By the rise of the autumn sun, the earth still covered with a thin layer of frost as the chilling night ends, a trumpet bellowed on the rich grassland. Thrice it resonated as the signal travelled to the ears of the four camps.
Morning has arrived, and the test has officially begun.
At this moment, a group of men travelled through the lush bushes and trees. Embarking to a distant location. They were quite aware of the risks of their actions, but they knew fairly well that some must undertake this risk for their success.
Stepping lightly and gently on the twigs and grass, fearful of the perhaps informing others of their presence, they nevertheless moved on. Determined, the group numbered no more than 20 travelled without weapons, without armour. They dressed in simple clothes in green, brown, and yellow. The simple colours allowed them to blend in just enough with the dense forestry. It was barely qualified to be called a camouflage nevertheless, it was effective enough to be used for the occasion.
The men crawled, ran, and dived from branches to obstacles, from trees to swamps. They masked themselves from the visible eyes, making their way slowly yet progressively to the enemy camp. They're on a mission, not to protect their base, nor is it to support them. They had one purpose, and that is to attack the enemy base and steal the much-prized green flag.
Thinking back to the plan discussed the night before. Their group decided that the yellow group is by far the most dangerous, with the likes of Thormond and Redwald mingling in the yellow group. It is hazardous to directly attack groups like that.
Instead, it is much more plausible to target the other weak groups, like the blue and green. Not much is known about the respective leaders. But no strong fighters have been identified within their groups. This gave them the confidence to strike them. After all, their chances of coming out of this test as the sole surviving group are almost none.
With themselves being the red group that is located at the very southern edge of the battlefield, the yellow group is directly poor opposite to where they set up their base. This was not by chance.
The red team decided to attack the nearest group, which is the green group. As for the leader Trent not much is known, other than the fact the guy is rather a loner, a quiet soft-spoken soldier that serves the rank. His presence is never really noticed, no one paid particular attention to him… until now at least.
As for the blue group. They are located just West of the red team's base. East of their camp is the green group. With them being much closer to the red team's base, they decided to attack their closest rivals.
As for the plan, it's simple, attack them at the earliest opportunity, before they can regroup and recognise what has hit them. They mustn't allow weak groups to wait for others to bleed out and pick up scraps. Weak groups must fight immediately in a bid to show their worth to their lord. Otherwise, the strong will certainly take the initiative and eliminate them.
Instead of waiting for ill-fated defeat, they will take the battle to them, they were to decide what was to happen. They will take the first initiative.
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(A Knight's POV)
Our small infiltration unit numbered no more than 20 brave men moved ever closer to the enemy camp, slowly, slowly. However, that's when things might not go as planned. Just as we reach the foot of the green camp's mountain, a whistle sounded, screeching yet clear to our nimble ears.
Our group wasn't picked without reason. Out of all the people within the green team, we were the stealthiest, the strongest, and the most quick-witted within our ranks. We were the strongest unit, with the fewest number of men that could be sent without sacrificing our defence.
The whistle echoed among the trees, among the grassy land, yet this whistle was not coincidental. The whistle sounded the moment we stepped foot on the green team's base, it was clear someone noticed our presence, warning others of our arrival.
I looked at my 20 companions, frustrated and annoyed in my heart as I knew we couldn't retreat now. We have already come too far to retreat. I nodded to my comrades, informing them of my intention. Their reaction was not quite what I wanted, but they knew what the consequences might be if we fail.
"Move in small units. If you find the flag, run and return. Don't bother helping anyone."
The massive infiltration unit was broken into 4 small groups, each with 4 to 5 members. I along with 4 other strong men continued with caution. Our presence has already been noticed, though I doubt the green team know exactly where we are.
The perimeter patrol that we haven't noticed must have waited a few minutes after we passed before warning others of our arrival. But now that we've already split into smaller groups, it makes it harder for them to find us all. Some of us are bound to escape their detection.
Even if one group gets caught, so be it. If two groups get caught, so be it. If three groups get caught, so be it. But I bet there will be a group that will penetrate the encirclement, find the enemy flag, and escape.
It's a risky strategy, but one we have to proceed with nevertheless.
We progress with brisk speed, yet we moved with a certain caution due to the possibility of stepping straight into enemy forces.
"You see anything?" I asked my 4 squad members. Though really, it's not a question, but a conversation to keep the morale high.
"Nothing yet." The closest to me replied.
I nodded. "Keep your eyes open."
The short dialogue isn't to keep the conversation going. I'm sure my comrades are already doing everything I have been saying. But having a commander and leader to assert confidence is crucial. Even if I don't necessarily have their respect.
Worn leather boots gripped on the grassy terrain as we progressed ever deeper. The blades of grass, almost to our knee heights, covered our feet. Though we carefully progressed. Snakes and other wildlife might be trampled by us, but none of those matters right now.
We progressed deeper, searching for the ever-elusive green flag.
Then, a weird feeling overcame me. As if my body became magically lighter, free from the heavy weight I carried. My feet felt nothing. As if I was floating, without the sensation of the ground beneath me. A feeling of weightlessness.
The ground approached ever closer to my face as I question whether I was descending to the depths of hell. Falling, ever descending, evaporating into nothingness.
My arms flailed as I struggled to grab something, anything. But nothing was within reach.
But it seemed there was an end to the unpleasant feeling… this continuous descent.
It was as if I crashed into the ground once more. Feeling relieved from this hallucination, I reorganised myself. But I noticed something, it was dark, with almost no light upon where I stood.
I looked around me. There, all four members of my unit were also nearby, questioning what just occurred.
I focused my senses once more on this mysterious location.
A circular chamber with no doors.
Dim lighting shone through the open roof.
The walls were not of wood, nor stone, but of earthen soil.
The ground, filled with endless footsteps engraved what is, I presume, dirt.
The slow recognising of what occurred came slow, but painful as I refused to admit what we have stumbled upon.
"A hole?!" A knight said in shock.
I face palmed, hating myself for my carelessness. Yet I observe my surroundings once more. The soil, soft and moist, wet within my grasp. The floor, newly embedded footprints that suggested recent occupiers.
A hole that was only dug recently?
It then dawned on me… that we have walked straight into a trap.