Captain Ravadal ducked behind a fallen log, signalling to his men to get down. He watched the Nocoelean reavers moving through the dense forest along the narrow woodland track towards them. They were worshippers of foul debased gods and their very presence in the King’s blessed Kingdom of Truceval was a defilement of all that was just and true and a sin against their righteous and holy Celestial Pantheon. The reaver’s weapons and helms were rusted, their clothes stained and ripped and their boots were caked in mud and dirt. Each of the Nocoelean warriors was lean and muscular and covered in idolatrous tattoos whilst twisted sigils hung from their necks on cords of sinew.
Ravadal had encountered many such war parties in his time serving as a ranger captain in the Kingdom of Truceval’s army as he patrolled the vast tracts of forest along the fractious Nocoelon border. In contrast to the reavers, he wore a thick green cloak that covered his well-cared-for, tightly fitted leather armour. At his waist, he wore a leather scabbard which held his short sword. He carried his bow and quiver across his back along with a pack of provisions. Like his rangers, he blended seamlessly in with the forest’s undergrowth. He counted the reavers and signalled seven to his rangers. To his right, crouched Caron and, beyond him, Torenl tried to conceal his massive frame behind the golden foliage that grew thickly over the log. His two-handed axe rested lightly in his large hands. On his left-hand side, Irege and Fuen knelt with their swords ready whilst Gaevn waited with his bow half drawn. Asheran, the zealous priest who had been assigned to Ravadal’s party, hunched behind the rangers and glared at him impatiently.
“We’ll wait until they’re right in front of us and then we’ll remove their blight from the King’s kingdom,” Ravadal whispered.
“We should let them pass and continue on over the border. The King himself has commanded us to retrieve the scared staff of our Arch Deacon,” Asheran hissed before adding, “Pantheon guard his departed soul.”
Ravadal looked at Asheran. The priest remained distant even though he had travelled with his band for days. Ravadal could not help but wonder if his presence with his scouting party was required. He and his men could be trusted to retrieve the staff alone even if it was a holy relic. However, the priest had come to them shortly before they departed clutching papers demanding he accompany them. The papers bore the seal of the Celestial Priesthood’s Arch Bishop, who had assumed the late Arch Deacon’s role pending the election of the new head of the priesthood, and Ravadal did not have the authority to refuse the Arch Bishop’s orders.
“They can’t be allowed to defile the King’s Wood,” Ravadal replied.
“It is too big a risk. If we fail, we risk angering the Pantheon and bringing ruin to our realm,” Asheran retorted.
Ravadal glanced back towards the Nocoeleans, who were almost in line with their concealed position, before he responded. “If we let them pass, they will raid the outlying settlements and bring ruin to the people of our realm. It is our duty to protect them.” The captain signalled to his rangers to wait. They nodded their acknowledgement whilst Asheran shook his head in resignation.
They waited. They could hear the heavy footfalls of their quarry, hear their ragged breathing and the scrape of rusted iron on leather as they moved along the forest path in front of them.
“Now!” yelled Ravadal rising to his feet.
Gaevn was the first to stand and punched the lead warrior off his feet with the impact of his arrow. The rest of the band erupted from the undergrowth. Caron’s swift blade cut open the stomach of the warrior opposite him as Ravadal brought his blade down on the exposed neck of another reaver. Irege thrust his blade through the chest of one of the loathsome warriors whilst Fuen’s short sword raked across a raider’s throat in a spray of blood.
Torenl moved deceptively quick for a big man and he swung his massive axe effortlessly in an upward arc that ripped a warrior in two. Without pausing, he swept his axe towards the last reaver who, with a heartbeat longer to react, had begun to raise his own blade. The force of Torenl’s blow knocked the tattooed warrior onto the floor. Torenl raised his axe above his head and chopped powerfully downwards. With that, it was over.
Asheran stood back aghast. The rangers had fallen remorselessly and savagely upon their unsuspecting prey. The rangers began to haul the reavers up as they reached for the large iron nails in their pouches. One by one, they nailed the reavers to the trees. It was a stark warning to any raiders that followed. The priest shuddered. Not for the first time on this journey, Asheran clasped his star talisman. When the staff was in his hands, it would be worth it, he told himself as a flicker of greed and lust flashed in his eyes.
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