The Bandit's Assaults' on Coedwig

Gresvin, his muscles tensing in anticipation, stood on the tower. He hefted his hunting bow and knocked an arrow. He scoured the grasslands, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun. He could see a few paths treading through the grass as it kept getting closer and closer.

The bandits were still a distance away, but once they ventured into the fields where the crops grew, a few would fall to the point of an arrow. Gresvin took his time; he did not need to waste arrows and could wait for them to reveal themselves to him.

Below, the first bandits emerged from the grass, a ragged band of ruffians armed with a mix of swords, axes, and crudely crafted bows. A guttural war cry ripped through the air, the sound heavy with malice. 'Forest Bandits!' Gresvin's eyes narrowed.

He instinctively shouted for Marcus to hear, "Forest Bandits!"