Shadows of the forest

JP Lucian, Winteroak and Bandorchu

Ostiarium, Forest

The night air was crisp and thick with the scent mud and wet earth as Malacost, Tarmen, and Alexis rode through the dense forest, their horses' hooves muffled by the blanket of fallen leaves and the first blankets of snow. The moonlight, pale and silvery, filtered through the naked towering trees, casting long shadows that danced with each movement. The group moved in near silence, their breaths visible in the chill as they followed the winding path that seemed to lead to the first area of interest in Alexis map. Yet, the forest around them seemed to swallow their animosity, leaving only the urgency of their mission and the looming threat of the clues they sought.

A bell before the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the forest gradually thinned, revealing the outlines of a clearing ahead. The riders slowed their pace, instinctively cautious as they neared their destination. One of the Craven Pack held up a hand, signaling for silence as they dismounted, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot the only sound breaking the early morning stillness. Ahead, at the edge of the forest, they saw it, a small enemy camp nestled in the open, its crude tents clustered together like a nest of vipers waiting to strike. The campfires were reduced to smoldering embers, casting a dim, flickering light over the sleeping forms of the enemy warriors. They spotted a few warriors, stalking the perimter of the camp, keeping an eye for any possible enemies, however they appeared either tired or overly confident no one would find them...

Crouched in the shadows, Alexis observed the scene, a slight frown on her features. While the Brotherhood assassins she had the displeasure of meeting so far certainly had not lacked self confidence, this seemed rather uncharacteristic. She couldn’t imagine it to be favourable for an assassin’s work to be careless of all things.

So, for now she would operate under the assumption that there was more going on here than met the eye. Wasn’t there always?
Besides, even [i]if[\i] that was them being careless, no reason to join them in such dangerous pastime.

She glanced at the rest of her group. The Craven Pack was, of course, well known for their particular expertise. Really, Alcuin fit right in. Or surpassed, most likely.

No tactics she personally enjoyed, but none she was a stranger to, either. She was a mercenary after all, not a valiant fairy tale knight. However, if this was going to go down the way she dreaded, she would still highly prefer to at the very least go up against someone who was actually awake to defend themself, and adjusted accordingly.

Then, she just waited.

Tarmen at first thought themselves rather lucky, finding their enemy so unawares and vulnerable. He had no real love for the Brotherhood and the sooner they were free of this character and his savage goons the better.
Gods, the day he looked at people just like his own and thought of them as "savage", it had come too soon.

He assumed they would have similar plans, either rushing the enemy to startle and flush them out or take out the guards to then kill those unaware of the danger surrounding them. Savage ways that were effective and needed here.
Something in his mind called for high caution however. These should be the same warriors that would rather burn alive than surrender, the same endless fanaticism that required equal madness to break, and yet here they acted like simple house dogs. Not even a worthy rides length from the city and so at ease. Something was wrong.

He looked to Alexis, if she held the same opinion she wasn't showing it, so he settled nearby to see if his gut would prove right once again.

Malacost scanned the encampment. He could easily spot the missmatch of styles and gear here and there. A black robe man leaning against a rock near a fire, an hulking barechested brute pacing the perimeter.
Clearly the first place of interest Alexis had lead them to seemed to be some of vanguard or staging camp for the attack on the city. Odonine and Brotherhood working together. He guessed around 20 in the camp. He fingered the hilt of his dagger licking his lips.

"This is your gig Slayer," his voice barely above a whisper but dripping with sarcasm. "What next?"

Oh? That was news to her. She had been asked to guide, not to lead.

Alexis watched the camp a little longer, to evaluate. With the Craven Pack, she assumed they might be able to take them out, despite the difference in numbers. But without notice? That was a different story. This was most likely not the only encampment of theirs, and there was no telling what they would do when they became aware of the attack. At the very least move.

Furthermore…
Alexis closed her eyes for just a moment and listened. Not to her surroundings, but within herself. No. What [i]she[\i] was looking for wasn’t here.

Opening her eyes back up again, she turned her gaze to the forest night, to where more of those landmarks lay.

‘Her gig’, aye?

“Get the bigger picture.”
She whispered back, and indicated with her head to retreat.