A corrupt King sits the throne. The last generation of heroes have gone extinct. The lands are as green and as promising as they ever were. The Gods watch with interest and they wait. As next the next uprising comes from the most unlikely of places. A slow burn novel.
Oliver narrowed his eyes, removing the plight of the kidnapped villages from his mind as he made a quick evaluation of the terrain. They'd put the backs of their camp up against a small ciff, about twenty feet high. It was unscalable, but it grew less steep towards each side. It would be possible to get around it if the bandits ran. They'd clearly intended it as a windbreak, or something of that sort.
To catch them all at once, it would likely be best to come at them from both sides, Oliver reasoned. Make it so their only retreat option was back towards the edge of the forest, where the rest of the soldiers would be stationed.
Even then, it seemed unlikely that they would kill every man. As long as they eliminated their capacity as a fighting force, though. He judged that would likely be enough.
Satisfied, he turned to run after the others.
Chapter 8 – Annihilation