Chapter 232: The Scouts Arrive

Two men approached Percvale from the eastern treeline.

The forest was dark, the trees thick, their branches intertwining to form a canopy that blocked out the last traces of sunlight.

The men moved quietly, their steps careful, their bodies low to the ground. They were experienced at staying unseen, trained to move through the wilderness without leaving a trace.

It was evening, the sun low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the land.

The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, the colors fading into deep purple as night approached.

The men found a tall tree with good cover near the edge of the farmland. It was old, its branches thick and sturdy, its leaves dense enough to hide them from anyone below.

One of the men climbed first, his movements careful, his boots finding purchase on the rough bark.

He reached a sturdy branch and settled into position, his body hidden by the leaves. The second man followed, climbing up beside him. They sat in silence for a moment, their eyes scanning the farmland below.

They pulled out their perspective glasses, the lenses polished and clear. Through them, the farmland came into sharp focus, the pens, the animals, the people moving about their business.

They watched as a caravan of animals was led into the pens, the creatures lowing and bleating, their hooves kicking up dust.

They counted the livestock, cows, goats, chickens, and the large Moatts. The cows were heavy and healthy, their coats glossy. The goats were restless, their energy still high from the journey.

The chickens clucked in their cages, their feathers ruffled. The Moatts were massive, their bodies swaying with each step.

They watched as a man directed the operation, his movements confident, his voice carrying across the farmland. The knights referred to him as "m’lord."

They identified him as the Baron of Percvale. He was young, younger than they had expected, but he moved with a quiet authority that commanded respect.

They whispered to each other, confirming details. They were here to spy, to gather information, and to report back to Caef and Dross. The information they gathered would determine whether Vrethka would strike, and if so, how.

"Look at that," one of them whispered, his voice barely audible. "They’re doing... something."

The other scout nodded, his eyes fixed on the pens. "It’s a livestock operation. Getting the animals into their pens."

They watched for a long moment, their minds processing the information. Percvale was more active than they had expected. It wasn’t the dying barony they had been told about. It was growing, expanding, becoming something more.

The other scout was more cautious, his eyes narrowing as he watched the Baron. "He seems confident," he said. "Organized even. This is not a man who is struggling. This is a man who knows what he’s doing."

They agreed to keep watching, to report back before making any moves. They needed more information. They needed to know the patrol patterns, the lighting, the entrances to the farmland. They needed to know when the Baron was vulnerable.

They settled in for a long night of observation. The torches flickered in the distance, casting long shadows across the farmland. The animals moved in their pens, their sounds carrying across the fields.

The scouts watched and waited.

The night was quiet, the only sounds the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. The scouts remained still, their bodies hidden, their eyes scanning the farmland below.

They noted the patrol patterns, the guards moved in a regular rhythm, their paths predictable.

They noted the lighting, the torches were placed strategically, illuminating the entrances to the pens.

They noted the entrances to the farmland, there were two main gates, each one guarded by a single knight.

They whispered to each other, sharing their observations. They had learned a lot already, but they knew there was more to learn. They would stay until morning, watching, waiting, gathering information.

"We should leave before dawn," one of them said. "We have enough to report."

The other scout nodded. "One more hour. Then we go."

They settled back into their positions, their eyes fixed on the farmland below. The night stretched on, silent and still.

---

As the first light of dawn began to appear on the horizon, the scouts stirred.

They had been watching for hours, their bodies stiff from the cold, their eyes heavy with exhaustion.

But they had learned a lot. They had seen the patrol patterns, the lighting, the entrances. They had seen the Baron, his confidence, his organization.

They climbed down from the tree, their movements slow and careful. They landed softly on the ground, their boots sinking into the soft earth. They looked back at the farmland one last time, then turned and disappeared into the treeline.

They had their information. Now they needed to report back.

The scouts moved quickly through the forest, their bodies low, their steps careful. They had a long journey ahead of them, and they needed to reach Vrethka before the trail went cold.

The sun was rising behind them, casting long shadows across the forest floor. They pushed forward.

They arrived at Vrethka by almost evening, their bodies exhausted but their minds sharp. The settlement was busy, its inhabitants moving about their daily routines.

The scouts made their way to the war chief’s hall, their steps quick, their faces set.

Caef was there, sitting with Dross and Korr, their faces expectant. The scouts bowed their heads, then began their report.

"We observed Percvale for an entire night," one of them said. "The Baron is young, but he is confident and organized. He is building something there. The farmlands seem newly planted. The pens are new and well-constructed."

The other scout nodded. "They have livestock, cows, goats, chickens, and Moatts. The operation is small now, but it’s growing. They are rebuilding the barony from the ground up it seems. The pens seem newly constructed."

Caef listened carefully, his face unreadable. "And the guards? The patrols?"