Splatter

The caravan was moving slowly along a dirt road with good sized ruts worn into it. The road was dusty and dry as it hadn't rained for about three weeks now. It was the hottest and driest time of year.

Marcus and Ellen were still bringing up the rear of the caravan. They were walking in silence, not for lack of topics to talk about, but because they were now in the area of known bandit activity.

Derrick, the rogue, was sent out about a mile ahead of the caravan in order to spot any trouble. Everyone was on high alert, they did not want to be caught off guard. The only sounds were the wagons rolling along the road, providing a constant rumble, and the oxen's heavy hooves hitting the ground.

"Roger, we got trouble ahead." Derrick said in a low voice as he revealed himself from a hiding spot along the road.

Nearly jumping out of his armor, Roger cried out in surprise.

"Shit man, we need to put a bell around your neck!" Roger said, a little embarrassed about the noise he made.

Derrick just snorted. "There's approximately fifteen bandits about a mile down the road. They're set up behind a tree they're using to block the path. I couldn't get close enough to see if there are any more in hiding."

"Hmmm... Well shit. I was hoping to avoid running into any trouble. Alright, STOP THE CARAVAN! MERCENARIES, GATHER UP!" Roger shouted while waving his arms to gather everyone's attention.

Once the caravan had stopped, Roger first talked with the merchants about the situation. It was ultimately up to them if they wanted to continue forward or double back and try to find a way around. Doubling back could double the length of the trip, so they had a lot to think about.

It was decided that they would push forward. With that, Roger called a meeting to go over a battle plan with the others. The best case scenario would be that the bandits would let them pass unmolested. Most bandits weren't stupid, if they had to fight too hard they would pass and find an easier target.

With a serious look Roger spoke. "Ok everyone, this is the plan...."

.....

The caravan slowly approached the fallen tree that was blocking the dirt road. The fifteen bandits didn't try to hide themselves, they were standing proudly right behind the tree. The head wagon stopped about fifty feet from the tree and Roger walked forward to talk to the bandits. One of the bandits also walked forward, most likely the leader of the group.

"That's close enough there fella." The leader of the bandits said.

Looking at the wagons, the mercenaries, and taking into consideration the size of the wagons, the bandit leader continued. "Just leave one wagon and the oxen for it, then you can pass. No need for unnecessary bloodshed! We outnumber you two to one, be smart about it."

The bandit leader was a tall man at about six feet tall. He was bald headed and carried a long broadsword that was five feet long. He had on ratty leather armor that looked like it would be better off in a dumpster. And he was also missing some of his front teeth, most likely from a fight.

His motley crew wasn't in much better condition. They weren't nearly as tall as the leader, but were still average size. They carried an assortment of swords and bows, with one even having a crossbow.

Both the Red Hounds, and the Four Blades had dealt with bandits before. The best strategy was to show them that the fight just wasn't worth it and to scare them off. No one really wanted to fight, they would do what they could to avoid it. The mercenaries had taken a standard formation with Nick and Dave at the rear, Ronan was in front of them as their protection. Roger took the lead with Tim, Katy, and Ellen at his sides. Derrick was in the middle, ready to jump in with whatever the situation called for.

The magician hadn't shown himself once the five days they'd been traveling, so Roger wasn't counting on his help at all. Roger knew that he would only lift a hand to help if the caravan was in a dire situation. Roger wasn't worried at all though, now was the time for him to show the last member of his group since the bandits weren't frightened off.

"Marcus! We need you up here, if you would." Roger yelled out, turning his head but not taking his eyes off the leader.

Marcus came out from behind the head wagon, taking his time to come up to the front next to Roger. On his way to the front he was cracking his knuckles and swinging his five foot long sixty pound warhammer. With every swing, the wind would make a whooshing sound, telling everyone present just how fast it was going. Marcus towered over everyone present, the bandit leader was the only one that came close.

"Ha, we still outnumber you. This big fucker won't make a difference!" The bandit leader said, trying to stymie the shake in his voice. He'd always thought that he was the biggest around, he'd never seen anyone that was larger than him. He always took it as a point of pride to be able to intimidate people with his size alone. So when he came across someone not just a little bigger, but much bigger. His pride took a hit and he wasn't about to take it lying down.

"I bet you're too stupid to do anything but swing that hammer!" The bandit leader shouted out, unsheathing his sword.

Hearing this, Marcus took great offense. He always hated it when someone would think that he was stupid just because he liked to lift weights. It was one of the things that would instantly piss him off. The plan was for Marcus to make an appearance if the bandits didn't back down when they first met the group. Roger was thinking that with his size and sudden appearance, the bandits would be caught off guard and back off. Then if they still didn't back off, then Nick and Dave would take out the enemy archers, then in the confusion they would attack.

Nick and Dave knocked their arrows and were about to start when Marcus stepped forward. He was supposed to step back so that they would have a clearer shot.

"Marcus." Roger said sharply, wanting to get his attention so that he'd come back. The enemy archers had their bows already at the ready. They were just waiting for the signal from their boss. Marcus ignored Roger, and with a great burst of speed from his tree trunk sized legs, closed the distance between himself and the bandit leader. They were about fifty feet apart and Marcus covered it in less than a second.

The bandit leader had his sword at the ready, but was unable to react in time. Marcus was looming over him with his warhammer in a double handed grip raised over his head. Veines were bulging out of Marcus's arms, and his grip made his knuckles white. With a scowl on his face, Marcus swung down with all his might.

The bandit leader's head exploded like a water balloon, spattering blood and brain matter everywhere. As the head of the warhammer continued down, it pulverised whatever was in its path. The bandit's body was split apart by the force of the blow, with the middle of his body turning into pulp. Blood, bones, and organs were ejected in all directions and the smell of the bandit's bowles were permeating throughout the area.

Everyone was shocked. They'd seen battle before and all the blood and gore that came along with it. This was something different though. The bandit was practically turned inside out, his organs were clear to see to everyone. There, Marcus stood covered in blood and viscera. He picked a little piece of bone and hair off his shoulder, then looked over at the rest of the bandits that were still standing still, not knowing what to do.

The bandits took that as a signal and dropped their weapons and took off in all directions. They knew that they may be able to kill Marcus if they all took him on, but with the other mercenaries there, it wasn't worth it. Plus after seeing their leader turned into paste, they lost their will to fight.

Marcus watched as the bandits escaped, he wasn't about to chase after them, neither were the others. Marcus had meant to kill the bandit, he had prepared himself so he wasn't too bothered by the fact that he killed another person. What bothered him was how gross it was. He wasn't expecting for the bandit to explode like that, at least not in the moment. Thinking back on it, of course it would happen like that. It was like a cannonball had hit the bandit from point blank range.

Feeling a little sick to his stomach, Marcus started to try and wipe the blood off himself. If he didn't get the blood off he wouldn't be able to stand his own scent. Turning around, he made eye contact with the rest of the group. They were acting just like when they saw him with the log on the first night, standing there with mouths wide open. Roger was the first to speak.

"Well, that went better than I'd hoped. Sort of." He said, still with a shocked expression.

"Everyone! Keep an eye out. They might have run off for now, but they could be back. Don't let your guard down! Marcus, go get cleaned up. I think the merchants have some spare water you could use." Roger said, pointing towards the last wagon.

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry. I went a little overboard with that. He just really pissed me off."

"It went fine this time, and we have you to thank for that, but you need to make sure to follow the plan. You could have been killed if they didn't run off and rushed you instead. Though I doubt it." Roger said this as he pat Marcus on the back as he walked by.

Marcus made his way past the lead wagon towards the back to get cleaned up. Roger had the others gather up the weapons that the bandits threw down. They would fetch a good price, plus they didn't want the bandits to come back later to get them.

After cleaning up Marcus rejoined the others. He got to claim the broadsword that he leader was carrying, the others would be sold off and the group would split the profits. After making sure that everything was in order, Roger had everyone help move the tree out of the way, retake their positions, and the caravan moved out.