Private Tales Bandits in the fog.

[Robaire Fogbrooke]

Fogbrooke Village, The Spine

Robaire paced back and fourth along the short dock, his arms tucked behind his back and his posture board straight. His body language showed his apprehension, the community had been split on bringing in foreign aid - especially considering the sizeable damage it would do the treasury. Yet Lord Fogbrooke knew that without aid he and his five strong militia would not be able to stop the attacks which were increasing in intensity and frequency. So he had over ridden the will of his citizenry, the first time he had ever used the power of his position; it left a poor taste in the mouth for the noble in name only.

Standing some feet behind Robaire, lax and joking was the five members of the Fogbrooke Militia, four men and a woman - all human. They were moderately equipped, with unadorned breast plates and basic skull cap helmets being their only armor. Their weapons were of their own choosing, ranging from a standard arming sword to a bizarre looking wooden pole with a spiked wooden head connected at the end by a very short chain. Robaire gave them a long leash, they weren't an organized military unit and as much as he longed to lead a disciplined and organized infantry he knew the free spirited types which lived in the frontier town of Fogbrooke would never be the dazzling officers and soldiers he read about in his strategy books.

Despite their short comings they were a tenacious and steadfast bunch, loyal to Lord Robaire Fogbrooke alone and not even the village itself. For these five, Robaire was King of the Free Kingdom of Fogbrooke; not just a simple a village chief.

"Aztal, go patrol the north of the village with Hendricks - Barock, Capri and Soltun patrol the farms." Robaire suddenly called out, the woman known as Aztal acted first and led the burly looking Hendricks into the village. The three remaining men walked toward the farms directly ahead, all moved with purpose and pride; shedding the undisciplined image at a single command.

In truth Robaire knew no attacks were coming, the bandits had a pattern - at first they only came during new moons, attacking under the cover of complete darkness and using fires as a distraction to ransack a food store house or the like. Robaire had initially assumed it was another tribe of downtrodden orc runts run out from the greater Bhathairk region to the north by a more powerful tribe. It was not uncommon, and Robaire had trained his militia as a youth for the express purpose of seasonal orc culling.

But when a group of hunters never returned, their bodies found stripped bare in the woods and killed with the heavy bolts of a crossbow Robaire knew it was not orcs which had come upon his village. Steadily the attacks increased in frequency, but always at night - yet causalities remained minimal. It was the kidnapping of a three women from a farm house which had made Robaire choose to hire mercenaries.

He had no luck tracking them, their talent at covering their tracks above his own at tracking and the crossbow bolts left Robaire weary of haphazardly wandering into the woods. Crossbows were armor killers, weapons of expense wielded by trained men expecting a fight against heavy armored killers. They were not the weapons of mere bandits. Robaire did not know what was attacking his beloved village but the young Lord of Fogbrooke was not going to wait and find out.

The mercenaries could not arrive soon enough.

Brynneld Dingo Sir Tobias the Unbroken Selene

 

[Rowley Stone]

His ear was filled with the screams of panic from the other guards. In a matter of seconds have the unit was dead. Sharp pain in his left shoulder let him know that he had also been hit. He was currently nestled behind a rock with a young boy in noble finery and another soldier who likely did not have long for this world. The soldier still managed to speak

"How did they know we were here? Someone had to tell them."

Tobias did not have much time to think about the question when the young noble next to him did the dumbest thing he could have. He stood straight up yelling about paying any price for the 'bandits' to leave. The boy never got his answer as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in his throat. The boy fell to the ground lifeless next to Tobias-

Sir Tobias the Unbroken was startled from his sleep reaching out instinctively and grabbing the person that stood over him by the throat. Tobias opened his eyes to see the frightened appearance of a poor fisherman who looked like they had just soiled themselves.

The ex-knight quickly released his grip and apologized. He looked around as he remembered where he was. He had paid the fisherman to take him upriver to Fogbrooke. The ride had been relatively uneventful and a little relaxing, which was why Tobias had taken the chance to get some sleep. The man must have woken up because they were nearing the village, which he could now see up ahead.

Tobias moved to get up from his position and grunted in pain. Oh, he was gonna have a knot in his back for weeks with that one. Still, the older knight forced himself up as he grabbed his pack in one hand and his sword in the other.

When the boat finally made it to the dock, Tobias was quick to step off the boat and give the fisherman his pay. He knew that the man needed to leave quickly if he wished to make it back home before dusk. Sir Tobias turned to see some people on the dock.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the Lord of Fogbrooke? I heard there was a problem I could help with."

 

[Selene]

The greater raven arrived at Fogbrooke long before its owner did. Sprawling black wings caught a murky updraft, primary feathers splayed out like grasping hands. At first it circled high above the little village, but soon fell closer until its shadow was brushing the tops of roofs.

It chose one of the dock's wood pilings to land on. Wings half outstretched, chest feathers bristled out like a beard, the bird gave a low, rumbling caw to announce its presence. Then it settled in, smoothing out into a sleeker silhouette. The raven chattered its beak in a series of unintelligible clicks and tilted its head to look at the man on the dock and the boat dropping off another. A curious gleam shone yellow in its eye, needlepoints of light that couldn't have come from anywhere nearby.

Hopping one pile closer to the pair, it chattered again, as if it had something to say.

 

[Erland Karr]

Brynneld looked far more likely to be another bandit than a mercenary or shining Knight come to save the town. His cloak was dark and worn, his pack light and frayed around the edges. The only thing that marked his once illustrious career in the Allirian rangers was a fine, long handled sword that was slung across his back.

Only by walking into Fogbrooke so openly did his dispel any concerns that he had come to raid the town.

Approaching from the southern road, he rounded the empty fields and turned into the beaten track that led into the village proper.

He was called out by one of Robaire's militia, introduced himself and was sent further into the town to meet their leader.

 

[Hector]

At some point along the road Hector had become separated from the Captain of Dusk, Selene, and though he wore a brave face, dressed in his armor, shield strapped to his arm, and spear held firm as it rest against his shoulder, he would be lying if he said he did not feel slightly unnerved.

It was not that he feared combat, or, well, maybe he did fear live combat. Action that called for the taking of life. He had felled creatures, helped cleanse corrupted spirits. But this task was different from all of those.

A sound, high and above, crook and the chatter of beak. His eyes glanced up and he saw the Captain's greater raven, black wings spread wide, its shadow passed over him and he felt safer for it. If only a little. "Still wish she hadn't wandered off," but who was he to question the wisdom of Dusk. Fogbrooke soon came into view upon the road ahead, through the woods and upon the horizon.

He could see a tall man, cloaked and with sword upon his back, a guard, or what looked to be one, spoke to him, and they both ventured toward the village. "I best follow," Hecto said to himself, as he came out into the clear, his spear-head twinkled bright beneath the sun, as did the bits of armor that adorned his kit. He looked up to find the Captain's raven, but it was no where to be found. "Guess it went on ahead." He muttered to himself, and started toward the village center.

 

[Robaire Fogbrooke]

Only a single man stepped forth from the boat, and Robaire's heart sunk. He was a large and assuredly a great warrior by his bearing, but he was a single man! He approached and inquired, and Robaire stepped forward with a professional bow. "I am Robaire Fogbrooke, thank you for heeding our call for help." Robaire hid any disappointment at a single mercenary arriving with the trained professionalism of a politician. Robaire was about to speak when a unusually large raven suddenly called out - Robaire turned his head toward it quizzically. Raven were not uncommon in the region, but this one was larger; like most ravens its eyes shone with intelligence, but it seemed to have a purpose in it's outburst beyond the simple wild raven.

"Perhaps a herald of another guest to come?" Robaire said aloud, mostly to himself. So lost in the wonder of the large bird Robaire did not notice Soltun returning to the dock with a cloaked man alongside him. "This one says he is here to answer the call, My Lord. Looks strong, I'd say." Soltun then looked to Sir Tobias. "Bigger then Hendricks!" He suddenly called out, snapping Robaire from his fascination with the bird. Robaire wanted to chastise Soltun, but instead merely shook his head subtly. "Ah, another warrior! Thank you for coming in such a timely manner!" Robaire said to Byrnneld and bowed his head lightly as he did to Sir Tobias.

As Robaire raised his head he caught sight of Hector approaching from the village and waited for him to get closer. "I apologize for not having a greater welcome party for you all, but this is a dire matter. I am Lord Robaire Fogbrooke, and this is my humble frontier. A few weeks ago a group of bandits moved into the surrounding forests to the North, they are intelligent, meticulous and were it not for their thievery lacking a bandits sloppy character." Robaire reached into a bag at his hip and drew out a large eighteen inch long crossbow bolt, with a pyramid section head and a near 3/4" inch shaft - a knight killer, a bolt designed to punch through thick armor. "And they are suspiciously well equipped, this is only a guess but I believe they may be military deserters or mercenaries without work. " It was a rudimentary assumption, but it was all Robaire could imagine - why else would trained men attack Fogbrooke?

Robaire scanned the gathered mercenaries, gauging their reaction to seeing the armor slaying bolt and hearing his assumptions. Bandit killing was a common job for adventurers, but rarely was resistance of a trained unit expected - Robaire wanted to get a measure of their willingness, he did not intend to lead men into danger greater then what they felt prepared for.

 

[Rowley Stone]

Sir Tobias looked over the man that stepped forward to greet him. Yep, definitely the noble. They were always easy to spot out of a crowd. He did not look completely incompetent so that was always a good thing. If Tobias did notice the disappointment then he did not show it. He did not really care if they were worried about him or not. They all stopped talking when he solved the problem so that is what he would do.

The other mercenary that arrived looked like he could handle himself, so this might not be too annoying. Some people could only recognize a warrior when they had their weapon in their hand, but a true warrior was noticeable by the way they stood. The swift, but sure-footed steps, their center of balance, and the way they shifted weight, were the first signs of a good fighter. Tobias looked Brynneld over and nodded in approval.

The 'soldiers' that this lord led weren't bad themselves. There were not many of them and their weaponry wasn't standardized, so that meant they were going quality of quantity, which was rare for a small outpost village.

Tobias whistled in admiration when Fogbrooke displayed the crossbow bolt. "Hmm, not bad. That'll skewer someone right quick." He did not think he was going to have to get his armor patched up after this, but that was looking more likely.

"Any idea how many?"

 

[Selene]

The greater raven peered at the crossbow bolt curiously, tilting its head from one side to the other, so that both eyes could get a good look at it. Bobbing its head up and down and letting out a punctuated rumble at appropriate intervals, it seemed to listen intently to the lord of the village speak. The bird even cackled in agreement when the towering slab of a mercenary mentioned the skewering ability of the bolt. Then, it made its move.

Long wings made a soft shadow across the lord's back as the raven stirred to action. It launched itself the short distance off the wooden pillar and swooped straight for the village lord, aiming to snatch up the crossbow bolt he was holding with its grasping claws. A delicate strength guided its path, keen eyes and twisting wings careful not to disturb a single thread of the noble's oversized coat.

If this maneuver was successful, the raven would glide down to the dock planks a few feet in front of Robaire, playing with the weapon, trying to split the heavy wood with its heavier beak. If not, it would clamor back to its perch on the piling, protesting loudly all the way.

 

[Erland Karr]

"How well equipped?" Bryn asked. "That's a heavy looking bolt and men who can afford plate armor don't tend to go deserting. They go back to the Lords and Ladies and the lands they own."

It didn't change the situation all that much, he decided in quiet reflection. Some hardened men from the front lines with spears and chain mail were just as dangerous to the town as a group of spoiled young men more accustomed to running down fleeing soldiers from horse back.

"Have you given thought to digging ditches and raising palisades around the town? It's hard work, but they might go and find someone easier to pick on."

He was a ranger by trade, not a builder. If they didn't know the size and composition of the bandits in the woods then he was certain he could at least track them down.

 

[Hector]

Hector stared wide eyed at the Raven as it tried to snatch up the bolt, and he listened intently to the other warriors. They answered with more questions, the same sort he would have asked, only they did not wait, they did not hesitate. So, he stood back, spear rested against his shoulder, and listened to those older than himself ply the young lord for information, and his gloved hand gave a squeeze to the wood shaft of the polearm.

The young squire had a feeling he would learn more than a thing or two in this outing. He only hoped he had the mettle to make it back to tell the tale.

 

[Robaire Fogbrooke]

Robaire had been mulling over a response when the raven suddenly acted - swooping into his view and snatching the bolt from his unprepared hand. It landed nearby, picking at the deadly instrument with gusto; Robaire stifled a laugh and turned back to the matter at hand.

'Any idea how many?'; an important question, and unfortunately one Robaire did not have a answer to. "Their numbers are a guess at best, but from their tracks and the fact they haven't just razed the village my best guess is between a dozen and two dozen." Robaire kept his voice impartial, trying his best to sound factual with what was at best conjecture and at worst wishful thinking.

'How well equipped?' This question was one Robaire had a better handle on. "They have no cavalry or pack animals of any kind, they move on foot and are wearing light infantry equipment. Gambesons and chainmail mostly. One of hunters says he also saw a lone man wearing a breastplate wandering the woods about three weeks before the attack began, but there is no evidence he is still in the area and was likely just a lone adventurer." Robaire's cadence and mannerisms suggested extreme confidence in these details, if there was one thing he was certain of about these bandits it was their over all equipment. "Their weapons are uniform as well, each man carries a large crossbow and a short cutting dusack and buckler at their hip line. Interesting all their metal equipment is black lacquered and all their fabric and leather goods are black. They essentially vanish at night fall." Robaire gauged the reactions of those gathered at these details - uniform equipment with a purpose built coloration suggested trained, organized and coordinated men.

'Have you given thought to digging ditches and raising palisades around the town? It's hard work, but they might go and find someone easier to pick on.' Robaire nodded along to this question, it was one his own people had suggested once the magnitude of the attacks became clear. "That was orginally going to be my response, but unfortunately they have kidnapped three of my female citizens and have begun targeting our logging and hunting operations. Our forestry industry is our life blood, and we have little live stock and thus rely on hunters for meat. Hiding behind walls and hoping they leave might work, but if it doesn't...." Robaire hesitated. "Then my people will starve to death." He finished, reflecting on the dire gravity of the situation his first crisis in office presented.

The somber mood set, Robaire looked to each mercenary gathered. He hoped the rag tag group and his own militia would be enough, but it wouldn't matter without a plan. "This is the totality of my information, I have some idea of their location but not an exact spot. I am open to suggestions, plans or input." Robaire bowed his head slightly, while he was a Noble by birth he lacked their manner or arrogance and willingly differed or took suggestion whenever he could.

Spoiler: OOC

Apologize for the delay, work has been a chore of putting out fires left and right. I wanted to expand this post with a 'bandit perspective' portion, but knew if I didn't get this post out now it would be another week! Also forgive any weird prose, grammar or wording choices; I wrote this on my phone.

 

[Rowley Stone]

Tobias nodded while he listened to all the information at hand. The odds weren't perfect, but he could make do with this. "It would be a good start to get a better confirmation on the numbers of the group. Maybe send the bird." The old warrior offered a glance to the active raven.

He was more accustomed to a more formalized fighting style, but judging from the description of the enemy and the layout of Fogbrooke's own men, that was unlikely to happen.

"It'll have to be in the day. The black clothing makes it seem like the bandits would prefer the night...Not really one for that type of fighting. We can take them out a little at a time, or get them all in one big spot. The second option would be quicker."

 

[Selene]

The bird squawked something awful at its being mentioned. Glossy dark wings rose up above the heads of the gathered mercenaries, crossbow bolt still clutched in a claw. In a tricky play of acrobatics, it mimed being shot, lodging the bolt under one wing and plummeting to the ground, motionless.

The bird fell into the hands of a dark robed woman approaching the gathering. Shaking her head softly, she smirked down at the massive raven before looking up to address the gentleman who had suggested a day raid. "You may have noticed, that this bird is black, too." She moved and spoke as if she had always been there, though she was still walking their way. "She would not last long in the daylight, with our adversaries equipped so."

The raven in question righted itself and hopped onto Selene's shoulders. It gave one last indignant caw before smoothing its wings down and settling in for the ride. Selene stopped in front of the lord of the village, and held out the crossbow bolt, balancing it between her fingers.

"The indefensible nature of your village may be a boon yet, my lord. These bandits should be confident by now that their strategy works. They have not changed their methods since the attacks begun, correct? Use that to your advantage." She place the bolt back into his hand, and looked intently into the young lord's eyes. "Pick the next target for them, and we will wait, hidden and at the ready. Let them expose their own hides."

There was a pause as if she was going to say more, but instead of continuing, Selene suddenly deflated. She put her weight onto her heels and lost about an inch of height. I might have overdone it, she thought to herself. She was used to playing the warrior-advisor, but this was not her monastery, and these were not her knights.

"Just a thought," She said much more casually. With a rustling of her robes, she stepped away, coming to stand next to Hector who had so wisely picked a spot further towards the back of the lineup.

 

[Erland Karr]

Brynneld nodded slowly at the thought of setting a trap.

"They will come at night, but won't be any wiser unless they're watching us right now," he said. That was a sobering throught. Bryn cast his eyes across the treeline.

"If they are a trained skirmishing unit it will not be easy to find them in the woods," he said. "Not enough people to comb them. I could find them, but it could take days and days."

It was remarkable how little space a group could take up in the woods when hiding. He had hidden an entire company of rangers in the woods once to ambush a convoy of goblins. Their scouts had come within meters of their hides and hadn't seen them.

 

[Hector]

Captain Selene came like a mist, sudden and whence the temperature was right. Hector stood straighter and at attention in her wake, and pound his chest in salute as he gave a bow of his head. "Captain!" he let out, a little too loud. He hoped the others had not noticed.

The man with the air of the wild about him seemed to speak in favor of the Captain's suggestion, and it was enough to remind Hector to ease up some. He had a feeling there would be plenty of time for anxiety once the fighting came. Though having the Captain settle near him didn't help still his heart much.

While she was smaller than he, and by good measure, her sparkling robes and manner in which she carried herself always made her seem so much large in his eye. The great raven perched upon her shoulder also helped.

"Caution runs far from wolves who hunger," Hector said aloud. An old adage shared at the Monastery.

 

[Robaire Fogbrooke]

Robaire did not bat an eye at the arrival of the bird's owner, it's intelligence and comfort around people made it obvious it had a master. The woman carried herself elegantly, and her suggestion was one well thought out; a glance at the rest of the gathered warriors gave the impression everyone agreed with her plan or at least found it a reasonable choice.

The man who looked like a ranger only further made it obvious hunting them in the vast wood was a fools errand, ambush was the best of options.

"I am comfortable with that suggestion, and I have an easily desirable target in mind. My own home is rumored to contain vast wealth in it - I have been keeping steady patrols around it, but if I intentionally lax those patrols I have little doubt they would make for it." Robaire said, motioning toward his manor which stood like an iron fist lording over the small huts of the village; built of elegant stone and three stories in height.

"I should say now, those rumors are somewhat correct. My home holds the village treasury, it safe guards the wealth of every villager here and is more gathering hall then true lords manor. If they do get into our treasury, my village and my people will suffer greatly." Robaire had considered hiding the fact, but trust was something he would have to have for his new mercenaries or they would never be able to succeed.

"Allow me to give you a brief run down of the village, a tour if you would." Robaire said, leading those who would follow through the village and explaining it and it's layout eventually ending at the manor in question.

---

The rangers worries were not unfounded. Hidden at the tree line, blending in with moss and leaf sat a man whose eyes watched the small village with unmasked hunger. He saw the arrival of each mercenary, watched from a great distance their gathering at the docks.

Slowly he shifted deeper into the woods before breaking into a run once he was sure his movement would be hidden. He arrived at the hidden camp shockingly quickly, the bandits far closer then any villager imagined. His movement was not stopped by the various warriors mingling around the hidden camp.

He burst into the only tent in the camp, his eyes darting around looking for someone. "Boss! The Lord hired some mercs, by the look of um pretty skilled ones!" The scout declared.

"How many?" A voice said back.

The bandits were far better prepared then Robaire could ever know, and the nights that would follow would test his leadership.

Spoiler: OOC

Once again sorry for the slow posting! Wrote on phone, forgive grammar again as well! I managed to get a little of the bandit perspective here, even if I wanted more.