Snake Plissken

19th of The Deep Cold, 1523 As the sun set over the eastern road, two bandits stood sentry in front of their barricade, engaged in idle conversation and not really paying attention to their surroundings. First, two crossbow bolts whistled out of the trees and landed in one sentry's chest. As he fell, another two bolts followed, knocking the second bandit to the ground. As the men inside the barricade were alerted to the presence of an attacking force, four men charged past the fallen sentries; an Ashford soldier, two men in the uniform of the former 48th Imperial Regiment, and a traveler with no obvious allegiances. The first uniformed man kicked the cauldron off the bandits' fire, splashing boiling water onto the man behind it. Leaping forward, he threw his crossbow at a second bandit's face, stunning him, and then cleaved into his neck with his falchion. After stomping in the burned bandit's head, the soldier turned back to his comrades and found that they had dispatched of the remaining bandits. His 48th comrade had taken an arrow in the belly, though his brigandine had absorbed most of the impact, and it had failed to penetrate deeply. The soldier took a moment to tend to his friend's wound while barking orders at the other two, who took up defensive positions inside the barricade. The bodies of the bandits were piled up at the entrances, and the four men prepared for an assault by the bandits returning from patrol. One bandit in strange 'Eastern' armour emerged to the rear of the barricade, the senior 48th soldier and the Ashford bannerman opening fire on him before he had a chance to flee. The bandit fell to the ground with two bolts in his back, and the soldier vaulted the barricade to run out and behead him, believing him to be the 'Eastern bandit leader' mentioned in the bounty. After savagely decapitating the bandit with his falchion, the soldier dived back inside the barricade and discovered he had been mistaken, as the head belonged to no Easterner, just a bandit in Eastern armour. Only then did the traveler notice smoke rising to the north, realizing this barricade to be nothing more than an outpost, the true fort lying further of the road. Before embarking towards their real objective, the band of bounty-hunters took a moment to call over a bandit patrol passing by, tricking them into thinking they were the original guards of the barricade, and then cutting them down in a flurry of crossbow bolts as they approached. After reloading, the men set off up the road once more, moving back into the forest and watching for movement beyond the treeline. They saw two brigands standing guard down the road from the fort, and it quickly became apparent they were having an argument. One bandit stabbed the other, only to receive a bolt in his back from the leader of the bounty-hunters. The men continued through the woods right up to the gates of the bandit fort, luring out a party of brigands and ambushing them. In a few moments the ground was littered with bandit corpses, and their surviving comrades retreated into the fort. At that point, the bounty-hunters split; the traveler and the wounded 48th soldier set off one way, while the Ashford bannerman and the group's leader went the other. They made their way around behind the fort, spying a sentry on top of the cart used as a barricade, as well as a man bearing Eastern armour on the other side of the palisade, surrounded by a handful of other bandits. The Ashfordman shot the sentry off the cart, allowing the leader to pull himself up and fire at the Easterner. The bolt met it's mark, but did little except ding the Easterner's nippon steel helm, causing him to fly into a rage as the bounty-hunters retreated into the woods once more. Returning to the front of the fort the Ashfordman tripped on a branch, breaking his leg and causing the 48th soldier to go on alone. Reaching their former position, he reloaded his crossbow and watched as the Eastern Warlord came storming out of the gates, his strange curved sword raised while shouting in a strange accent. The soldier raised his crossbow and took another shoot, but again it did little but dent the Warlord's armour. Cursing, the soldier finally left the cover of the woods, drawing his bastard sword and engaging the Easterner in single combat. The Warlord was first to attack, charging forward with an overhead swing at the soldier's head. The 48th veteran sidestepped the Warlord, slashing the back of his thighs as he continued past. Raising his blade again, the soldier feigned a stab at the Easterner's chest, then going to slash his neck with the tip of his sword. The Warlord, in his attempt to parry the stab, only pushed the soldier's blade further into his own neck, blood spewing from the wound as he collapsed onto his knees. After gurgling some incoherent words, the Easterner toppled onto the ground, dead, and the soldier turned back to the fort, joined again by the traveler and the other 48th veteran, having returned to clearing out another barricade. The leader demanded the remaining bandits throw down their arms and exit the fortress, and they complied, but as they lined up outside the gate the soldier ordered his comrades to open fire, and the bandits were cut down in a storm of bolts. A few managed to get away, escaping away into the woods, but most fell as they fled. Half an hour later, the fort had been looted and was on fire, the bounty-hunters walking away victorious, the Easterner's head and the scalps of his followers in a hessian sack slung over the leader's shoulder.

22nd of The Amber Cold, 1523 A lone Marked Man trudged through the forest north of Felsen, seeking out the troll's cavern, eventually coming to a fallen tree beside a rocky outcrop just before sunrise. Drawing his aurum sword from it's scabbard on his back, the monster hunter descended into the tunnel at the foot of the outcrop, assuming a mid-guard in preparation. Upon reaching the end of the tunnel however, the Marked Man found it empty; scattered rotten meat, broken bones, various foul excrement, but no troll. Realizing he would be cornered if the troll returned, the one-eyed hunter sprinted back up the tunnel, just in time to feel the troll's heavy footsteps approaching. The Marked Man dove down behind the fallen tree at the cave's mouth, clutching his sword close to his body. He peered up through the leaves, his face camouflaged by his dark hair and the green bandanna covering his missing eye. The hunter watched on as the troll wandered out of the woods, a dead sheep slung over it's shoulder, and descended down into his cave. Soon after the sun emerged over the horizon, and the Marked Man began assembling his tools. He lay out his bow and a pre-nocked aurum-tipped arrow beside his blade on the grass, and as the sun rose up into the sky he came back to stand in the cavern's mouth. Rubbing his hands together, he extended his palms outwards and muttered a quiet word, a loud cracking sound being emitted from the space where a torrent of fire proceeded to erupt, filling the mouth of the tunnel and rocketing down into it's depths. As the booming cries of the roasting troll came from below, the hunter cut off his stream and fled back behind the fallen tree, grabbing up his bow and perching himself on top of the trunk. As the troll came charging out of the cavern's mouth, the Marked raised his bow and drew the nock of the arrow back to his cheek, releasing it as soon as he had a clear shot. The arrow whistled through the air and planted itself directly between the troll's eyes, barely a moment before the creature moved out into the sun, and quickly turned to stone. Lowering his bow, the hunter stood on the fallen tree admiring the stone statue with the shaft of an arrow protruding from it's face. Soon enough, he came down, drew his bowie knife, and used the pommel to break off the troll's hand as proof of the kill. After gathering up his weapons once more, the Marked Man set off back towards Felsen to claim his bounty, the stone hand of the troll in his own.

22nd of The Amber Cold, 1523 A lone Marked Man trudged through the forest north of Felsen, seeking out the troll's cavern, eventually coming to a fallen tree beside a rocky outcrop just before sunrise. Drawing his aurum sword from it's scabbard on his back, the monster hunter descended into the tunnel at the foot of the outcrop, assuming a mid-guard in preparation. Upon reaching the end of the tunnel however, the Marked Man found it empty; scattered rotten meat, broken bones, various foul excrement, but no troll. Realizing he would be cornered if the troll returned, the one-eyed hunter sprinted back up the tunnel, just in time to feel the troll's heavy footsteps approaching. The Marked Man dove down behind the fallen tree at the cave's mouth, clutching his sword close to his body. He peered up through the leaves, his face camouflaged by his dark hair and the green bandanna covering his missing eye. The hunter watched on as the troll wandered out of the woods, a dead sheep slung over it's shoulder, and descended down into his cave. Soon after the sun emerged over the horizon, and the Marked Man began assembling his tools. He lay out his bow and a pre-nocked aurum-tipped arrow beside his blade on the grass, and as the sun rose up into the sky he came back to stand in the cavern's mouth. Rubbing his hands together, he extended his palms outwards and muttered a quiet word, a loud cracking sound being emitted from the space where a torrent of fire proceeded to erupt, filling the mouth of the tunnel and rocketing down into it's depths. As the booming cries of the roasting troll came from below, the hunter cut off his stream and fled back behind the fallen tree, grabbing up his bow and perching himself on top of the trunk. As the troll came charging out of the cavern's mouth, the Marked raised his bow and drew the nock of the arrow back to his cheek, releasing it as soon as he had a clear shot. The arrow whistled through the air and planted itself directly between the troll's eyes, barely a moment before the creature moved out into the sun, and quickly turned to stone. Lowering his bow, the hunter stood on the fallen tree admiring the stone statue with the shaft of an arrow protruding from it's face. Soon enough, he came down, drew his bowie knife, and used the pommel to break off the troll's hand as proof of the kill. After gathering up his weapons once more, the Marked Man set off back towards Felsen to claim his bounty, the stone hand of the troll in his own.

18th of The Amber Cold, 1523 Five men; a wood elf, a Marked Man, and three warriors of the Caliphate, ascended the mountain of the griffin's nest, climbing in single file. Approaching the summit, they discovered the perch to be empty and took position inside, planning to ambush the creature upon it's return. Soon enough the sound of flapping wings could be heard in the distance, accompanied by an faint, "Screeee!". Swords drawn, arrows knocked, arbalests loaded, spears poised, the hunters braced themselves for the oncoming fight. Within a minute the creature was upon them, swooping in and then disappearing over the side of the nest, out of sight. The men scrambled into the centre, scanning all around for signs of where the beast might re-emerge, but before it could, something else caught their eyes; an even larger griffin, flying in from the south. The original griffin let out of another harrowing screech, soaring up over the edge of the nest and diving back down at the hunters, it's talons splayed and ready to strike. Two of the Caliphate's warriors threw their spears at the smaller griffin, the third firing his arbalest at the large one. At the same time the Marked Man released an arrow at the diving beast with his longbow, and the wood elf raised his shield in defense, preparing for impact. One spear managed to pierce the smaller griffin's wing, and the arrow found it's mark on the other, while both the bolt from the arbalest and the second spear missed their intended targets. Swooping in low, the small griffin tried to impale the elf on it's claws, though it's attempt was blocked by his shield, and the beast continued hovering in place, scratching and stabbing at the metal barrier with it's talons. Meanwhile the larger griffin dived in and grabbed the first of the spearmen with it's own claws, carrying him up into the sky before dropping him to his death at the foot of the mountain. As the archgriffin arced bacl around and made a beeline back for the mountain's peak, the Marked Man nocked a second arrow in his bow and attempted to shoot the smaller griffin's head, though the shaft was blown off course by the beating of the creature's wings and flew back over the edge of the nest. The small griffin continued to push it's weight down on top of the wood elf, who lashed out with his sword, striking at it’s beak. Swooping in again the archgriffin grabbed the second spearman and carried him off to the same fate as the first before soaring down at the nest a third timee, now going for the final Caliphate warrior. The beast's talons sliced through the man's chainmail and into his arm, though ultimately the creature was deterred from grabbing him and instead landed in the nest. Finally the smaller of the two griffins was pushed from the wood elf's shield, stabbed and cleaved by his sword, and sent stumbling over the wall of the nest, plummeting to it's death. All three of the remaining men turned their attention to the archgriffin, the Caliphate man going to spear it in the chest, the Marked dropping his bow and sending a torrent of fire at the beast from his palm, and the wood elf slicing into the monster's wing with his blade. The beast went to take flight once more, it's feathers singed and flesh punctured, but as it did so the Marked Man charged forward, leaping onto it's back and digging a hook into it's flesh. As the griffin sprung off the nest he grabbed hold of it's feathers with his free hand and clung on for his life while it carried him away, holding himself close to it's body as it soared towards the forest below, twisting and turning, trying to rid itself of the uninvited passenger. The Marked Man slowly made his way forward, climbing up the creature, digging the hook into the base of it's neck and pulling it back towards himself, causing the beast to rear up before crashing down into the forest. The two remaining men in the nest rushed down the mountain towards the site of the landing as fast as they could, the dust having settled by the time of their arrival. They found the griffin impaled on the remains of a tree, letting out it's final screech before slumping over, dead. A few metres away the Marked Man lay unconscious, but miraculously very much alive. After an hour of griffin-beheading, mending wounds, and searching for the corpses of the two deceased spearmen, the survivors set off back towards the Caliphate, having succeeding in making the region that much safer, and earned themselves a hefty sum in the process.

14th of The Amber Cold, 1523Two Marked Men stood on the bloody battlefield, looking down at the old Savoyard camp, now cloaked in a strangely thick layer of fog considering the otherwise clear-weathered day. Heading down into the fog, they took up a back-to-back formation, aurum blades raised defensively, scanning around for the creature they knew lurked within the cloud. Coming to stand in the centre of the the ruined encampment, the monster hunters stopped, looking for any sign of the hideous 'boggen'. A blood-curdling scream and the sound of rending flesh came from one of the tents and the duo slowly began edging towards it. Before they could reach the source of the cries, the tent collapsed and suddenly a hideous necrophage-like beast appeared to their right-flank, slashing at the pair with it's gnarled claws. The older hunter slashed at the beast's arms with his blade, causing it to dissipate into a cloud of fog and revealing it to be no more than an illusion. Able to regain themselves momentarily, another identical beast emerged in front of the pair, but was dispatched just as quickly, again by the older Marked, who dropped onto a knee and slashed across the creature's abdomen with his blade. Before he could pull himself back up another creature sprung out of the fog on the opposite side of the duo, charging with it's claws outstretched. The younger hunter hurled a small pouch at it's chest, erupting into a cloud of dust with some vague magical properties, however this failed to prevent the monster from lashing out at the older Marked, who narrowly escaped the creature's claws by rolling back over his shoulder. The younger of the pair then raised his blade and sent it in a left-to-right slash towards the creature, cleaving into the beast's torso without causing it to dissipate, revealing it to be the true boggen. However this attack failed to deter the creature, which slashed across the younger hunter's face with it's clawed digits, along with the forearm he had raised in his defense. The older man dived to the creature's right and slashed across it's thigh with his blade, hamstringing the beast in the process and sending it shambling backwards to disappear into a cloud of fog. The hunters quickly recovered and brought themselves back-to-back once more, scanning around for signs of the creature and noticing a trail of blood to their right. The younger man took the lead, rushing after the wounded beast, his sword raised. As they pursued the creature out of the camp and into the woods, two more beasts leaped out at the leading hunter, one from either side, one managing to sink it's teeth into his shoulder. The older man bounded forward from behind, cleaving off the arm of the second beast, it's lack of disappearance again revealing it to be the true boggen and causing the illusion biting the younger Marked to dissipate. The boggen tried to disappear and flee once again, but the blood spewing from it's wounds gave it away, and the hunters quickly chased it down. As the younger Marked pierced the monster's side with his blade, the elder cleaved through it's torso, sending blood and guts spewing out onto the forest floor and felling the beast in two halves. The old Marked finished the creature off by raising his sword and piercing it through the chest, then beheading the creature and setting off to claim the bounty.

14th of The Amber Cold, 1523 Two Marked Men stood on the bloody battlefield, looking down at the old Savoyard camp, now cloaked in a strangely thick layer of fog considering the otherwise clear-weathered day. Heading down into the fog, they took up a back-to-back formation, aurum blades raised defensively, scanning around for the creature they knew lurked within the cloud. Coming to stand in the centre of the the ruined encampment, the monster hunters stopped, looking for any sign of the hideous 'boggen'. A blood-curdling scream and the sound of rending flesh came from one of the tents and the duo slowly began edging towards it. Before they could reach the source of the cries, the tent collapsed and suddenly a hideous necrophage-like beast appeared to their right-flank, slashing at the pair with it's gnarled claws. The older hunter slashed at the beast's arms with his blade, causing it to dissipate into a cloud of fog and revealing it to be no more than an illusion. Able to regain themselves momentarily, another identical beast emerged in front of the pair, but was dispatched just as quickly, again by the older Marked, who dropped onto a knee and slashed across the creature's abdomen with his blade. Before he could pull himself back up another creature sprung out of the fog on the opposite side of the duo, charging with it's claws outstretched. The younger hunter hurled a small pouch at it's chest, erupting into a cloud of dust with some vague magical properties, however this failed to prevent the monster from lashing out at the older Marked, who narrowly escaped the creature's claws by rolling back over his shoulder. The younger of the pair then raised his blade and sent it in a left-to-right slash towards the creature, cleaving into the beast's torso without causing it to dissipate, revealing it to be the true boggen. However this attack failed to deter the creature, which slashed across the younger hunter's face with it's clawed digits, along with the forearm he had raised in his defense. The older man dived to the creature's right and slashed across it's thigh with his blade, hamstringing the beast in the process and sending it shambling backwards to disappear into a cloud of fog. The hunters quickly recovered and brought themselves back-to-back once more, scanning around for signs of the creature and noticing a trail of blood to their right. The younger man took the lead, rushing after the wounded beast, his sword raised. As they pursued the creature out of the camp and into the woods, two more beasts leaped out at the leading hunter, one from either side, one managing to sink it's teeth into his shoulder. The older man bounded forward from behind, cleaving off the arm of the second beast, it's lack of disappearance again revealing it to be the true boggen and causing the illusion biting the younger Marked to dissipate. The boggen tried to disappear and flee once again, but the blood spewing from it's wounds gave it away, and the hunters quickly chased it down. As the younger Marked pierced the monster's side with his blade, the elder cleaved through it's torso, sending blood and guts spewing out onto the forest floor and felling the beast in two halves. The old Marked finished the creature off by raising his sword and piercing it through the chest, then beheading the creature and setting off to claim the bounty.

16th of Malin's Welcome, 1523A group of four Marked Men, accompanied by an old human knight and a dwarven alchemist, creep into the Leshen's wood during the early hours of the morning, moving between the cover of bushes and tree trunks while scanning the space for their prey. Two of the men eventually make their way out into the clearing, inhabited by three strange animal-skull totems and the corpses of two men suspended by vines. The men cut down a totem each while third man makes his way into the open, shooting the last totem with his crossbow. The vines retract into the ground as the last totem falls, the corpses seeming to disintegrate as they are dropped, becoming no more than a pile of unrecognizable meat. The cawing of crows overhead becomes gradually louder, and suddenly a swarm of the birds swoop down and manifest into a horrific creature. Two of the Marked open up on the creature with torrents of fire shooting from their palms, but it dissipates as quickly as it had appeared, only to form again behind the men. The creature digs it's arms down into the soil, vines shooting up around it and grabbing at the legs of it's attackers. One man tries to advance on the creature from the rear, but his sweeping blow does little to harm it. A vial of flametongue is hurled at the beast by the leader of the hunters, exploding on it's back and causing it to erupt into a black cloud of squawks once again. A giant hive hung high in the trees above them begins to shake and then releases a swarm of hornets, but the Marked move decisively and one man quickly dispatches the hive with a torrent of fire, destroying the hive before the insects can hinder them. The creature reappears and goes to attack the fire-evoker, grabbing him and flinging him against a tree, but not before having a bowie knife stabbed into it's arm. The ashen-haired hunter arced his run as his comrade was thrown, as two other Marked hacked at it he propelled himself off the corpse of a dead deer, raising his sword above his head. He soared through the air before cleaving straight down on the beast's skull, splitting it clean in half. The beast fell to the ground and was reduced to no more than a smoldering husk on the forest floor. With he Lord of the Wood defeated, the Marked Men added another successful contract to their resume.

16th of Malin's Welcome, 1523 A group of four Marked Men, accompanied by an old human knight and a dwarven alchemist, creep into the Leshen's wood during the early hours of the morning, moving between the cover of bushes and tree trunks while scanning the space for their prey. Two of the men eventually make their way out into the clearing, inhabited by three strange animal-skull totems and the corpses of two men suspended by vines. The men cut down a totem each while third man makes his way into the open, shooting the last totem with his crossbow. The vines retract into the ground as the last totem falls, the corpses seeming to disintegrate as they are dropped, becoming no more than a pile of unrecognizable meat. The cawing of crows overhead becomes gradually louder, and suddenly a swarm of the birds swoop down and manifest into a horrific creature. Two of the Marked open up on the creature with torrents of fire shooting from their palms, but it dissipates as quickly as it had appeared, only to form again behind the men. The creature digs it's arms down into the soil, vines shooting up around it and grabbing at the legs of it's attackers. One man tries to advance on the creature from the rear, but his sweeping blow does little to harm it. A vial of flametongue is hurled at the beast by the leader of the hunters, exploding on it's back and causing it to erupt into a black cloud of squawks once again. A giant hive hung high in the trees above them begins to shake and then releases a swarm of hornets, but the Marked move decisively and one man quickly dispatches the hive with a torrent of fire, destroying the hive before the insects can hinder them. The creature reappears and goes to attack the fire-evoker, grabbing him and flinging him against a tree, but not before having a bowie knife stabbed into it's arm. The ashen-haired hunter arced his run as his comrade was thrown, as two other Marked hacked at it he propelled himself off the corpse of a dead deer, raising his sword above his head. He soared through the air before cleaving straight down on the beast's skull, splitting it clean in half. The beast fell to the ground and was reduced to no more than a smoldering husk on the forest floor. With he Lord of the Wood defeated, the Marked Men added another successful contract to their resume.

and they lived happily ever after