It was a windy, rainy day out. Liam hated the rain, especially cold rain like today's. He knew he should go back to camp, but camp was where those buffoons were. The mindless street thugs that joined him one by one. He had experience leading a troop of bandits from around ten years ago, he smiled, those were the bandits that had been like brothers to him not these useless street thugs, who's only motivation was money, and knew they couldn't get it outside of his leadership. He himself had started as a petty thief, his mother had gotten sick and his father was working for barely anything, so he stole to pay off the doctors and so called wise men. Day after day, bill after bill, the doctors required more and more, so he stole, traveling from village to village, and found people like him along the way. Slowly they became a large group of bandits and started raiding villages.This had gone on for seven years. Then his mom died, he was crushed and left the gang for a while. Shortly after his father lost his will to live, and died as well. Everything Liam had done was for nothing, the people killed, the villages burned, the money stolen for doctors that couldn't save his mother. When he went back to the bandit camp he had left, he found it destroyed and fresh graves everywhere, graves holding the only family he had left. The last family he had, gone. He started anew with a few pickpocket's here, a murderer there, until the group was a hundred strong, and had been so for two and a half years. Sure they had fought together and raided together, but he had no emotional attachment to these people, all that got you was pain. Every so often he needed to get away from them. Away from all the noise, they had become a nuance to the King now, and Liam was sure he would send soldiers after them soon. They were to loud, attacking larger villages and therefore more people escaped to report their activity. Liam cursed, it was only a matter of time. Liam knew he would have to get back, his men were like sheep without a leader, and might do something stupid.
He cursed as he turned around his horse. He hated the camp, and everyone in it but it was the only life he knew, although he wished he could step down and watch them crash and burn. But he was too smart for that, Liam knew that there was safety in numbers. Alone he couldn't take on a troop of the King's soldiers, but with a hundred other men he could. As he headed back to the camp he wondered if his parents wherever they were, could see what he'd become. Then shrugged off the thought, his parents were dead, and he had to pick his own rode, alone. The bandit camp was hidden in The Great Woods near the Kingdom's border, and the woods extended though half the Kingdom. But they raided in a certain vicinity and sooner or later the King would find them. It had been two and a half years, after all. The wind died down as he arrived at the camp to a smoldering fire and bodies of sleeping men everywhere. Of course they would be asleep he thought it was late but he had left only an hour ago. He smelled the strong stench of liquor in the air, no doubt as soon as he had left they had all gotten drunk. He looked back at the campfire and cursed, that meant the smoke had been visible for a while now, he quickly walked over to the makeshift shed that was used for storing tools. It was a little ways away in the woods, and he immediately found what he was searching for. When he returned to the campfire he used the shovel to throw dirt on the fire to stop the smoke, it was enough for now, but they would have to move camp in the morning, he would let the men sleep now. But tomorrow there would be hell to pay.
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Liam was up with the sun, and made the rest of the group get up as well. After he had berated them for their foolishness he made them pack up and move out. He was ahead of the group now leading them to a new campsite when he heard one of the men say "What a fool, no one would have noticed a bit of smoke." He immediately turned his horse around and signaled the men to stop, as soon as they did he asked in a quiet but infuriated tone, "Which one of you said that?" Partway down the line a horse pulled out of the two rows that they were traveling in. The rider was a new recruit by the name of Simon, he was 6'2, blond, and heavily built. "Get off your horse." Liam said as he rode his horse to where Simon was, Simon reluctantly obeyed and dismounted, Liam did as well. "What did you say about me?" Simon, confidence growing replied "I said, what a fool, no one would have noticed a bit of smoke." Liam was around 6'5, with short brown hair, and heavily built as well. But Simon was confident he could take him. Liam approached him and said, "Try and punch me." Simon was caught off guard and started with surprise. "I said, try and punch me!" Liam bellowed, and Liam was spurred into action and swung at Liam with his left fist. Liam, with lightning speed dodged to his right, caught Simon's wrist with his left hand and used his palm to hit the outside of Simon's elbow causing the bones in his arm to snap. Simon screamed, Liam let go of his wrist and said, "Next time it will be your neck." In a low voice so low, no one else could hear. " Now bind that up, get on your horse and move!" Liam yelled.
The soldiers chose this moment to attack, they had been behind and to the right of the lines of men,
An arrow flew by Liam's face and implanted itself in Simon's forehead, and his body slumped to the ground. "Find cover!" Liam bellowed, he crouched and ran for cover behind his horse. He quickly grabbed his war axe from it's place behind the saddle, in a position that would be able to take it easily from atop the horse. The soldiers put down their bows and charged, unsheathing broadswords, and started cutting down the bandits who were used to attacking unsuspecting villagers and stabbing people in the back. Luckily for them Liam had organized a group of ten experienced fighters. "To me!" Liam shouted and the ten assembled around him, he estimated there were about fifty soldiers. Liam moved swiftly with the ten me cutting down soldiers left and right until there were about twenty left that and sixteen had formed a line, most of the bandits had run of like cowards and the rest were dead, but a few were trying their best to fight the few soldiers not in the line. Liam and his ten men advanced and each one chose a separate target, except Liam he had six that surrounded him. With one large stoke of his axe he chopped four of them in half, by now the ten had killed their targets and by the time they reached Liam he had had critically injured the other two, and the bandits who had stayed had finished off the remaining four. "What should we do now?" one of the ten asked. "Four of you find the cowards who deserted us and bring them back. Four of you tend to the wounded, and the other two clean these men's wounds, take them to the nearest village, and set up transportation for them to the royal capital. I think it's time we sent a message to the King."