The night swallowed us whole as we ventured into enemy territory. Every crunch of leaves underfoot, every whisper of the wind through the trees, felt like the drumbeat of our presence to unseen ears. My senses were on edge, my hand never straying far from my sword's hilt.
We moved in silence, each one focused only on the mission ahead. Lira led, her keen eyes scanning the shadows for some sign of movement. Tarek followed, marking the terrain on a crude map he carried. Rynor trailed, his hand resting lightly upon his axe, every step measured and deliberate.
The encampment of the Blackwood Legion wouldn't be far-fetched - perhaps a few miles from the fortress. Tarek had scouted it earlier during the chaos of battle and described it as some kind of sprawling labyrinth of tents, siege engines, and patrols. He'd seen no fewer than three war mages each of whom were surrounded by heavily armed guards.
We crested the top of the hill and gazed over the camp. From our vantage, the enemy's strength became brutally obvious. Fires fell like stars across the landscape, lighting row after row of tents and the behemoth shadows of siege towers. Soldiers marched in patrols, their discipline a marked contrast to the mess of the battlefield.
"That's a lot of men," Rynor said softly.
"Too many," Lira said, drawing her bowstring tight. "We're going to need more than luck to pull this off."
"We don't need to defeat them," I reminded them. "Just disrupt them. Their supply lines, their siege engines, their mages—that's where we hit. Hard and fast, and gone before they even know what happened."
Tarek hunkered down beside me, his finger tracing a route on his map. "There's a weak point here, near the eastern edge. Supply wagons come and go under light guard. If we hit that first, it'll create chaos."
"And the mages?" I asked.
His face clouded. "They're near the center of the camp. Too well-guarded to take head-on."
"We don't need to confront them, head-on," I said, a plan forming in my head. "What if we draw them out? Force them to overextend?"
"How?" Lira asked, furrowing her brow.
I pointed to the siege engines. "We destroy their arms first. That'll make them send reinforcements—and if we're lucky, one of the mages. Once they're alone, we strike."
Rynor grunted in approval. "Simple. Dangerous. I like it."
"Well, then let's move," I said, standing up.
We moved down the hill, shadowlike, following the shadows and outcroppings of rocks to keep us covered. The closer we got to camp, the heavier the air seemed, as if the actual weight of the enemy's presence could kill us from sheer lack of breath.
The first target was a line of supply wagons near the eastern edge, just as Tarek had described. Their guards were sparse, more focused on their dice game than their surroundings.
Lira took the lead, her bow whispering as she loosed two arrows in quick succession. The guards crumpled without a sound, and we moved in to set the wagons alight.
The flames roared to life, illuminating the night and sending the camp into an uproar. Shouts echoed as soldiers scrambled to contain the fire, their movements disjointed in the chaos.
"Move!" I hissed, leading the team deeper into the camp.
The great wooden and iron siege engines stood before us, threatening death if they reached our fortress in any form. The guards were more vigilant this time-around, scanning the shadows before them.
"Tarek, find the weak points," I instructed.
He nodded and slid away like a wisp of smoke. He returned a moment later, now pointing to the base of the closest tower. "There. One blast will do the trick."
Rynor pulled out a small bag of dynamite and smiled grimly. "I've got this one. Keep watch."
Lira and I moved into place, weapons at the ready, while Rynor did his thing. The guards caught on too late—before they could raise the alarm, the charge was set.
"Run!" Rynor shouted, and we bolted as the blast ripped through the night.
The wooden frame of the tower groaned, then splintered down in a thunderous crash that shook the ground beneath our feet. Soldiers are streaming into the area, their shouts mingling with the screams of the wounded.
We didn't stop. Another tower fell and then another, each explosion sowing more confusion and fear. But the enemy wasn't completely unprepared.
As we moved toward the next target, a chilling voice echoed through the camp.
"Fools," it hissed, low and venomous, yet loud enough to cut through the mayhem. "You dare challenge the Blackwood Legion in our domain?"
A figure strode out of the smoke—a mage, his robes black as night, his staff shining with a malignant purple glow. He moved with an unnatural elegance, casting a ripple of fear through the air as he advanced.
"Back!" I shouted, drawing my sword.
The mage let out a loud guffaw, and he raised his staff. A wave of dark energy shot our way, and we barely avoided it by diving out of its path. The ground where we had been standing was now a smoking crater.
"Rynor, Tarek, flank him!" I shouted. "Lira, cover fire!"
They flew arrows, which the mage swatted at the side with a flick of his staff. Rynor charged in from the left side, axe swinging in a big arc, and Tarek in from the right side, blades flashing.
The mage danced out of range with inhuman speed, his movement more shadow than substance. He hurled an energy bolt that sent Rynor crashing to the ground and knocked Tarek to the dirt as well.
I didn't wait. I plunged, my sword flying straight for his heart.
He took the blade in his staff, the blow stinging and sending electric shocks through my arms. His glowing eyes snapped to mine, a wicked smile twisting his lips.
"You're brave," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But bravery won't save you."
"Neither will arrogance," I shot back, wrenching my blade free and striking again.
It was vicious and short, every swing of my blade returning in kind from his staff. Lira's arrows kept him in the backpedal, but it wasn't enough.
Then Tarek, bloody but on his feet, launched himself up. He threw a dagger, its blade catching the mage's shoulder. The distraction was all I needed.
I plunged my sword into his chest; the weight of the blow had sent him crashing to the ground. His staff bounced away with a metallic clang; its glow was fading, as the life inside it seeped away.
The camp remained in turmoil, but things were about to get worse for them.
"Fall back!" I croaked, my voice strained and hoarse.
We melted into the night, leaving the camp in ruin, and the Blackwood Legion reeling.
The mission had been accomplished, but as we headed back toward the fortress, I couldn't help thinking that the real war was just about to start.