The King of the Wilds [Craevan]

[Odgar]

1st day of Spring, AV 511 Odgar was walking the forestroad towards Sunberth, the sun clouded by gray clouds of the afternoon. Roughly 3 miles from the city, Odgar had decided to take what he believed could be a shortcut through the woods that cradled along a mountainside, following an old and thin trail away from the mainroad. He was humming a light tune, his troubleling thoughts and worries pushed aside in a moment of tranquility as he traversed among the trees. The calm rustling of leaves brushed by the wind and gentle sounds of birds and critters in the forest eased his mind. He reached a small riverbank, where an old bridge had once been and crossed over. Now it was a pile of sorry remains and molden wood, digested by time. As he stood there and was about to cross over, he heard something. The snapping of a twig, perhaps? It was not much of a sound, but his years as a caravan guard had taught him that many dangers of the forest were skilled in being unnoticed. He turned to look from where it had came, but he could not estimate it. Odgar touched the shaft of his axe that was strapped to his back, his hand instinctively making sure of where to take hold of his weapon. Images of the bandit assault started to flash through his mind now. The thoughts that had been pushed back now came fully back to him, as if it had happened yesterday. Their caravan had not seen the enemies before they were on them. It had not been a long battle. It had been a massacre, his fellow guards and the merchants they protected slaughtered at the hands of the massive bandit group. They had been skilled at arms, better than most highwaymen and well-organised. Odgar had been the only survivor, mostly through luck. That had been two weeks ago. Now as the potentional threat of another ambush loomed over him, he would not be caught offguard again. He drew his weapon slowly, feeling every one of his movements were being watched by unfriendly eyes. The trees suddenly seemed unnervingly silent, leaves still rustling as if concealing the steps of a hidden predator.