The scouts returned to the village when the sun was about to set. Currently, Thornefang and the villagers are busy fortifying the village.
"Little leader, there were traces of people coming by the bandits' lair. There were also signs someone was watching the village earlier, but they pulled back a few hours ago."
"It could be the slave traders those f*ckers were planning to meet up with," Harlik muttered, spitting to the side.
"Maybe," Lucen replied, his brow furrowed. "But it could also be something else."
He stood over a crude but serviceable map laid on a table, one made by the local hunters, marked with trails, elevations, and deer paths.
Lucen tapped a finger against the edge of the forest on the map, the very spot where tracks had been discovered.
It reminded him of countless hours spent playing real-time strategy games, but this was no game. Still, as the heir of the north, he had read a few books about tactics.
