First salvo

"There is no glory in battle. Only haunting memories and remorse. The rule is very simple. You must kill in order to survive. When it's all over, you pray to the Pillars for forgiveness. "
Margrave Otho in Manus Dei codex.

He led most of the Flock, back to the village, if you could call it that, a days away from Bottleggers' Pier, his men had found. Quietly nestled along one of the river's curve in the morning light he saw a few men fishing and women tending to animals and fires. As reports suggested similar to the Plains People, they lived in tents made of the tanned skins of caribou and deer. Sir Zane had told him that these were not the nomadic tribes they were declaring war on but their culture was influenced by the Odsier. Likely some minor tribe that generations ago had decided to settle and forego the annual migrations. He estimated around 30 people.

A company of his footmen were already in position, flanking the hills overseeing the path that lead to the village. The company was supported by a squad of riders entrusted with riding down any natives that managed to flee the upcoming attack.

Margrave Otho signalled to his silent lieutenant to pass the order to attack, and his men moved on the unsuspecting sleeping village. From his vantage point hear saw the Flock move like a grip, in a pincer formation, rushing the tents. Soon he heard shouts from behind the tents. Horse hooves pounded. A score of natives emerged from their homes. Surprised. Holding crude spears and axes trying to rush their attackers

The Purger ran his fingers through the handles of his morningstars, feling the cold link of the chains under his hand. He saw lances take some men in the back, driving them down into the dust. Unarmed, some natives tried to flee, but the Flock of Silence had now completed the encirclement.

The horses trampled men and women. Swords swung down. In furious silence the Flock killed. Two warriors closed in on the leader of the raid. He watched, wondering which of them would reach the man first. One gripped a spear, angled up to take his soldier in the face The other held his wide-bladed knife high, ready for a downward chop. In their faces he saw flushed rage and panic and was surprised at the humanity of the expression. Savages nonetheless appeared to have feelings it seemed.

When they were both but moments away, arrows thudded into their painted chests. Reeling, both men toppled to the dust. Margrave turned to see a score of his own archers advancing in formation, the front line kneeling to reload while the second line slipped a few paces ahead, took aim, then as one loosed arrows into the panicking natives. Animals and men screamed in pain.

Sir Zane had not been happy that the Purger and his men had gone on a mission ahead of schedule. But he needed not worry. No one would escape this engagement. Only those Margrave deemed useful would survive. He had much to learn about this natives and their ways. And once he was done with the prisoners he would flail their heathens skins slowly as he brought the salvation of the Pillars to their savage souls...