The sounds of clinking steel and heavy footsteps reverberated throughout the twilight forest.

The moon, unobstructed and vacant, cast a white glow onto the landscape, the light seeping through gaps in the canopy and creating a patchwork pattern along the forestbed.

It is in these scattered dots of visibility that the attackers could be seen.

Nearly a dozen men stalked across the thicket, weaving between trees and sticking to the shadows when possible. The smaller of the bunch, more boys than men really, could be identified by their low stance, and the way in which the mail on their conical helms constantly rustled about.

The larger ones, on the other hand, sauntered about almost arrogantly. The crescent heads on their battleaxes swung to and fro on their shoulders, obviously in mockery of the greenhorns accompanying them.

One of the younger soldiers, nearly on all fours and partially engulfed in a thick brush, audibly clicked his tongue. He nudged his comrade, who was one of the arrogant sort.

The man simply scoffed. His massive frame unmoved by the provocation.

“What’s it to ‘ya, Alexi? Tired crawling around like a molerat? Maybe the mud’s getting to you?”

“Fuck off.” He whacked the man again with the back of his hand. “I’d rather be dirty than dead. I’d suggest you get down if you think the same.”

The upright man’s lips curved into a mocking smile, it was obvious that this exact situation had played out many times already.

“What, got somethin’ to be scared of big boy?”

“Quit acting like you don’t. Guys have been going missing way too often this week.”

“Rookies will be rookies. You heard the Cap’n, probably got done in by some monster.”

Alexi squinted at the man, his expression filled a mixture of disbelief and pity. “You don’t actually believe the shit that guy says do you?”

“Fuck else would I listen to? He’s the big man with the biggest axe. And since I like my head quite a bit, I ain’t gonna spread slander like yer’ doin”

“Idiots, every last one of you.”

“What, you think you’s better than the rest of us ‘cuz you went to some fancy pantsy school when you was young?”

“Yes, yes I do actually.”

“Lad, leave all that fancy learnin’ to them scholars or whatever. A man’s job is to fight, farm and fuck. Ain’t nothin else we gotta worry about.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thinking that I despise. Just you watch, one of these days I’ll escape this hellhole.”

Another man, presumably having overheard their conversation, veered a little closer.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, lad. Igor’s group hasn’t been back since last night, and they’s some mighty fine fighters. Pretty sure they’ve been with the Captain before this campaign. And if they’s biting the dust, I don’t reckon we’d fair much better here.”

“Well that’s because Igor’s a fucking idiot. Probably ate some bad mushrooms and shat his soul out. Wouldn’t be the first time, probably won’t be the last.”

“...aye, that’s fair enough.”

Various thoughts rushed through Alexi’s troubled mind.

The standard Bruk’bar paradigm centered around its commanders. They did the thinking, and considering that military academies were the only institutions that the current clan warlord was willing to find, they were quite good at doing just that.

This meant that the actual infantry only needed to learn combat training, completely forgoing intellectual training in order to churn out such a massive number of troops. Considering that most young men within Bruk’bar territory were already avid hunters or herders, they only needed to be taught how to march, and how to use their spears before being shipped out.

They were simply pawns to be used by their commanders, or at least that’s what he himself had learned in his brief stint at his local academy. In reality many of them, including himself, lacked the discipline to carry out their duty atop the strategic chessboard, thus causing their current situation.

Nevertheless, seeing these simple-minded idiots cling to every word that came out of the Captain’s mouth was frankly depressing. To think that a person could lose their individuality so easily in the face of hardship, it was pitiful.

Then again, that might’ve just been the narcissism talking.

While engrossed in these thoughts, the man leading the party came to an abrupt stop. He was probably the greenest of the bunch, but was by far the most perceptive, thus his position.

Alexi’s partner was the first to speak up, naturally.

“I swear if you mistook another fucking tree as a person I’m gonna-”

The sun had risen. Or at least, that’s what it had felt like.

His eyes slammed shut as a stabbing migraine assaulted his brain. The light was so bright that he felt as if he’d been punched square on the nose, he’d turned away so quickly that he nearly gave himself whiplash.

He could barely register the screams and curses around him, his attention much too focussed on his eyes to worry about much else.

Only when the incessant throbbing faded a few moments later, did he hear the screams directly next to him. The screeching was abruptly cut short, replaced by a low gurgling.

Warm beads of some liquid splattered across his cheek, and what followed was the sickly stench of iron.