The Devouring Knight

Ravenshade Outskirts - Late afternoon

Dust and hoofbeats rolled in as a dozen mounted figures crested the ridge, the captains. hobgoblin warriors and kobold berserkers in mismatched armor atop sturdy boars, and a few on horseback, their elite squad finally arriving.

Lumberling stepped forward to meet them, his cloak flaring behind him in the breeze.

"Alright, listen up," he called out, voice clear and commanding. "You have one job today: grab anything valuable. Prioritize Knight Skill Manuals, then gold, heirlooms, ledgers, anything that looks worth hauling."

A few soldiers let out excited whoops.

"But," he added, holding up a finger, "always keep yourselves safe. Don’t wander off. Stick together. Let our elf friends handle the fighting. Consider this your front-row seat to a magic show."

There were a few exchanged glances, anticipation in their eyes.

Lumberling continued, "Once the battle starts, the neighboring territory’s bound to notice. If the Empire’s Knights catch sight of the mages, they’ll respond fast. So move quick, grab what you can, and pull back early. Got it?"

"Hehe... already assuming the Earl’s dead, are we?" Skitz grinned, flicking his dagger between fingers. "Bit hasty, don’t you think? The man might have a few strong Knights hiding up his silk sleeves."

"If he did, he’d have sent them to burn our village down months ago," Lumberling replied coolly. "Even if he has them now... they won’t stand a chance."

Skitz raised a brow. "You’re that confident in our odds?"

"Yes," Lumberling said.