stir, slowly crouching as he pressed onwards, passing his fellow rangers who remained motionless as if they were a part of the scenery, waiting for their moment to pounce upon their unsuspecting prey like any hunter would. The only movement they showed was a slight nod while remaining composed as he passed swiftly by. Carne knew that his odds of being detected would drastically fall if he went by himself, and no one would spot him. His comrades sometimes had trouble finding him because of his unnatural ability to hide from everyone when he wanted to. But he always kept his long bow ready in case of any problem, with it close to his side and arrows neatly tied together in a worn brown quiver on his hip to lessen the noise they made.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the outskirts of the ambush site, where he sped up his pace. He didn't have the luxury of time, and there was little of that already; he’d better figure out if their target were even going to arrive as he smoothly dropped down to the thick foliage farther up the road to seek it out, his long bow gently placed beside him, ready to be used if required. The veil of night gently crept upon him, making it harder to find anything; his eyes were slowly adjusting to the change, and he was use to it anyway. Even though he knew better than relying only on his eyes, his other senses would aid him in his hunt. The Ranger slowly closed his eyes and let his body become one with the ground he lay upon. He could still hear many forest sounds: birds chirping, wind gently blowing through the greenery, and more. He tuned out each one to find what he wanted to hear most. Silence, profound enough to feel like death, consumed everything. Then, a faint sound, audible only to him, urgently broke the stillness and returned him to life. However, he was hoping for the sound of wagon wheels or horses. Instead, they were hooves breaking the silence, but it wasn’t that of a horse or even a deer since neither of them walked on their hind legs. The disturbance was coming no farther than four feet before him as the sound of grass and fallen leaves being stepped on kept his focus directly toward its origin. It did not seem to notice him as this unknown interloper casually went about its business, not even bothering to hide its presence. Unsurprisingly, he knew what it was and that its very presence could put them all in danger if it spotted them. But why it was here was something that he didn’t have time to find out at the moment, as trouble could arrive if it cried out to alert the rest of its herd nearby. With the utmost care, he quietly unsheathed his hunting knife from his belt, ready to draw blood should they come any closer to him. It would be too difficult to draw his sword in his position or his bow in such a confined space. The knife would be sufficient for this stealthy incursion. However, the kill would be quick and painless, it was the least he, as the interloper continued to walk closer to his hiding place without stopping, almost on top of him, as a pair of cloven hooves attached to long bovine legs was less than a foot away near his face. Slowly looking up, he could see amongst the shrubs a slightly obscure Satyr looking around wearing only a rugged loincloth around its waist. What little light glimmered in the dying hour revealed long brown wild hairs that continued to go up to its waist to its face that went in every direction on its body, oblivious of the danger hidden in front of it. In its left hand a worn wooden club that knew hardship over the years. Its gaze focused on its surroundings in search of something or someone as it used its nose to make loud sniffing of the air in Carne’s direction, which could be a problem as its senses were stronger than a Human, using them to learn of its surroundings for dangers. However, it would be impossible to pick up his scent being masked with dirt and other odors that keep him hidden. His dark green camouflage cloak added to his concealment, blending in with the forest floor as he played the part of the lush and condensed ground around him. It was clear that this would be an easy kill to make. He snatched one of its legs with a sudden burst of speed, springing from his hiding place. This caused the Satyr to lose its balance as he lifted its leg, and then he tackled the Satyr to the ground like a predator. Being disoriented from the surprise attack before realizing what was happening. Carne used his body to pin it to the cold ground, covering its mouth with his hand to ensure it didn’t call for help. The Satyr instinctively began to struggle to escape Carne’s grip, unable to free itself from the overwhelming weight pinning it to the ground, instead reaching out with a free arm to grab the club it dropped in the fall, being only inches out of reach, only to suddenly stop, fear overcoming its senses as it stiffened at the knife’s cold metal against its throat, ready to draw blood like any hunter going for the kill. Yet when the heat of the hunt ended, hesitation came to halt the instinct to kill at the sight of what he had captured.
Seeing what was before him, Carne hesitated to slide the blade across its exposed throat, surprised by the sight. Looking past its goat-like facial features, all he could see was a young child, or a kid in this case! Seeing the kid here by himself was strange as Beastmen kept their young close for protection. Yet it looked like it was prepared to go into battle, spiral war paint covering its fur and face. It appeared to be a young male who just reached puberty as his horns seemed to be growing, too small to have reached full size. He could see the fear in his goat-like eyes as he stared back with his own. He most certainly thought death was upon him at that moment, but Carne didn’t want to kill a child, he would never stoop to that level, let alone one barely of age even if it wasn’t human. Releasing him posed a problem. While a single satyr was not the most dangerous, they made up for it in their large numbers. He began calling back to his men in birdsong to at least warn them of the looming threat. A few moments later they responded the same, acknowledging the message, with silence returning. As he looked back to his captive, his ears began to hone as fresh sounds in the distance he was looking for, it was only that the situation was spiraling out of control as he heard the familiar sound of crunching horse hooves and grinding wagon wheels hitting the uneven road.
“Damn it all.” He cursed under his breath. The Satyr seemed to notice it too, his eyes beginning staring in the same direction as Carne’s. In a few moments, he could hear the wagons being pulled by two horses, each traveling up the road as they began to become louder and louder as they rode over anything in their way. He then saw something surprising on the moving wagons' side: an armed escort of many riders and foot soldiers marching alongside, maintaining a tight formation. He didn’t expect to see this for a simple supply caravan that only needed a few guards, meaning that the empire was facing desperation or there was value they were not risking to lose. From their armor and weaponry, they were not from the legions, mercenaries perhaps; it didn’t matter who they were at the moment, only that it would be more challenging to get these wagons now.
He had to return to the others to prepare for the ambush quickly to deal with this sudden change. Raising his free hand, he pointed his index finger at the satyr's face to silence him while removing the knife from his throat and releasing the satyr, realizing that remaining in the open would result in their deaths. It didn’t take a few moments for a sudden goat-like cry to come out of the kid’s mouth, only to be stopped as quickly as it began as the hilt of Carne’s knife swiftly hit the temple of his head, leaving it out cold on the grassy ground. He figured the kid would try to call for help; the young often did stupid things like that. He cautiously looked around to make sure no one heard it, everything remained unchanged, and it seemed that the trap would still go according to plan. He rose to a crouch to avoid being seen, retraced his steps, retrieved his bow, and carefully dragged the satyr with him, placing him in tall grass near the road to hide him. The Imperials would outright kill him should he be discovered, being alerted of possible dangers ahead, he was fortunate that he found him instead of them. His herd would find him unharmed as soon as the fighting was over, but finding a Beastman in this region still troubled him though. The Beastwood was quite the distance away, but it is not uncommon for them to migrate out of it when food was scarce, especially at times like these. Yet his instincts gnawed at him as he seemed to have overlooked something, pausing in movements to remember all he saw in the encounter, it was only then that he realized what was right in front of him, the Satyr was armed!
Satyrs have a passive nature, preferring to avoid violence most of the time, but when left with no other choice they would defend themselves, going on the warpath with relentless fury to protect their herd. It seems that they were not the only ones with a grudge against the empire as the young Saytr that he confronted was nothing more than a scout waiting for the same thing they were going after, the convoy! Hidden signs became clear as he hastily looked around him, abandoning his stealthy approach to warn his comrades. He was struck with stupidity to ignore his surroundings, being too focused on the convoy to even realize it before, some trees covered with deep scratches from horns and hoof imprints scattered about the ground in several places, at least three different types from the size and how deep the indentations they made in the soft ground under him. Two ambushes that were utterly oblivious to one another attacking the same target, resulting in a bloodbath for them. There was no way to avoid a confrontation with the Beastmen, being caught in the crossfire didn’t mean anything to them seeing that they considered all Humans their enemies. He swiftly made another birdsong with a sign of stress to it. Once it was heard, Rangers near him began to move from their concealed position to move out, passing the warning down the line to their comrades. When it reached Landon and Twig, the old veteran reacted much quicker than the inexperienced pup and got an arrow out of his quiver to ready his short bow, as he repositioned himself to stand up, rebalancing on the branch he was once sitting on.
“What is it?” Asked Twig with a nervous look. Lacking the understanding of why everyone was leaving their positions. “Trouble, that's what, and it's best we get out of here before we get caught in the middle,” Landon replied, grabbing a torn piece of blue cloth and tying it to the end of the arrow and, with a steady aim, fired it across fading light to the other side of the road where the others were positioned. The still treeline instantaneously came to life as movement across its lush greenery with revealing swarms of Rangers hurriedly retreating from their hidden positions. Landon was not too far behind as he climbed down the tree. “You wanted to see some action, boy; you asked for it, just not the stuff you wanted.” He warned as he was climbing down hastily despite his age. Landon’s words brought excitement and dread to the young Ranger’s stomach, feeling nauseous like one of the watered-down meals he had back at camp. He didn’t fully understand it, but if someone like Landon was booking it, it must mean they were in over their heads. Cursing under his breath, he began to follow him as best he could despite his legs not being fully awake, and he almost lost his grip while trying to climb down, instinctively latching onto the tree to regain his grip on the rough bark. Why was it always harder to get down from things instead of going up them, he thought to himself. As he planted his feet on the forest floor, Carne, Landon, and several other Rangers wearing various shaded cloaks of brown and green kneeled underneath the tree, talking urgently in their voices. Rushing over to understand the severity of their situation.
“What’s going on?” He asked. “Beastmen, that's what.” Replied Landon. The excitement was gone, and now the dread overcame him, and he could see it in the others, even from Landon and Carne. “What do we do then?” he asked .“The ambush is off, but were not leaving empty-handed,” said Carne. “There's a war party down the road from here, and we don’t have numbers right now.” “Anything that manages to break through belongs to us.” "What about the equipment?" said one of the other rangers. “Take only things that won’t slow you down, the rest doesn’t matter.” He looked towards the men in front of him with seriousness as he prepared to task them for their survival, “Fen and Torven, head over to the back of the line, tell them the situation and prepare for retrieval.” He said with haste in his voice.” A dark brown and light green cloaked Ranger hurried off as ordered, and both vanished like ghosts through the brush behind them. Carne looked toward Landon next for his experience was need to ensure that the men stayed in line, “Landon take Twig and Joff across the road to flank any stragglers the make it through, I’ll flank from this side for anything that comes this way.” It was a simple plan really, the only problem was someone needed to break throught the ambush to retrieve the goods. Landon gave a brief nodded and took his men as both groups repositioned themselves across the empty dirt road to attack and hopefully execute their escape route. In any other situation, they would have cut their losses, knowing all too well that the risk outweighed the reward, problem was that everything was risky now, there was no way to avoid it. Scavenging off a carcass of this bounty was life and death now.
Darmek was anxious when he heard the sound of horses coming near him. The towering Minotaur was lying low to the ground behind some bushes on one knee with a few of his herd brothers to avoid being seen by their own hulking sizes preparing to strike when the Humans were close enough to their position. At his sized was his over sized war hammer stationed on the ground as he clenched the handle in his iron grip in anticipation for the battle ahead. When one of the Satyr herds asked them to join them in their war party, he was a bit skeptical of the whole thing. He had known a few of them over the years, considering them only grass grazers that preferred to dance and mate with one another every chance they got. They were even from the Long Horn herd of all things, most of them preferred to make friends with the other herds rather than fight them for grazing ground. For them to actually go on the warpath seemed like something out of a ancient tale told by the elder Grey Horns.
They were drunkards most of the time on that wine they managed to make from wild berries. It was good stuff though too since they traded with his herd for food once in a while, a few pots worth could knock even a Minotaur off their feet if it was strong enough. But when he looked in their eyes, he could see anger and desperation mixed together, something that was rarely seen in their usually joyful mood. They spoke of how their people were beginning to starve, they had begun their seasonal migration in order to prepare for the cold season. However, when they reached their ancestral grazing ground, they found much of it picked clean. To their shock, human trespassers had taken their food without hesitation of the consequences, killing anyone of the Satyrs even came close to them. Most of the hairless rodents knew better to take from the herds, but to kill without hesitation was unheard of, the forest dwellers stayed away from them as much as possible, same with the ones that live in the open lands outside of the forest.
Both groups never resulted to bloodshed unless the herds or the packs trespassed on their lands. It was due this that both sides stayed where they belong. However, for many seasons now, men clad in metal from the north beyond the forest boundaries began to migrate to the south, in far greater numbers than he had seen in his life. The Humans rarely travel through the forest this way and just did as they pleased during their travel, stripping everything clean from the woodland that was of value and leaving nothing in return to bring new growth. Even his herd had fought some of these trespassers from time to time because of their arrogance. The Long Horns sought the strength of his herd, the Thunder Hooves, to stand a chance against their metal-clad men, considering they only had clubs and threw rocks at them. They, undeterred by the enemy's numbers and aggression, continued their southward movement.
Darmak did not know why this migration was continuing far longer than then it should, Many seasons before this, the northerners came by the thousands, all of them armed to the teeth as they went through it, only knowing that they were on their own warpath. He was not there to truly witness it all, but all he knew was that the Humans of the south clashed with them constantly. Even in this wild place, they called home they fought on as their blood covered the rich earth and their bodies feed the scavengers. In the time of the black sun, they fought with some of his herd to take some of their lives for trespassing on their lands. He had his shares of battles with many, but never did he think that such death could be possible between those of their own kind. It was all the more reason to stay away from them, so long as they keep their distance from his herd. Now those seasons have passed, and the fighting between north and south appears to have ended, but their migration continues, and their slights are no longer ignorable. His kin and countless other herds suffered bloodshed at their hands; worse, they scared off most animals, forcing Wulver packs from their hunting grounds in search of prey. As the leader of his herd, it was his duty to protect them and to do so was to join them in their fight with these trespassers. The Humans needed-, no had to be stopped, with the only language they knew, a show of strength. To be reminded why they never traveled through these wild lands. He didn't care how much blood he spilled; he would continue until the only remaining humans were their bones, scattered across the earth to warn others. This would come to pass, as s dozen of his finest warriors would join him in the charge in this ambush to crush their foes into dust beneath their hooves. They, however, were not the only ones to join them, as he looked to gaze upon several Centaurs standing high on a hill away from them posed to charge. How the Long Horns managed to convince them was beyond his reasoning, yet they were a welcomed sight, especially knowing that the Swift Winds Herd knew the dangers of their common enemy. Their archers would be of great aid in attacking them from a distance and their spearmen would ride down anyone in their path.
It had been ages since a war herd like this was seen together, and they would put it to good use with more than two hundred strong in total. “Be ready now my brothers, the time to strike is at hand,” he said to his brethren. Those around him were eager to strike as their foes began slowly passing by, unaware of their presence. When a Saytr pathfinder discovered a group of them coming by one of the abandoned pathways, they rallied together as soon as they could to strike at them. Their moving wooden huts were carried by dumb beasts and were filled with many useless trinkets, yet the possible food they held would be a great boon once it was divided to feed all herds present. It was fortunate for them that the Wulver were not invited, he never trusted those carnivorous savages at all, their hunger for meat would have just got in the way of everything. He wouldn't put it past them to eat some of them during the fighting or even take their fallen as payment. Not long before the warm season ended, they the Thunder Hooves’ grazing ground in the dead of night, only to be driven back into the darkness the emerged from, but not before claiming their prize in the form Darmek’s herdsmen with those slain being dragged away into the dark to be feasted their wolf like attackers. He vowed vengeance upon their attackers, however, that would be a debt to be paid later, as another was about to be repaid tenfold. All that was needed was the signal to . Strike down their foes as a Saytr scout up the road would begin their battle.
Yet many moments had passed with no signal given to begin as their enemies continued to travel on their way, not knowing their danger. “Come on, what taking them so long? They are right there in front of us.” said one of the Minotaurs next to him. “It is better to catch all of them than just some of them.” Darmak replied, “This will both be a show of force and a warning.” “ The Rats will learn to keep away from our lands and we will take what is rightfully ours as well, so be patient.” he said with a stirn look“ Your taste for blood will come soon enough. The other Minotaur nodded towards him and remained quite as he prepared for the signal to be given.. He could see many of the wooden huts go by with many of the metal-clad men alongside them. They did no seem much, yet they were armed to fight anything in their way, even with the Satyrs and the Centaurs beside them, There would be some losses on both sides, hopefully not too many of his herd brothers. The night’s arrival had helped them hide all the easier; while they would have trouble seeing in the dark, they had no trouble. Yet something seemed as if no signal was given, with every fleeting moment only ruining their plan the more they moved away. The ambush would fail to meet a decisive blow if they waited much longer. He didn’t put it behind him that some of them were drunk at the moment since they were not expecting to attack, but if that pathfinder were, he would make sure he paid for his incompetence by being crushed with his hammer. With every moment that passed, the caravan moved farther away with no change, which only made his anger grow with him just about to burst. He rose for his hiding spot, lifting his warhammer with both of his muscular arms, the time for waiting was over. “Damn those stupid goats,” he growled as he let out a mighty roar. His warriors followed his example, let out their battle cries, and charged down the hill together as they headed toward their goal. The Saytrs near Darmek were caught off guard by his actions, only to regain their bearings and begin to charge down, following the example of the Minotaurs. It did not take long for the entire hill to come alive as Beastmen started to spring out of the greenery as if they were a part of it. As they ran towards their destination with weapons drawn and cries of battle filling the once si down below, they were startled when they heard the roars and looked up at the Minotaurs coming down towards them. Some were stunned in place by the sudden appearance of the attackers, while others tried to run to their huts. It was futile as the first few to reach them were quickly cut down as they tried to raise their swords against them. As many of them tried to get into formation they soon heard yelling and what Many of the wagon’s drivers tried to get their startled horses under control and those who did began whipping their reins to urge them to forward as fast as they could. A group of the legionnaires managed to form a shield wall just as Darmak was about to reach them, hoping to hold him back. But then he raised his hammer, though made of stone and wood, it was as long as a full-grown man and the stone was larger than anything that any man could hold. With a vertical swing, the hammer shattered the legionary’s shield that was protecting their left flank and went crashing into him with a loud crack. The force sent him flying, along with a few of the men fighting next to him. The shield wall was all but gone and those remaining were dazed and trying to get back up. Darmak gave them no time as he raised his hammer high and brought it crashing down on one of them, who tried to use his rectangular shield to stop the blow. It only resulted in the shield shattering and blood and wood flying through the air as he let out another roar. The fighting around him soon covered much of the caravan.
Carne heard the fighting from down the road and prepared himself for anyone who managed to get out of that slaughter. Though they were not going to get as much as they were supposed to, it was better than nothing at least. In the way they have been living for the past few years, they might as well count their blessings when they got them. He and everyone with him were eager to get back home and the sooner they had ground between them and the Beastmen the better as they did not have the numbers or weaponry to face them. They were lucky enough that they weren’t spotted by them or things would have ended quite differently for them. The sound of several pairs of hooves and wheels coming their way, which surprised him a little, he figured one or two would escape the attack, but not this many. The Satyr that he encountered must have been in charge of starting the attack. He put that thought aside for now and readied himself for the grab, but he had to stop those horses first as they were going too fast to grab onto the wagons. As the first wagon drew near he let out a howl that almost matched the sound of a wolf and many of the other rangers joined him. The horses being already startled, once more stopped in their tracks stopping the wagons and all the ones behind it as they sprung from the bushes and descended upon them like a pack of wolves themselves.
The drivers were easy to dispatch as they were either thrown off before they realized what was happening or shot with arrows when they tried grabbing their weapons. Considering that the drivers were nothing more than hired support instead of the military made it all the easier to grab a hold of the wagons. But as Twig got into the back of one of the wagons, he was in for a surprise. As he entered he felt his legs fall from under him and hit the floor. “What in the hells?” he looked up to find himself surrounded by chained men and women that looked more frightened of him than he was of them. When he tried to get up, a young woman wrapped her arm shackles around his neck and began strangling him, while the others around him began grabbing at his weapons. He reacted by grabbing his danger and frantically trying to hold them back all the while struggling for air. Then Landon showed up with a few other rangers. They quickly drew their bows at them. “Let him go now or will start dropin ya.” He yelled at them. Everyone chained stopped what they were doing and the woman stopped giving Twig a moment to get out her stranglehold on him and began gasping for air.
Landon and the others pulled back their bows and drew their blades and got on. Though it was a little crowded for them, the wagon was large enough to fit at least twenty people and there were only twelve when they entered. Landon pulled Twig towards him to get away from them. “Thank you, sir,” he said with a rasp in his voice. In response to that, Landon just punched him in the head. “You idiot, you wait for us when clearing a vehicle or building, you should know that by now.” He was placed at the entrance of the cart rubbing his head. He then heard a twang near him and saw an arrow hitting a wooden beam of the wagon rather than the back of his head.
“Can we get the hells out of here, I don’t feel like dying right now.” He and Landon looked out to see a few Centaurs running at full speed at them and letting loose arrows at them. “Move out now,” Landon shouted and the wagon suddenly jolted as it moved with speed. Everyone else had seemed to have a head start on them while they were busy and were now trying to catch up with them. The Centaurs fired a few more shots at them but had given up chasing them as they got farther away from them. Instead, they began descending on the drivers that were still alive and mercilessly cutting them down as they fled. Twig just let out a sigh of relief when looked back out to see no one was chasing them, only seeing the woman who tried to strangle giving him a cold stare with her piercing blue eyes. Which made him awkwardly look away from her and look at Landon had a dagger to one of the chained men so he didn’t try to do anything funny with him. Things were tense throughout the wagon and no one seemed to be willing to talk.
Carne who was driving the head wagon had his mind elsewhere as things seem to be changing quite rapidly in the forest than ever before. The residents of the forest seemed to be taking matters into their own hands now and there would be consequences to these actions. If any survivors made it out of this, the empire would send more soldiers into Ardania to secure the region and the brotherhood already had enough to deal with. Who knows who else might decide to join in as well, the Forest Tribes? The Druids? Things were about to get interesting before the winter arrived. But that was not important now, the night was falling and these wagons had to reach Dra Toren without any more incidents. The wagons rode into the forest and slowly vanished with the coming dark.
Darmak gazed upon the aftermath of the attack with a grim look. Corpses of Beastmen and Humans had covered the road where they had fought and seemed to be quiet now as night had fallen since the battle ended. All the horses were either slaughtered or managed to escape. It did not matter to them, they had no use for animals. Though the estimated loss to their war party was lower than he anticipated, nonetheless it saddened him. He had lost four of his herd brethren to the fighting, and losing just one of them was one too many for him. The Satyrs seemed to have taken most of the losses though.
“ Malfo, if you're still alive, you better show yourself before I find you. He yelled. A few moments later, a Satyr who was going into his elderly years soon revealed himself to him. He had gashed on his right arm he was holding with his other hand. “What are you so angry about, you got what you wanted didn’t you.” He stared at him with annoyance in his eyes. “ Where was the signal you said you would give to attack, it did not come.” “ You have cost several of those wooden houses because of your mistake.” “Our mistake!” “ You were the one who charged the enemy so recklessly at the cost of my kin.” “You should have waited for it to arrive, you foolish bull.” Darmak let out a loud snort. “Foolish!” “You seem to be losing your mind, old goat if you think you can talk to me like that.” Both stared hard at one another as their anger seemed to be coming to a boil. A few members from both herds began to gather near leaders as if they knew a fight about to happen. This was an uneven match if there ever was one as the old Satyr was dwarfed by eight feet of pissed off muscle. The massive hammer covered in blood that he was holding was not helping him either. Of course, if Darmek wanted he would just tear his head off or gore with his horns if didn’t feel like crushing him.
“Enough of this bickering.” They both turned to see Vel’tru, the raid leader of the Centaurs standing before them. “What's done is done and there is no changing it, let us collect our dead and the bounty that was promised,” he said in a commanding voice. Both of them knew he was right, Centaurs were often the only ones that kept calm at times like these. Though it did not stop the tension they had. “Elder, we’ve found Juru.” said one of the Satyrs.
Malfo with a look of relief followed him, ignoring Darmek and their argument. Though he was not done with him yet and followed to speak his mind. Two Satyrs were carrying for what looked to be a kid that was barely the proper age to be fighting towards them. “You brought a calf to battle, this is no place for the young,” he said, shocked. “He was not going to fight, he was just in charge of signaling the attack.” Darmek looked at Juru carefully and could see that he was injured, which would explain why the signal was not given. “My boy, what happened to you?” said Malfo with a worried look on his face. Juru was shaking his head to remove the daze that was over him so he could remember what happened. “A Human took me by surprise before I could give the signal.” A muttering was heard from everyone around him. “You mean you were discovered by them,” said Darmek. If that happened he should be dead right now. “No, this one was different, he came from the other direction of the herd, he was surprised when it was coming too.” Darmek and Malgo looked at one another with concern. “ The young one speaks the truth, my warriors were chasing after the wagons that escaped when they were found.” “Another group of Humans came and threw off their riders before leaving them to die, '' said Vel’tru. Damak looked at him with a serious look. “What did they look like, Vel’tru?” “My warriors say they were all covered in cloaks that blended with the trees and they left as quickly as they came, not even bothered to fight them.”
Darmek concluded as he heard this. “ Those were the southern men they call rangers, it seems they were after the same thing we were.” One of his bulls spoke up. “How did they get by, we should have known that they were here then.” “Not if it was them, they are as silent as serpents and as crafty as foxes.” “They know the wilds as much as we do and knew where we were when they found the kid.” He finally placed his hammer down with a loud thud to the ground. “They just waited for us to do the fighting for them and take what they could before fleeing.” Though it was a sneaky move, he knew it was a smart one, and fighting them would not be easy at all. “How is he still alive then, he should have had his throat slit then.” Another Minotaur asked skeptically. Everyone waited for his answer. “I don’t know why I’m still breathing, He had me with his blade to my throat with the intent to kill on his face, but--.” He hesitated to try and explain. “ But what? Replied Darmek. “He hesitated when he saw me and let me go.” But I tried to call for help and then everything went black.” He rubbed the part of his head that was hit. “Anything else you can remember?” asked Malfo. He placed a hand on him “Yes, it was his eyes? “What about them?” They were, like a Wulver’s, yellow and with the power of a hunter behind them. Darmek began to laugh when he heard this. So, that Human still lives then, he thought to himself. “Do you know this Human chieftain?” one of the bulls asked. Everyone was now staring at him. “Let's just say, we have crossed paths before and I believe we’ll be seeing him again soon enough. He picked up his hammer and placed it over his shoulder and went through the group. “Let us not dwell on this now, there is loot to be divided, let us be done with it and leave.” “It's best not to stay out here when the night is still young.” Many heed these words as there are things that even a Beastmen did not want to cross at night as well. Darmek soon came upon a broken wagon to see what was inside and what he found looking back let out a scream that seemed to echo throughout the night.