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Part Fifteen: "The Ravagers"

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Unknown to both running Ivan as well as Nyrina keeping up with him while they headed westward, goddess Gaia's words from the dream world would prove correct. As he leapt over fallen trees, cut through bramble and kept repeatedly telling her to go back to the dynamic, the human would need the otter daughter at his side this day. He would need her more than ever if Sunseed were to be brought back home alive. For where it had been made a certainty that there was a large, flying, bird like predator in the area a moment ago, there was yet another threat present in the woodlands; the Ravagers.

Who were the Ravagers, someone would ask? Why, they were only the fiercest brawlers, fighters along with killers, of course, whose ranks consisted of rats, ferrets, weasels, an ursine or two and wolves most of all! Yes, wolves, the cunning, bold, true warriors of the north whom humanity had always been at odds with.

Well, being the fiercest of bandits had been the Ravagers' reputation in the northern realm of Tundran three months ago, anyway. That was no longer really the case today. Not when they weren't in the northern realm anymore. Indeed, their rep for being vicious had been secured in the north. That was before they'd decided to daringly travel southwards through the human barricades into the southern lands, River Country, where they'd knew everything would be greener, warmer along with easier for them to raid. And their lives for the last three months had been that way; refreshing, warmer along with easy.

It was true. When they'd started the project of journeying from Tundran to River Country, the Ravagers had faced a rather hard challenge of cutting their way through the Norlinthian border watch that was stationed in the Valley of Ruin to keep their ilk in the north. Back then, when they'd fought their way past the human kept borderline, when they'd faced the onslaught of the humans "fire sticks" that were muskets and cannons, there had been a hundred of the feared raiders whose numbers had been whittled down to about thirty.

Nevertheless, nowadays, business was good for the former pillagers of the northern realm. Even with human forces having tried to hunt them down in the past up to this day, the remaining Ravagers had successfully kept a low profile and stayed hidden. Having taken in local recruits from the woodlands during their time of hiding away, their forces had swelled from thirty survivors back into decent strength now. And it was as Ivan along with Nyrina dashed away from the Dynamic in the western direction in search of Sunbeam's little brother, it just so happened - goddess almighty - that they were unknowingly heading straight for a Ravager scouting party!

Leading the said scouting party of bandits, seated at a cooking fire with his fifteen Ravager minions hovering about in the local area foraging for anything useful, was a larger than large he-wolf. He was Flen D'gar, who had been the second in command of the Ravagers for years, who had killed many a foe, who had claimed many a prize, who was rumored to be - thanks to his pure white fur and blood red eyes - a descendant of the long lost direwolf tribes.

Regardless, even if he did indeed have the blood of such a powerful race running through his veins this very day, the white wolf had proven long ago that he was a true if not fearsome warrior of Tundran. With the large, round shield of oak reinforced with iron alongside his blunt yet devastating mace currently set at his side while he munched on a pigeon he'd cooked at the fire, he had even defeated an ursine bear warrior or two that'd dared to stand in his way. He had went on to cave in the skulls of the said bears all of whom would have done the same to him if the tables had been reversed.

Truly, where any other good Felldewan at heart would have earned promotion through justice, valor along with bravery, Flen hadn't earned his high position amongst his bandit peers by having been merciful nor honorable. He'd taken heads, intimidated rivals, just been a real monster in general to everyone. Most of all though, he was a loyal follower. A follower who hadn't ever questioned the actions of the real leader of the Ravagers; the infamous wolf known as Garn the Alpha.

Yet, where he himself didn't question the orders of the leader of the Ravagers, there was a certain someone in Flen's company who always did; a wiry, lean, twitchy ferret by the name of just "Hiktor" who was a brilliant tracker but had a personality that made him the most paranoid looking critter ever to walk the face of Felldew. Even now, shaking, jumping, constantly looking around at the woods with his wide, brown eyes like he was about to be jumped by something, the said ferret tracker appeared from the surrounding foliage. Making his way past his silently foraging companions, the tracker approached his white wolf leader.

"Er, uh, um, Flen, boss, sir..." Hiktor chattered away, his eyes never staying focused on one thing but moving everywhere as fast as he spoke, "I... I, uh, well, you see-"

"WHAT?! What do you have to report, scum?" Fen finally erupted impatiently, throwing the rest of his mostly eaten bird at the twitching tracker trying to say something, "Do you know how long you've been gone, sleeze? Eh, do you? Since last goddess damned night! I was about to go out into the woods just now to track down your deserting hide. Now you've saved me the trouble of having to hunt you down to kill you."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on, boss, sir, uh, um, I was gone for so long due to the fact that I, well, er..." The ferret said while constantly twitching, stepping back from his angry white furred leader, "The she-hare... she gave me a good knock over the head."

"What?" Flen snarled, looking confused before finally noticing the huge, painful looking lump standing out between Hiktor's ears, "She... Wait, hold on a moment, that mad hare lass knew you were trying to track her down last night?"

"Urm, yes, chief, boss, sir."

"And she gave you a mighty good whallop, did she?"

"That's right. Yes, yep, yeah, uh-huh."

"And you're supposed to the best tracker in this company, huh? You who just went off into the woods last night to track down the lass whose been causing all of us Ravagers trouble... and got knocked out by her in the process, hm? Does that sound like something the best tracker of this company would end up doing, Hiktor?"

"I-"

"No, it's not bloody well what the supposedly best tracker of this company would do, you twitchy, rat faced, no good excuse of a dragon's pile of dung!" Flen roared, now on his feet and kicking a burning piece of wood away from the campfire, "For the last week, ever since she boiled the commander's tail in hot water under all of our noses, myself and the rest of this scouting party have been chasing that blasted she-hare all over these woodlands, Hiktor. We thought you had her last night... Yet, here you come back to tell me that she's gone and vanished once more?"

"That's... Yeah, sir, that's the sum up of it all." Hiktor meekly admitted while half hidden in the nearby bushed, now very far away from his white wolf boss, "Truly, I thought I had her. Really, after you stabbed last night when she was invading our camp again, I was so very close to chasing her down but... but... she was waiting for me by the river, gave me a good thwack and... I even think she bathed me."

"What?" Flen growled, not at all humored by what had been suggested by his tracker, "Did you just say you think she bathed you?"

"I think so, sir. After I got knocked out cold, I had this crazy dream of her practically drowning me in the river, scrubbing my ears and yanking my tail." The twitchy ferret squeaked from the shrubs, not at all liking the glowing fire in his leader's crimson eyes, "Truly, I swear to you, she went and rubbed me down with soap while saying , "Jolly well can't leave you all smelling like a mess of stink in the middle of the forest late at night. Wouldn't be good on my conscience if you went and got eaten on my part, you know. A jolly good ol' scrubby-dub-dub will fix you up-"

"Shut up, Hik! Just stopping talking, you never were good at it and doing terrible now." Flen snapped, his tail lashing about angrily, "I don't care about what you maybe dreamed or didn't dream. Good for you. You got shown up by a mad hare maid as well as taunted by her, congrats. Tell me, from which direction did you come from? Where did you lose our prey?"

"Er, I lost track of the hare eastward, chief." Hiktor admitted, now lost to sight since he was hiding in the forest now, "There's a small stream that way where we could-"

"Gather supplies, get some water, maybe pick up the she-hare's trail once more and make up for your little blundering around last night? Yes, Hik, that sounds like a wonderful idea because it's MY idea!" Flen stated coldly while shoulder his shield and mace, turning to his company of fifteen followers next as he yelled, "Alright, you idiots. Maybe we've been on this mad hare hunt for three days thus far but we ain't goin' back to the boss until we've captured that meddlesome hare maid to bring back to the boss. I don't care if it takes us the rest of the week to do so. She needs to pay for ruining the boss's tail, you hear me?"

"Chief, what about Rowan?" A rat wondered next from across the fire pit, "That roc hasn't returned from scouting the area. I know he can fly and all but these woodlands are rather crammed together. He could lose track of us, couldn't he - YEOWCH!!!"

As the rat spoke his mind, it was not at all welcomed. With a mighty swing of his mace, with a snarl that turned everyone's blood to ice, the white wolf leader smashed the embers of the cooking fire towards the speaking rat who was hit with burning coals, ashes along with wood. As the unfortunate, burnt rat in question rolled upon the ground with much painful yelping, his leader growled loud enough for all of his company to hear.

"There's no reason to worry if that slave of a roc will be able to find us or not. If he's wise, he will eventually seek us out during the rest of today. He won't go back to the main camp without the she-hare in his claws for Garn would rip him apart, just like he'll do to all of us if we return to him without anything to show for our efforts. Now c'mon! Up on your paws, weapons at hand and-"

"Er, Chief Flen, sir, boss, what if... what if Rowan decides to try to fly away?" Hiktor actually questioned, still hidden so that he wouldn't be in danger of having the remainder of the fire shot at him like the hapless rat had experienced, "I know he's enslaved and all to Lord Garn but... that roc has become a bit rebellious lately. He's been saying something about the goddess visiting him in his dreams and that his freedom will soon be at hand-"

"Shut your gob, Hik, or I'll shut it for you, wretch! Plenty of Felldewans have claimed that goddess Gaia was on their side when they faced me in the past. Look at them now. They're all dead and I'm still breathing, aren't I?" The white wolf howled, swinging his mace expertly in his hand at the same time, "Whether he's seeing the goddess or not, Rowan still obeys master Garn, doesn't he? Yes, he does. And why? Because that roc has belonged to our leader since he first hatched from his egg twenty years back in the frozen reaches of Tundran. Rowan will not run away from Lord Garn. Oh he could fly away but he fears the consequences. He could be caught, he could be run down, he could be-"

"I just figure with how we've been having all of this trouble catching one she-hare for the last few days... Rowan would gain the nerve to make a run for it." Hiktor chattered from somewhere in the woods, not at all helping Flen's growing bad mood, "I mean, seriously, boss, I did my best last night to run her down with me knife but she went and overpowered me as easy as-"

"ENOUGH! Enough of this squabbling, enough of this wondering about things that haven't happened! If you didn't know, if none of you here can tell, I - Flen D'gar - am the right hand of the Ravagers. I am your superior, scum!" The white wolf barked, banging his mace against his shield to make tremendous ringing sounds for order, "And I say that we are going after that damned hare maid, capturing her ass, dragging her back to Lord Garn at which he will show the world what happens to those who mock him! Understand?!"

When no one said anything against their commander this time, when even Hiktor remained quiet in his hiding place somewhere, Flen nodded his head triumphantly. For the last three days, after she had attempted to ruin Lord Garn's tail previously, the white wolf as well as this scouting party had been chasing after the most frustrating, cunning hare lass in existence. Everyone was sick and tired of running after her, of getting shown up by her, of not having captured her yet. Still, the present Ravagers at hand were not in charge of anything. They were the troops, not the leaders. And as for their leader, narrowing his red eyes, he made one more thing clear to them.

"Now, the next one of you who opens his or her mouth and interrupts me when I'm giving orders... I'll give them a taste of my mace upside their head. And as you all know, I'll do that without hesitation."

Again, knowing that their leader was currently testing them in his own sick fashion, no one dared to even breath after Flen's statement. For he had cut down many of his followers who had spoken after his threat. With a whirl of his mace, with a sickening sound of his weapon connecting with flesh, he'd caved in many foolish mouths that'd dared to test his patience. Still, this day, with the morning sun rising ever higher into the eastern sky, no foolish mouth opened nor was it smashed by iron.

"Alright, ingrates." Flen snarled, hoisting his sizable mace up onto his shoulder, "We head east. We're going to pick up the she hare's trail and - For the love of the goddess, what now?!"

Within a heartbeat, with much snapping of tree limbs, with a howling of wind causing the surrounding trees to bend awkwardly against one another, a massive, dark brown feathered, yellow eyed hawk of a bird showed itself from above. Rowan, the Roc, had arrived back to the Ravager scouts just in time. Flapping his enormous wings that spanned twenty feet in total, lowering his hooked feet to the ground where he landed, the incredible creature - a native of Tundran like the rest of his hawkish kind - stood impressively amongst the stunned anima who eventually came out of the bushes back out into the open.

Despite their own fearsomeness, Rowan had frightened the Ravagers with his sudden arrival. Even Flen, being the monster that he was, had run for the nearby bushes where he'd actually tripped over Hiktor who had sped off elsewhere to avoid his nasty leader. No one present had favored having to fight something as war like as a roc of the northern lands at the moment. Now that they knew who had returned from flying over the local area though, now that they were aware that it was Rowan who had landed in their camp and towered over them at fifteen feet in height, the bandits regained their senses as well as ventured back out into the open.

"Blasted bird!" Flen barked at once in the roc's direction, being the first to smash back out of the surrounding bushes into the campsite while his followers eventually followed his example, "What was that all about, eh? You couldn't have swooped over like usual and give us a little warning before you nearly landed on our heads, eh?"

Instead of instantly replying to his supposed leader's words, the brown colored roc of the north did something else. Naturally, with a squirming, grunting, complaining he-mouse child clutched gently yet firmly by the tip of his beak, the massive predator bird had to lower his hostage to the ground. As the Ravagers observed Rowan put his victim upon the ground along with then trap the poor, trembling mouse child underneath his right claw, Flen's face went from showing a grimace to a very wicked grin.

"Well done, Rowan, mate. You went and caught us a local, did you?" The white wolf growled evilly, approaching the hostage trapped under the bird's claw. The victim in question was a little he-mouse boy with rather uniquely colored fur of gold-white. He had unkempt brown hair pushed back out his bluer than blue eyes. The scruff of his simple, brown hemp tunic was torn at the collar thanks to where Rowan had been hold him with his sword sharp beak a moment ago.

"One moment, I'm being criticized on how I fly. The next moment, I am being commended for capturing a simple, innocent, child of the woodlands." Rowan seethed, his narrowed eyes sparkling menacingly at the white wolf standing before him, "Make up your mind, Flen. Have I done a good job or a bad job this day? Rather, answer me this; did my sudden appearance scare you and your crew here? I would not blame you if you were a bit intimidated. I am an intimidating creature, after all. You all were rather quick in finding hiding places out of my sight, weren't you?"

"Mind what you say, bird." Flen growled, his honor having just been questioned by the warrior bird, "I'm in mood for your games today."

"Twas' no game that I was just playing with you, white wolf." The roc answered, casually cleaning his wings with his beak next like nothing all too tense was going on between them, "It was merely a question that I asked of you. And whether you believe you answered it or not... I received my answer just now and am satisfied with it all the same."

Ignoring the large bird's mockery against him, looking to reestablish his place amongst his watching bandit kin, Flen looked to the child hostage. With a sneer, the white wolf questioned of the little mouse trapped under Rowan's claw, "What's your name, boy?"

"Like I 'ave to tell you, blood eyes!" The little mouse squeaked back instantly not in he hoped was fear but firmness, trying to act brave while he was shaking all over from fright, "Why do you want to know my name when all you're goin' to do is eat me?"

"Eat you? Hah, whoever said you were going to be eaten?" Flen icily laughed back, the rest of his crew following suit, "Nah, we prefer folk with a bit more meat on their bones, my boy. You... Your skimpy bones wouldn't even do good soaking in soup. You're not food material. Lucky for you, myself and my mates here just finished breakfast."

"You're the one who is lucky, wolf." The mouse boy snapped back, throwing a bit of dirt out from between the roc's claws onto Flen's snout, "Rather, you're the one who is going to be unlucky. Wait'll my friends come to get me back. You'll be sorry you came into these woods. You'll be sorry you were ever born!"

As the he-mouse went on cursing along with condemning, Flen straightened up with a broad sneer on his expression. Rubbing the grime off of his nose, the white wolf looked up to the roc glaring down upon him.

"Cute kid you got there, bird." The leader of the Ravager scouts growled, a wicked shine in his eyes, "Any more of them in the local area? As you know, Lord Garn could use more hostages like these."

"I was not out looking for children to bring back to you, wolf. I was busy attempting to locate the she-hare that your ferret tracker who went after her last night." Rowan answered, stirring his wings against his sides, "I never found out where the she-hare went. Nor did I discover the whereabouts of your ferret tracker either-"

"Hiktor is back in camp." Flen cut in, enjoying the moment of humiliating the roc who hissed softly in annoyance, "He came back this morning to report that he failed rather miserably at his task last night. He did, however, unlike you, claim that she was near a stream east of here. That was where myself and your fellow scouts were heading before you dropped in without warning."

"I see... You are heading eastward then?" Rowan growled, his claw grabbing up the little he-mouse as his wings spread wide for take-off, "Then I will fly ahead and-"

"And you'll leave that little mouse with us, bird. There is one thing that you managed to do other than Hiktor during your flight; secure us a hostage as well as a source of information about this area. I'll take that little mouse boy off of your claws. Not to worry. He's too young and thin for me to possibly want to eat."

"Maybe for you, he is..." The roc hissed, looking coldly around at the other Ravagers surrounding him, "What of the rest of you, eh?"

Although a slave to the whims of Lord Garn, it was plain fact that Rowan - raised since birth to be a fierce, towering, intimidating warlord in his own right - commanded fearful respect form the rest of his company; a company he hadn't chosen to join and one that he'd rather come to hate during his years of forced servitude. However, unlike his bandit kin, despite his ugly past, he was a soul that still believed in honor over heartlessness. He was someone who had given mercy to his foe from time to time.

At this moment though, knowing he'd carried the little mouse child into a dangerous situation, the war bird of the north was making a message clear to his company; if they so much as sniffed his hostage the wrong way, he would tear them apart. This no empty threat, mind. The roc, although a minion of Garn, had forever been true to his word. He'd killed many fellow Ravagers due to their insolence. He'd even shown up Lord Garn from time to time.

Either way, allowing several bandits to grab up the writhing, fighting, biting mouse child from out of his sharp grasp, Rowan - with feathers standing on end - shrieked at his fellows, "Hear me and listen well. That child in our possession is my hostage. Not Flen's, not yours, mine. I will decide what is to be done about him. If any one of you here disagree with me... If any one of you feels that my command is too bold for your liking... step forward and tell me so."

Like how Flen had intimidated his troops with his mace earlier, no one did anything after Rowan had boldly spoke his mind about the matter at hand. The great predator bird looked from one bandit to the other. His golden gaze lingered longest upon the red eyed, white wolf lazily swinging his mace from side to side. Then, with a beating of his wings, with a whooshing of the wind, the war bird shot off of the ground like gravity had no tethers upon him to begin with. Then, pushing off of the forest roof with his claws, Rowan shot away eastward out of sight.

"He's getting bolder, sir..." Hiktor warned Flen from the brush, "He... He just threatened your command..."

There was no answer from the white wolf for a moment. Then, with a sneer, looking at the mouse boy held by his men, the leader of the Ravager scouts stated, "For once Hiktor, I agree with you. The time has finally come. This little child doesn't belong to that bird. He belongs to me. And whoever belongs to me belongs to Lord Garn."

Flen next began marching purposefully east. With his company silently following, dragging the he-mouse child along, he snarled over his shoulder, "When we reach the stream that Hiktor described, Rowan dies."

There was a moment of shock from everyone present. The shock was quickly replaced with obedience when their leader barked out his commands, "Yes, the roc is powerful but not immortal. Archers, I want you to stay out of sight when we reach the river. Have your arrows ready. The rest of you will grab the longest pieces of wood you can discover and begin sharpening them into pikes. Before he knows it, Rowan will be meeting the goddess at her gates. Then again, with the life he's lead in our presence... he'll more than likely meet Helnoth in the abyss."

As arrows were drawn, as longer than long branches of wood were carved into makeshift pikes while the march went on, the little he-mouse - Sunseed - did his best not to cry. Why had he run off like a brat? Why had he run into this much trouble? All that he'd wanted to do was get back at his sister. All that he'd wanted to do was make her realize that they needed each other. He hadn't... he hadn't meant to be captured by a roc not be the captive of these barbarians!

What was going to happen to him? Was he going to be slave now for the rest of his days? Oh Gaia no! He would be good from this day onwards. He promised, promised, promised - Huh?

Out of nowhere, after a soft "thok" of something sounded out, the stoat that had been rather roughly carrying bound Sunseed over his shoulder fell deader than dead to the ground! Instantly, now on the ground, the mouse boy saw the reason for his carrier's demise; a dirk was lodged neatly into the right side of the vermin's. Then, as the rat who had noticed the death of Sunseed's captor began to act, he too was hit with a "thwok", flinched in place, looked dazed, then keeled over onto his side as dead as a doornail with another dirk stabbed into his neck.

Before Sunseed's wide eyes, someone from somewhere in the forest was picking off the raiders one by one with knives. Whoever it was had incredible aim, to be sure, for within moments... five bandits were out on the ground with dirks sticking from their vital areas; hearts, lungs, necks, even one knife had nailed an unfortunate wolf archer right between the eyes.

"Hey? Hey, hey, hey, we're under attack!" A Ravager began to exclaim to his party, earning Flen's attention at once, "We're - AUGH!"

From out of thin air it seemed, a form flashing two sharp knives in her paws materialized right before the shocked white wolf. However, truth be told, the stranger at hand hadn't been summoned up by some magic trick. No, having dressed herself in rags, clothing along with other attire last night like the other brigands around her, she'd been part of the bandit company since the first ray of morning light. After she'd knocked out Hiktor along with given him a proper bath, she had discovered their campsite along with slipped in amongst them undercover just before the break of dawn.

And where she hadn't had a good opportunity to strike out at Flen all morning long, the stranger picking off the Ravagers now lunged at the white wolf with both of her daggers who - raising his shield - a managed to deflect a blow. However, with another stab from his foe, with a yelp of pain on his part, one of the knives nipped off the tip of his left ear in due time. By then, though, with the Ravagers catching on to what was happening, the chances for the assassin against Flen were used up.

As the white wolf lashed out at her with his mace next, the would-be silent killer nimbly dashed off into the brush to the left. She was lost to sight within a heartbeat yet after having seen her methods, after having lost a third of his men to her, Flen was not about to let the stranger escape. Mind, she was no stranger to him. She was the reason why he and his scouts had been running all over the woodlands for the last three days; it was the she-hare who called herself Roma the Swift! She was here! She'd been amid the ravagers all along!

"It's the hare!" Flen roared, smashing aside the foliage to his left in search of his retreating foe, his anger rising into an inferno, "Blast her ears and damn her hide! Hiktor, get to tracking-"

"There she is, chief!" The ferret tracker exclaimed instantly, having already been on the she-hare's trail, "She's grabbing the hostage, boss - Ack!"

Shoving aside the twitchy ferret in his way, the white wolf flung his mace powerfully in the direction of the hare he wanted to capture so badly. Mind, where most foes would have been dealt a nasty blow from his thrown mace, the hare maiden he aimed for - a graceful, roguish looking, sandy-brown colored lass whose ears were tied like a ponytail behind her head, wearing a light weight outfit adorned with dagger filled belts - currently securing bound Sunseed over her shoulder easily dodged the lethal projectile.

"Jolly good attempt at knockin' me willy-nilly, good wolf, but not jolly good enough, I'm afraid." The she-hare laughed aloud, bounding off with powerful speed into the woodlands even though she carried a child on her person now, "Will be jolly seeing you later, I suspect! Tally-ho, ha ha!"

"GO!" Flen screamed at his followers, throwing them after the fleeing hare and his captive while ignoring the crimson blood from his ripped ear staining his white fur, "Run her down. We have her. Hiktor, get going now! You lead the way. She's heading east again. Perhaps Rowan will prove to be useful one last time and cut her off before she gets too far."