The party set off at dawn and began their 4-day march to the crossroads in the north of the territory.
The party was comprised of Victor, Corporal Junot and the 9 soldiers from the 1st company. The 2nd company was left stationed at the camp while servants returned to the palace.
The sun beat down on the backs of the men marching along the Luxen Road. Dust swirled around their worn boots, kicked up by the rhythmic thud of their feet. At the head of the column, Victor, Lord of the men, rode his sturdy warhorse, his gaze unwavering.
As the day wore on, the road stretched endlessly before them, a ribbon of uncertainty winding through the landscape. The squad kept pace, their spirits bolstered by camaraderie and shared purpose. Defeating the bandits was of paramount importance.
The men were alert. The bandits could appear at any time. They were 3 days away from the crossroads and the scorching sun was beginning its descent. Aware of the fact that the men had been marching for hours without proper rest Victor ordered them to set up camp and rest until the following morning.
The next day the party marched some more, making steady progress on route to the crossroads, however before the sunset, a mysterious figure in the distance hobbled towards the column. His left leg dragging behind him and his right arm visibly hanging by his side.
Staggering closer to the column the soldiers made ready their muskets. The man raised his hands as he kept inching closer.
"Please don't shoot! Help me," groaned the mysterious man.
Wearing a bloodied and ripped brown waistcoat the man could be identified as a guard of some sort. With no weapons or any belongings, the man had nothing. With blood flowing out of the wounds on his shoulder and leg the man was hanging onto life by a thread.
"My merchant convoy was ambushed by bandits. They were all killed and we were left with nothing," the man said with the light from his green eyes fading.
The soldiers hastened to treat the wounded man but to no avail. From his journey, he had lost too much blood walking for almost a day. His body ran cold with the evening wind. The soldiers feeling sorry for the man gave him a decent burial near a nice-looking tree with orange leaves.
They knew not his name or where he was from so they left his grave unmarked and said only a brief saying for the fallen guard. Slightly shaken by their interaction with the guard the party made camp nearby and rested for the evening.
The next morning was more of the same, marching under the scorching sun they were almost upon the crossroads. As they made their way along the Luxen Road they fell upon the aftermath of a robbing. Dead men were sprinkled around the vicinity, darkened and burned wagons were discarded and dried blood stained the emerald blades of grass near the road.
The soldiers surveyed the surrounding area looking for clues or any tracks leading away from the area. Unfortunately, their search proved fruitless. They couldn't find any tracks left by the bandits. The only option now was to stake out the area and wait for the bandits to strike again.
"Set up camp nearby, we will be keeping watch over the road in groups of two, we must be prepared to intercept the bandits and capture some of them alive," Victor commanded.
"You heard the Lord, let's quickly establish our camp and keep vigilance over the road. I'm sure we'll catch these bastards soon enough," Ordered Corporal Junot.
For the next 3 days, the soldiers lay in wait, occasionally patrolling the road looking for signs of robbery. Only passing travellers were on the roads, none of them with anything worth robbing. It almost felt like robbers were in the same position as the soldiers, stalking the road, waiting for a merchant convoy.
The party had left the camp almost a week ago and so far they had nothing to show from this expedition. Doubt began to creep into Victor's mind, had jumping into this optional quest too early been a rash decision? Should he have prepared more thoroughly?
He could question himself as much as he wanted it wouldn't change the current situation he faced.
With the 7th day finally beginning Victor began to wonder whether he'd find the the bandits at all. When all of a sudden the faint sounds of muskets could be heard in the distance. Realising a skirmish had broken out nearby the soldiers rushed to equip themselves with their gear.
Once assembled the party made haste in the direction of the skirmish. The sound of musket fire was growing louder and the screams of men became audible.
"Quickly men! We must hurry!" Victor yelled, marshalling his men to pick up the pace of their
Up ahead three survivors were fending off 14 bandits who had them pinned down on two sides. 17 of the 20 men in the small convoy had fallen from bullet wounds. The soldiers under Victor spread out and began to fire upon the bandits.
From the first volley, 3 of the bandits fell instantly. The might of Victor's elite soldiers were on full display in this skirmish. Using nearby wagons and trees as cover they began to suppress the foolhardy bandits. Slowly the bandits suffered casualties with only 6 of them remaining. The pressure applied by Victor and his soldiers was proving too much for simple bandits to handle.
The hit-and-run tactics deployed by the bandits were usually successful on unsuspecting convoys but now were proved useless by the reinforcements of Victor's party. Sensing this raid a failure the bandits on both flanks began to withdraw further up the road.
Seeing this Victor and the soldiers pressed the advantage and advanced after them. Defending the convoy was a success and now they sought to eradicate the bandit threat entirely.
Dealing a few more casualties to the bandits the remaining 3 of the 14 to were unable to outrun the elite soldiers under the command of Victor. With valuable prisoners who held important information, Victor was chuffed with the effort of his men. His only regret is that he couldn't arrive earlier and save more of the poor souls who had lost their lives.
Medical aid was administered to the three survivors of the convoy and with their assistance dealt with dead bodies. Salvaging what they could the 3 survivors decided to turn back to Hannover and sell off what good they could.
Turning his attention to his prisoners Victor asked them once. "Lead me to your camp, or face extreme torcher for the countless lives you have taken,"
Exuding a ferocious aura, the prisoners looked at each other nervously, The elite soldiers who had made easy work of them stood over them, unharmed from their engagement. They were the real deal and that terrified the prisoners.
In a consensus, they nodded and began to lead the party to their camp