Crossbow (Short Story)

West River Village

A group of men roamed amidst a camp which was located in the woods south of a small commoner town known as West River Village.

They patiently waiting for the sun to set as they sharpened their blades against an ice-cold iron grindstone, and pounded the newly crafted they had created to greatly increase the quality of its defense. Most of the men had already been well fed and had a very hungry look in their eyes which showed that their intentions were that of ill will, and the rag-tag clothing that each one of them wore beneath their armor quickly revealed that these men were not a mercenary band or a wandering squadron of knights.

These men were pillagers.

Pillagers were the kind of individuals who went from village to village and raided them of their supplies, usually leaving behind a pile of corpses upon their leave. The cruelest of them would even sometimes murder all the men, dispose of the elderly, subjugate the women, and even sometimes enslave the children. In this case, this pillager band was one of the worse. The group was known as The Typhoon Ten because the group only had ten members but would typically wipe out entire villages despite their small numbers.

Since the group was that of a mixed species, it was a group that was composed of some of the most violent criminals in the world with a few being human and the others being that of orcish or elven heritage. Needless to say, their mixed-species band of cold-blooded killers was a force to be reckoned with and right now, this town had the great misfortunate of genuinely pissing them off.

This was because of the chief of the village, who refused to pay them off anymore to leave their village alone. Because of this act, in their minds, it was time for them to take what was rightfully theirs.

The pillager band captain was a large Orcish man named Zumvak The Butcher. He stood at around 7'2ft tall and was composed of about 350-400 pounds of pure muscle. Along with that, he was also dressed in heavy armor which he scavenged of the corpse of a dead knight around his size whom he had slain in combat. He is extremely strong and wields a massive battleaxe which would be impossible for any normal human man to wield and properly use, even if he could somehow carry it. Despite his opposing figure what made the man formidable was not his size nor his strength but instead, his cunning.

As the sun fell upon the horizon, Zumvak let out a grin, for now, it was time for blood to be shed.

"Listen here, men!" The Orcish man announced, grabbing the attention of his group of rag-tag barbarians. "Tonight we are going to teach these whelps a lesson. Massacre, steal and do as you please with the women and children of this pathetic little town! We are going to show all of the neighboring villages that we are not to be crossed and that their money will always belong to us if they wanna keep living out the rest of their pathetic lives!" He exclaimed. "Now that the night has fallen, who's ready to spill blood?!"

"LET'S KILL THEM ALL!!!" The men shouted in uproar as they then equipped their gear and got ready for war. Then after firing off the signal to charge with a loud and thunderous roar, the band charged forward and let out war cries as they began to burst down doors and break open windows, setting fires to houses and taking family heirlooms as they ravaged the village but their path of destruction came to a halt when Zumvak and the others realized that none of the villagers were there and that most of their valuables had mysteriously disappeared.

"Where the hell are they?!" Zumvak demanded in annoyance.

"Uh, we don't know Captain." Tubas, one of the human members of the band replied.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know?! Which one of you louts was on scout duty?!"

"That would be me, sir..."