Trouble in the Rainwood

[Gandalfus]

Leaving the foreboding castle, the group of armed men pressed south for a day or two, past Griffin's Roost and Wensington Castle, to the borders of the Rainwood.
The forest stretched for many leagues south, dominating the southern Stormlands, right up towards Cape Wrath, where the Estermonts made their home off the coast. As they arrived, the golden sun was breaking through the clouds, and a cold mist hung in he air, stretching off into the tangled trees.

[mic1402]

Ser Tristan readied himself for what was to come. Combat both horrifying and beautiful.

"Ser, what do you know of these brigands?" he asked Ronnet.

[Gandalfus]

Dismounting, the red-haired knight turned his eyes towards the forest with a grimace, resting his right hand on the hilt of his long sword.

"Deserters, former mercenaries, all from the last war." Baratheon had employed mercenary companies of all kinds, and many of these contracted men had simply deserted when their company or contractor suffered losses. They had flocked to the southern Stormlands, in the absence of any local Lord to curb their growing strength.

"Undoubtedly, we'll find them soon enough if we keep travelling on the main tracks south. Though I doubt they'll be bold enough to attack a group of armoured men."


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[mic1402]

Deserters? Tristan wondered if he would end up fighting anyone he knew. He decided that was unlikely as most of his comrades had died at kings landing. He dismounted and followed Ronnet into the forest. "If they feel trapped they will fight." The forest air still had a edge of dampness.

[Gandalfus]

Running through the centre of the Rainwood was a dirt track, eroded by years of continuous use. The strongholds of many lords were littered through the Rainwood, houses with roots as ancient as the trees themselves, though they were near no such castle.
They made their way through the outskirts of the forest deeper into the woods, where the air itself seemed to adopt a greenish hue.
"I like this not." Connington stated grimly, clutching the cold hilt of his blade for comfort. They had seen no travellers on the path - not that the road was well trodden anyway, but it did not indicate good news.

[mic1402]

it was a calm before a storm that much was clear. Tristan grimaced and looked around the path, seeking out tracks or any clues to there preys whereabouts.

[Gandalfus]

Cracking suddenly, a tree fell behind them, crushing two men and splitting the group in two. In the confusion, arrows fluttered past, catching an unfortunate knight in the throat. Connington bellowed for his men to watch the trees as he drew his sword.
Hooting war cries and animalistic roars assaulted their senses, as dozens of men clad in motley leather or rusty metal armour rushed towards the path, wielding vicious axes, longswords, and all manner of weaponry.

[mic1402]

Tristan was surprised as the animalistic rage of his new opponents washed over him. The arrows missed him, but only just. He readied himself and drew his blade. They where in a bad situation group was split and they where caught in a trap. He hoped that Connington knew what he was doing. It wasn't long before a opponent welding a wicked axe attacked him. He blocked the attack with his sword and kicked out the mans leg's. As the opponent went down he opened his throat with a well placed strike. Blood flowed, men screwed around him as he moved on to a another attacker. Using techniques that had been drilled into him from years of practice, he fought with skill of a experienced fighter.

In a moment of peace after dispatching another opponent, he shouted out "TOGETHER MEN! FOR HOUSE BARATHEON!" adding under his breath "For King Steffon." The moment passed and Tristan strode into the melee with methodological precision.

[Gandalfus]

Connington was cut off from the rest along with Tristan, and audibly cursed as he fended off an attack from a hulking, tattooed mercenary brandishing a fearsome club. Howling and hooting, the attackers were mainly utilising shock, and the element of surprise - as a result, the skirmish lasted a brief few minutes, with the bandits melting away back into the forest as quickly as they had arrived upon facing organised resistance. Clearing a path with ax and blade, the Stormlanders were nonetheless exposed, and forced to leave their numerous dead. These men were organised, and fairly well armoured - more than just a ragtag crew of craven cutthroats.

"That was well planned, and executed. They'd seen us coming a mile off." Connington told Tristan, with a grimace, after they had finally settled for a campsite deeper into the forest. "Not trained, mind you, but it seems like that raid was meant for a purpose."

[mic1402]

Tristan thought a moment, "To dissuade us from chasing them? Or to draw us in for a ambush? Due to there organised nature they must have a skilled leader." He said trying to work out a solution to the problem that faced them. This had become a much more complicated situation.

[Gandalfus]

"Aye. It's not as simple as I first thought." Connington admitted reluctantly, with a grimace. "We need to find these men, more than ever - and show them that House Baratheon's justice reaches every acre of the Stormlands. If they are organised, they'll be even worse a threat." The knight recalled tales he had been told as a child of a bandit known as the Vulture King, who had ravaged the Stormlands and the Red Mountains on numerous occasions, with one always returning to take up his mantle. Could they be facing another of his like?

[mic1402]

"Indeed, if we do not show that we can deal with these bandits, more will rise, sensing weakness." Tristan knew that it was key for Lords to show there strength in protecting there subjects and punishing their enemies. "But can we do it with the men we have?"

[Gandalfus]

"We can try." He responded, gruffly, staring into the flames in search for an answer - or some solace.

The next morning, the group departed, sending scouts out into the woods. Most returned, save for the ones who had gone south, towards the coast. Connington led his band in warily tracing their steps, perhaps more than two score men armed in mail and boiled leather spread out amongst the undergrowth, watchful for any signs of life.

[mic1402]

This time they would not be ambushed, Tristan thought to himself. As he carefully walked through the undergrowth, eyes watching for any movement.

[Gandalfus]

(Should we just jump forward a bit here? Not fond of continually rping ambushes in a forest)

[mic1402]

OOC: Sure

[Gandalfus]

The forest had been a difficult path to tread; keeping cohesion amongst the small group as they trawled through the undergrowth was a challenge, especially with the occasional run in with straggling reavers. After half a day or more of following the increasingly growing signals of bandit activity, they came across a group of huts, bodies and houses alike burned beyond all recognition. Passing this eerie scene without incident, the group would shortly after spot the ruins of a fort or holdfast, abandoned long ago by its lord - but with signs of activity coming from it.

[mic1402]

The horror that the bandits had spread was clear, anger burned within him, it was clear they must be stopped.
Tristan's outrage grew as they found the keep. How had they not been informed? Who's responsible for this land? It occurred to him the owner could very well be dead.
But a Fort made things difficult, it gave the advantage to the defenders. The enemies composition and numbers were unknown, and if they all fell, none would know there fate.
Tristan frowned and turned to Ser Connington. "Ser, should we scout it out and send word back, or attack and use the power of surprise." If they waited, the bandits might discover there presence and leave to terrorize some other area.

[Gandalfus]

Staring up towards the ruined holdfast, Connington drew his steel, listening intently to the boisterous chatter coming from the men inside. After a brief moment of deliberation, he turned to Ser Tristan.
"They do not expect our presence here - it is clear we have evaded the vast majority of them. We could split into two - one group to attack from the front, the other to scale the ruined side of the fort." Connington spoke of the castle's eastern side - the wall there had crumbled from years of misuse, and presented a good opportunity to scale the walls.

[mic1402]

"Very good Ser, if it is your wish, i will lead one of the groups." Tristan was now eager to put these brigands to the sword.