Day 25
The raid we had been seeking for so long was unfolding unusually quickly. There were over fifty Blood Elves, accompanied by at least a hundred human mercenaries. As if that were not enough, a contingent of paladins was on its way with the purpose of eliminating all evil at the keep. Each had their reasons—most did it for money, we for power.
As we traveled through the Dark Forest before the prairies, I looked everywhere for those elusive creatures said to inhabit the dumps. I was very curious to meet them. However, the group was so large that I doubted any would approach. Still, those dumps had a purpose: to arm all these low-level mercenaries. They were not bad. Most of them could easily use iron armor, but I saw them with miserable bronze armor mostly, or only one or two pieces of iron or even silver. But I attributed that to their vices—pawned pieces of their livelihood—not to ineptitude with weapons. Proof of this was the great number of anonymous corpses thrown in the city's ditches for offending these very fine people. The same ones who here took advantage, picking through, looking for protection because if they had not sold anything, it was their weapons: spiked maces, several longbows, swords and broadswords, axes, and even a few sabers that looked exactly what they were... mercenaries seeking loot.
As we entered the forest, I managed to establish some contacts with those I thought were extinct—the Forest Elves. Most did not want us. But as with everything, there was a group impressed by the flashy clothing and the demonstration that our expedition could crush them. By the time we reached the center of their civilization, most had fled, but some of the more sensible ones remained. They gave us details of everything brewing in that forest of darkness. They assured us there were treasures in abundance, that the enemies attacked one by one, that they fled at the touch of cold steel. In short, they said everything we told them to say—the bait that would give the mercenaries a goal. They would not accompany us to battle, but they contributed enchanted leather armor, which only we elves used—not because humans could not, but it was simply too expensive for mere humans to use such items. We left a small regiment and departed.
Day 26
We reached the plains. The mercenaries were a little restless and went out looking for entertainment. All afternoon, we saw them searching caves for goblins or any creature threatening enough, or failing that, that seemed to contain something worth annihilating. While the horses rested, I saw them eliminate lizards, some snakes, and famished wolves. But they did not find those little imps that had caused the death of the Wolf Clan. The only thing worth mentioning was when one of them discovered a queen spider in a cave. Asking my permission to annihilate it, I could say nothing but "go ahead."
The battle was fierce, but there was not much a two-and-a-half-meter spider could do. Originally designed as a curiosity by the elves, this animal trapped any enemy that would serve as food for it and its young. It was not very dangerous, but its fur was very tough and cushioned arrows and any one-handed weapons. Its legs ended in claws originally meant to manipulate spider silk. The venom in its jaws could be injected by biting, or alternatively, spit in small, accurate jets. For the little you got from this animal, it was not worth attacking. However, it was important to know the performance of this company of warriors.
The so-called tanks were warriors with enormous shields. With a mace, they deflected minor blows or from small spiders. With their shields, they blocked legs. The warriors with two-handed swords struck with force all over the body—legs, abdomen, eyes—it did not matter. The thing was to reduce the monster. The archers, seeing that their projectiles did not penetrate the queen spider's fur, dedicated themselves to riddling her young. Each young killed seemed to enrage the creature, which began jumping, trying to fall on the slowest attackers. Yet even when they were struck, they got up quickly to continue fighting. It was obvious they were professionals. They endured pain like few in all Stormhammer. They were a good choice.
The combat lasted an hour. Most emerged unscathed. When one of the warriors deeply buried his weapon in the arachnid's head, it simply closed its eyes, and the feast began. All brought out sacks and reached into the beast's entrails and its young. The most powerful entered the cave and emerged with the spider's eggs, which due to their magical properties were highly valued in magic shops. The ichors, venom sacs, and spider legs would end up in the tannery, the potion shop, and the armory respectively. A small part of them noted everything on lists and left that very night for the city. It was a category C prize—enough to earn around five gold each, plus everything they had sent with the merchant warriors. In summary, it was a great day for the meticulous looters.
Day 27
Finally, I could see the forests in the distance. They were a smudge, so on horseback, we still had a journey of at least two or three days. However, I did not intend to take the risks of my predecessors. If indeed the magic moving in those places was demonic, we needed the power of the heroic paladin corps in service to their god and the king of Bloody Coin. At least, that was what was written in the scroll I sent with messengers. It was important that they come, that they witness the evil. For me, they were not envoys of justice—they were rather "cannon fodder," muscles we would use thanks to their fanaticism while the mercenaries attacked from the other sector. So I only had to sit and wait—or rather, sit and recover as much strength as possible before collecting the corpses and the loot.