One of the things Sarel had purchased that Merdon loved was a pair of binoculars. He had never really had reason to use a pair before, with most of his missions involving confronting lone thieves or the occasional two-man team. The rundown fortress he was spying on from the hilltop was another matter altogether. Laying on his belly, Quickclaw at his side, Red and Skyeyes waiting behind them out of sight, the human was scanning the structure the bandits were hiding in.

It looked like an old stone fort. Built out in the middle of the plains making it impossible to approach without being spotted, a solid foundation of stone meaning they couldn't set it ablaze with Red's magic, and what looked like an intact roof meant no frontal distractions while Sarel scaled the wall and attacked from within. They needed a plan. One that got them beyond the reinforced gate which was much newer than the rest of the structure, from what Merdon could guess. These bandits were smart, and rumor had it they numbered in the double digits. At least ten, maybe more. No one was quite sure. Some would come out, others would stay in, and no one was brave enough to get closer to see if it was always the same ones coming out.

Their need for a distraction of some kind was not helped by the location. On top of being in the middle of open flat land, the fort was along a disused stretch of worn road. No highway around here, no waiting for a convenient caravan to pass by, that alone would be suspicious to the men inside. They needed something else. They needed a plan the group could enact on their own.

Merdon shimmied back down the hill, turning and sliding once he was out of sight of the fort. Sarel followed him and looked at him from the side. She figured he had seen something or had come up with an idea already. It was bold of her to assume that so early, but the way Red and Skyeyes were looking at him they thought so too. He had become their de facto leader at some point. All of the eyes on him put great pressure on the knight, but it eventually paid off. A plan slowly came together in Merdon's mind, one which had a minimum of two contingencies.

“It looks like rain,” he commented, looking up at the sky.

That confused Sarel. “So?”

Merdon smirked, “Animals look for shelter in the rain. If, say, a lone wolf was out here, where would it go?”

Now it was making sense. The kobold grinned. “Quickclaw's wolf could search for any cracks we cannot see from the front.”

“And if it doesn't find any, we can use it to get them to come out. Maybe some howling, snarling, and they'll send someone to deal with it.”

“What if one of the men on the roof has a bow?” Skyeyes asked. Lookouts were why they didn't approach now after all.

“Red can take care of him then,” Merdon said. “I doubt any of them is a good enough shot with a bow to take us out from behind the hill. They would have to come out here.”

Red shook her head. “Or wait us out.” The bandits had a fort and supplies.

“Then we'll go in at night,” he said. “You can distract them with some fire to one side, we'll slip towards the fort in the dark. They won't be able to leave and set torches without you tossing fire at them. They'll be in the dark.”

It made as much sense as one could make. Or, in other words, it was the best plan they had. Sarel at least was focused on her first task. Either way, the wolf was step one, and so she summoned it from the ring and closed her eyes. She took direct control and ran it towards the fort. The wolf made it in a short time and started checking the outside wall. After a time, the kobold frowned. There was a small crevice in the wall, big enough for a halfling or kobold, so it would certainly fit a wolf. When she pressed into the crack, however, the wolf was stopped by something solid. Quickclaw told her companions the bad news. That meant it was time for plan B.

As thunder rumbled in the distance, making everyone aware of the oncoming storm, Sarel's wolf howled outside the gate. The first of two guards on top of the fort made a comment and looked over the edge. He didn't have his bow. A second guard told him to let the guys at the gate deal with it. Words that Quickclaw repeated to her friends thanks to sharing all senses with the wolf. The first guard shouted down to the guys at the gate, and as he did the blue kobold pointed to the red one. It was showtime.

Red scurried up the hillside and looked over the edge. She judged the distance and cocked her arm back. Her flame hidden behind the hilltop, she had no issue putting a fireball in her hand and waiting. Merdon was at the base of the hill, around the side, ready to charge, while Sarel continued focusing as the wolf. They were all in place, ready, like clockwork. All they needed was the sign.

The front gate opened into the fort and two men stepped out. One holding a sword and the other with a bow. As the one wielding the bow drew back the string, Red catapulted her fireball. It soared straight and true, catching the man square in the chest, burning his bowstring and setting his clothes on fire. He screamed in surprise and terror and ran out of the fort, tripping and flailing on the ground. That might save his life in the short term, but while his companion stared in shock the wolf moved, lunging and biting the sword wielder's neck. With a heaved breath, he stabbed at the wolf, but to no avail. Realizing what was happening just as the knight came sprinting around the hill towards the fort, the swordsman died. Toppling over and back in the gateway. No one was closing the gate when his corpse was in the way.

Following in Merdon's wake, Red jumped up and ran down the hill, lobbing fireball after fireball at the top of the fort. The men on watch screamed warnings that they were under attack to whoever was inside the fort while they dodged fire to get back inside. Sarel followed behind her mate and Skyeyes behind her. There was no telling what was inside, and as vulnerable as Skyeyes was compared to the rest of them, he was going to be needed in the thick of it this time. Thankfully they had all spent the day before resting up, taking their time to get to the fort, knowing it would be a hard battle.

Merdon stepped inside first and looked around, his shield raised protectively against his chest. There were a lot of doors and a stairway on the other side. A second floor. Perfect. The knight listened while the kobolds formed up behind him. Someone had to be on the first floor, other than the two guys that had been guarding the gate. He heard footsteps; leather shoes and not clanking metal indicated lightly armed foes. They had caught most of the bandits by surprise, but the longer they lingered on the first floor the more time those above had to prepare. With his face set, Merdon turned towards the footsteps. Sarel had drawn her bow back behind him, aiming in the direction he was facing, while fire sprung to life in Red's claws. Whoever came out into the main hall was going to get destroyed without question.

Moments later a door opened up and two men came sprinting out, making a break for the stairs across from the group. Sarel's bow twanged, its arrow soaring and embedding itself into the back of a bald man. He shouted and fell, his torso catching the heels of his companion in front of him and tripping the other fleeing man. Red hesitated with her fireball, recalling the screaming man just feet behind her. She didn't want to see that so close. It was a long enough pause for Sarel to nock another arrow and fire it. The second bandit didn't make it back to his feet, his arm extended towards the stairs and went limp as the arrow punctured something vital. If his gurgling was anything to go by, it was a lung.

Red exhaled and put out her flame, closing her eyes and trying not to think about what they'd done. What they were going to do was so much worse. She had to be stronger. Skyeyes put a claw on her shoulder and looked at Merdon. The two of them were far from prepared for this sort of combat, and his look conveyed that worry well. Even Sarel glanced at them, unsure if this was the best idea her verakt had.

The knight was well aware of Red's concerns, but they needed her, and Skyeyes as well. This was dangerous, bone-chilling work. Most adventurers encountered bandits for the first time on the road, fighting for their lives in an ambush. In that situation, it made things harder to process. What they were doing now was methodical. They were the ambushers, and that made all the difference.

“We need to check this floor,” Merdon said softly.

“Quickclaw's wolf can handle the search,” the kobold said proudly.

Skyeyes muttered, “Goddess forgive me,” before telling her the problem with her idea. “Your wolf does not have hands.”

The blue kobold paused and looked at him quizzically. “So?”

“How will it open these doors?”

Sarel, bent on proving the priest wrong, had her wolf pad up to a door and attempt to open it. The creature started on hind legs, attempting to open it with its front paws. When that failed, she had it drop back down to all fours and slam its side into the door. Which also failed, only managing to rattle the thick wooden door on its hinges.

Merdon sighed. “This will take forever.”

Not wanting it to take forever, the knight pushed past Sarel and walked over to the door her wolf was pawing at. He lifted his leg, steel strapped to his body he was much heavier and stronger than the wolf. The clatter of the door breaking as Merdon's foot connected, splitting the obstruction in two and sending it flying into the room, was deafening. All three kobolds covered their ears while the knight held his shield in front of him in case of a follow-up attack. It was dead quiet after the last splinter of wood settled. Still, Quickclaw had her wolf peek into the empty room just to be safe. Merdon turned back around and looked at the trio.

“Fast, efficient, safe,” he declared.

The kobolds nodded and started following along behind Merdon as he kicked in every single door they came across. Three doors in the main hall, all empty. Then came a fork in the road. Ahead were the stairs upward, where they knew the rest of the bandits were, but there were about two more rooms to check on the left and right side of the fort. They went left which led towards a large single room. Sarel held up a claw and told Merdon she heard someone in the room, thanks to the wolf's hearing. As they all got closer to the door it became less of a forewarning. All four of them could hear someone inside talking to himself, essentially panicking about being found alone in a storeroom. A room where the bandits were keeping their stolen goods.

Merdon kicked the door down with an extra bit of vigor, timing his kick to the sound of the voice. A scream from inside was cut short as the whole door caught him and tossed him backward. The loud thud and heavy crack of his body landing on the stone floor said he was at least unconscious. Still, Quickclaw was not one to take chances. The thief slipped in, wriggling around Merdon's form in the doorway, knife drawn. It took her all of five seconds to bend down under the door and stick her knife somewhere fatal. Cold, calculated, and knowledgeable, it became clear Sarel had killed humans before. Possibly often.

“I don't want to think about how you know that,” Merdon said softly as he looked around the room.

Sarel grinned. “Not all humes are good,” she reminded him.

“Not saying they are. I just don't want to think about it right now,” Merdon reiterated for her. His eyes were busy checking over the things in the storeroom. Boxes marked with merchant names, but not months worth of goods.

“This isn't everything,” Skyeyes commented. “The rest must be upstairs.”

Red glanced out the door where Sarel's wolf sat in watch. “Or on the right side we did not take,” she added.

“To the right then,” Merdon said as he turned around. “Then we'll go upstairs and clean them out.”

“They'll be waiting,” Sarel mentioned. “We should be prepared as well.”

The human considered that as they made their way to the other side of the first floor. He glanced back towards the large doors they'd come in from, looking out on the gloomy late afternoon. Bleak skies and foreboding weather but no sign the bandits had tried to scale down the roof and approach from that angle. They pushed on through the intersection of the fort and stopped at the last door on the first floor. Merdon thought about what rooms could be left. Barracks possibly, a kitchen too, but who knew what the bandits would be using the room for. Still, they had to check every corner before going upstairs to avoid getting caught in a pincer strike. Basic adventuring knowledge which even a group of thieves like this probably knew.

Lifting his very sore leg up, Merdon booted the door down with a couple of kicks this time, he was clearly weakening himself, but much like last time, it paid off. No one stood behind the door, but a bandit did quite suddenly come around the corner holding a huge log. Swinging it like a club the bandit bashed the raised shield, pushing the knight back and causing the bandit to stumble as well. The opening was wide enough for Sarel's wolf to leap in and bite the assailant. He screamed and swung at the wolf to no avail. It didn't feel the pain no matter how hard he swung and, once Merdon recovered, it took only a few seconds to stab the flailing bandit in the chest and remove him from the skirmish.

Which was quite good as there were two more men in the room and they were much better armed. One of them was burly and had his own sword and shield, while the other was thinner, younger, and holding a dagger. Merdon barged in first, shield at the ready, and pushed on the large man. Quickclaw had a gleam in her eyes as she followed, dagger out, ready to fight the spindly one. It would give them both an opportunity to see how well these bandits could fight.

Merdon's opponent took the first swing, his sword being neatly blocked by a shield. The knight followed up by pushing him away and taking a swing of his own, which was also met by a shield. Telling was the sound it made, however. A heavy thunk of metal on wood. These bandits weren't nearly as armed as they seemed. His enemy's shield was painted to look like metal and nothing more. Withdrawing his blade, Merdon tapped his magic shield to activate it and let the confusion of its warbling tone add to the difficulty of concentrating on a fight.

At the same time, Sarel was practically dancing with her foe. They circled, arms moving as they probed for openings, the less predictable their movements the better. As they moved, their eyes flicked to the dueling swordsmen in the corner of the room, but they knew if either of them tried to move to assist it would end poorly. Turning your back on someone as fast and prepared as they were would cost your life. So they moved, carefully, quickly, methodically random, until Sarel saw her chance. The human thief overextended one of his swipes, letting her dodge to her knife holding hand and swing at him. It was a deep cut, but nothing fatal. A broad gash on his arm, just above his bracer. Still, she had gotten the first hit and it made the human nervous.

Things weren't any better for the sword and shield holder. He was becoming increasingly irate at Merdon's lack of trying. Every blow was deflected by the magic shield without effort, and frequently it caused him to overreach his strikes, leaving him open to counter-attacks. His own shield was starting to splinter from the force of the attacks it was absorbing, and he was wearing down much faster than the man in full armor. That slowing was eventually what killed him. A thrust he missed, his shield too far to the wrong side. Merdon's blade scraped the edge of the shield and pierced his simple clothes. His arms went limp, his eyes dark, and when the sword was pulled from his chest, he collapsed without a word.

His companion was distracted by his ally's death, and it ultimately led to his end as well. While he looked, watched, as the bandit slid from Merdon's sword, Sarel moved in. She shouldered his dagger out of his hand and drove hers into his throat. Blood gushed as he hacked and sputtered to breathe. The noise only worsened when Sarel pulled her blade out and skipped back to avoid any hidden weapons the thief may have had on him. There were none. He reached down for his dagger but missed, falling flat onto his stomach and eventually stopping entirely. After an intense pair of fights, the room was silent, save for the fire burning in a corner.

Merdon finally got a look at the room. It was quite hot, and with his adrenaline calmed down he realized there was a smell in the air. Food. They were standing in a kitchen, which explained the lack of armor on either bandit. In fact, the armored man was heating up quickly and he opted to simply fall back outside of the room and take his helmet off. Sweat poured off his face and ran down his armor while Sarel continued to pick around the room. When she came out, she sat a small sack of stuff to the side of the door.

“Provisions,” she said simply. “It's not like they will need them.”

“Fair enough,” Merdon admitted, shaking his head, trying cool off more. “C'mon. We have to deal with the second floor now.”

Skyeyes, however, stopped him. “Allow me to heal your leg first,” he insisted. “The last thing we need is for you to get knocked over in a fight.”

Merdon grunted and sat down, extending his leg and letting Skyeyes do his thing. The storm finally broke overhead as he did that. Rain pounding on the roof, thunder rumbling hard enough to shake the air. Red frowned and put her arms around herself in a tight hug. Apparently, she didn't like the loud noises. Sarel put a claw on her shoulder reassuringly. It wasn't too long and Merdon was up and feeling better. He gave Skyeyes a smile and put his helmet back on before taking the lead again.

“The storm is a good thing,” he told them. “It'll help mask us coming up the stairs.”

Quickclaw nodded and noted, “If there is no door on the stairs here there likely isn't one up there either. We should be ready for an ambush the moment we reach the top.”

He nodded at that and started towards the stairs. The first floor was cleared out and they had taken out five. If there just over ten men inside of the fort, which meant they could expect at least six upstairs, possibly more. Merdon readied himself for more, just in case. Being prepared for the worst was better than hoping for the best.

His clanging armor was nicely covered by the rain and thunder, a welcome advantage when they encountered something unexpected at the top of the stairs. A barricade made from various things in the fort. The bandits had put up a makeshift door, likely expecting the invaders would have to hack or kick their way through it, giving them advanced warning. They weren't thinking about Red, or somehow they didn't know there was a mage with them. Merdon smiled and gestured for her to do something.

The red kobold nodded and held out her hands. She exhaled and mumbled a spell. Fire appeared on her palms but quickly left, flicking to the wooden objects across from them. Merdon expected the wood to burn or start smoldering. Instead, it exploded, a sharp crack followed by a deep boom that showered both sides of the doorway with splinters. Shouting bandits on the other side were cursing, some of them had large splinters, almost miniature arrows with the force they'd been sent at, lodged in their arms or faces. It also effectively disabled one bandit near the doorway who had been trying to listen for their approach.

Not one to gape when an opportunity presented itself, Merdon charged in, Sarel's wolf at his side, quickly veering off to grab one bandit's throat in its maw. An archer stationed opposite the stairs fumbled with his bow, distracted by the explosion, and met an untimely end by the charging knight's blade. His rush was something they seemed to expect, however, as men began pouring out of the side rooms on the second floor. Most notable among them was a man with a heavy ax raised over his head and bearing down on Merdon. Red, hesitant though she was, saw that the knight wouldn't be able to turn in time. She conjured flames and hurled them, shouting as she did. Her first fireball missed, hitting a guy wielding a knife that was coming towards the doorway she was standing in, the second found its target.

The ax-wielding bandit dropped his weapon as his leather armor caught fire. Red's flames were intense, especially when she was afraid or focused. Whichever she was in at that moment, the man caught easily and ran to look for water. Two bandits incapacitated, the two fighting on the floor could focus on the remaining men. Cheap swords broke against Merdon's shield, and larger targets found themselves easy prey for Sarel's quick dagger play. For how many there were at the ready, Red giving her group an explosive entrance had thrown the bandits into complete disarray.

The knight made his way through the fight without a scratch, although his sword and armor would need to be buffed out from the dings they took in the fight. Sarel had avoided any kind of impact or hit, owing to her great speed and agility. Thankfully, none of the bandits had the presence of mind to go for the less armored kobolds in the doorway, probably because of Red holding fire in her claws most of the time. Skyeyes silently admitted to himself it was frightening seeing her like that. She looked demonic, and perhaps that was what intimidated them. Whatever the case, they had gone unscathed as well, something Merdon noted internally. Their luck wouldn't last forever like this. Theris, the fort, they were unusual victories.

“We should get the bodies out of here, then close the place back up,” Merdon said once the fighting was over and everyone had gathered their wits. “We can't carry all of the things back to the merchants.”

Sarel nodded in agreement. “We shall just take the food from the kitchen. It is likely all the bandit's stores after all.”

“Hopefully,” Merdon muttered. The food would be nice to keep after all. It would save them coin if nothing else.

Skyeyes put a claw on Red's shoulder and gently moved past her. Laying the dead to rest was the job of a cleric like him, and while the bandits were not good people, they could not be the ones to judge their lives. Perhaps resorting to stealing was all they could do, perhaps they had been born into it and knew no other life. It wasn't his place to judge. His place was to ask the goddess to judge them fairly in the form of prayer. A duty he would do without being asked because even the vilest souls deserved to be judged. So he had been taught.