Taking a step forward towards the dark night beyond the cave, I snuff out the last embers of the abandoned campfire. Looking around at my lessers, I notice how all of them are mindful of the terrain we find ourselves in. Intentionally flooded terrace fields, with a rumbling thunderstorm rolling in from the end of the direction all the roads lead to. Yet, even with this oncoming, understood danger, there is no turning back for us.
The routes around this place are unknown, we could miss our target and give them time to escape. We'd be weakened through division when we could've struck with our full might. If our target values their life, they'd be taking cover in what shelter they can before the moving curtain of rainwater soaks them. A bolt of lightning strikes, outlining the endless hail of tiny but many dangers.
"Upper Ascendent." a fellow of mine goes as he approaches me with the rattle of his little armour, shield and weapons. I look his way as the frays on my cloak catch the first signs of our upcoming demise at nature's hand. Little drops that would barely leave my hand wet should I pass a touch over them.
"I hope you are not here to speak your doubts, I'd have better faith in your abilities, Lower." I remark just in case that the unlikely chance of a whine is what I will encounter. Be prepared for everything as well as you can be and you will never be surprised again. But, even then, that is a lie. One can always have their expectations crushed and torsioned apart into a paler wreck.
"The breath of wind has remained our way to follow the target. That which we were told is not guiding us here." he comments, right in time for the sky to open up with such a pale line of power.
"The mind often gets the better of us when we truly do not know what is out there." I tell him, recalling my stealth training from all that time ago. With our cloaks, plumes, shields and spears, we can deceive far more than simply hiding. A man is more scared of the thought of a monster than the gnashing teeth of one in torchlight.
"You do not worry that we have been misled?" he asks and I place my hand on his shoulder once my other hand has a good enough grip on my spear.
"I do not." I answer as my fingers dig in gently, shaking him slightly before I pat him as I start to move away.
"With all due respect, Upper Ascendent, we cannot sense anything that leaves our minds seeing only the noblest of metals."
"The presence of the foreigner assures me enough."
"How?"
I stop and turn, "The Lady-Heir, Einervaene Bosphama, has recently come out of a protective exile from the continent of Jherikra. If she has come back here, it is with the help of a witch or an army."
"The target is named!" the rest of us chant as my lower continues to seemingly doubt what we will find.
"What is the plan, then, Upper Ascendent?" the lower asks as his grip tightens, his already shaking nerves betraying his fear. Yet, I cannot blame him for such thoughts, we all know the circumstances of our mission. In such unfavourable land as well.
"We go forth and seek gold, any who may be protecting it will fall as well. Remember, your shields shall come back in hand, or with you on them!" I declare to my men as a harsh wind carries the storm's double-edged gift to the land. A distant farmhouse snuffs its light and a bolt strikes into a field far away. The entire land lights up as the currents fill out every litre like a new set of roots.
"In hand, or on them!" the men chant as I fill my lungs for one great calming breath. Although, my heart continues to defy the steadiness of my mind and I feel it thud so powerfully.
"HOOOOO!" I go.
"HAAAAAA!" the men roar.
"HOOOOO!" I go again, raising my spear.
"HAAAAAA!" the men roar a final time as they drum their shields in accordance to the demands of the thunder we shall be entering the ire of.
"IN HAND, OR ON IT!" I yell with all I have before leaping from the hill and splashing into the water. Catching much moisture on my cloak, it grows acceptably heavier and the splashes carry on with each bending of the knees. Charging through the terraces, my eyes widen behind the safety of my helmet as the storm picks up. Ever closer, ever more likely to maim and kill.
"HEY, GO THE OTH-" a traveller starts to scream before I pass by him with my shield on full display. The man prays desperately as I go on ahead into another field, its mud defecating my exposed foot as I intentionally slide. With the extra momentum, I move further down the road. Finding a usable rock, I go onto it, leaping for the next ones until I have a full view of the farms below and my men.
Spotting the light of a fire hidden within an old traveller's den, I silently motion my men towards it. A bolt of lightning comes for me and I redirect it in the direction of the cave. The barely visible shadow of struck-away rock appears and I carry on to a better vantage point. Sliding across the rock, briefly freeing it from the coat of rain soaking it, I strike my spear's base on it.
Rising tall and prepared, I focus my senses on those within the cave. Our best chance to strike is when they're on the move, where our numbers can break them apart. There is only a pair huddled around that fire and I cannot fathom more within such tight confines. They seem to travel heavy and the one so blatantly not of this land walks in a tomb.
Yet, as he stretches his leg, I catch a glint of gold...