Arkan and Garel followed the smell of the fire through the woods until they made it to camp.
The Rangers of the Dark Forest lived simply. Small green tents were situated in a circle formation around a small campfire. A little pot hung from iron over the fire, stew bubbling within.
Two Rangers sat around the fire with a wooden bowl and spoon in their hand. Belim was big and round. A real brute that you wouldn't want to mess with. He could also eat more than all the Rangers combined.
Farondil sat on the opposite side of Belim. He was second to Arkan and they disagreed on almost every subject. He kept his blonde hair short and had softer features than Arkan but was just as strong.
“There better be some food. I'm starving,” Garel said, putting down his pack.
“Don't worry, Garel, I ate it all.” Belim let out a howling laugh that echoed throughout the forest.
“If that were true, Belim, I would've already slayed you,” Garel said, slipping his dagger out and pointing it at Belim's protruding belly. Garel moved to the stew and poked a piece of beef with the tip of his knife. He closed his eyes and savored the taste. “This is very good, Belim.”
Belim nodded and continued eating.
Garel took a bowl and spooned enough stew to satisfy his hunger. Arkan came up right behind and did the same. They both sat down on a log around the fire.
“You might want to get out of Belim's splash zone,” Farondil said, pointing to the mess of food that stained Belim's green tunic.
Arkan laughed and scooted his log further away.
“Nobody should be told how to eat,” Belim proudly stated.
“Did you find anything out there?” Farondil asked.
Arkan sipped the stew and agreed with Garel's assessment on the quality. Belim had gotten a lot better at cooking. “Found two scouts. Took care of them,” Arkan said, returning to his dinner.
“Any evidence of others?”
Arkan shook his head. “Not that Garel and I could see.”
“What are those savages planning?” Belim asked.
Garel pretended his spoon was a dagger. “Let them come! I'll slice through them all.” He swung his spoon through the air.
“Don't get ahead of yourself, Garel. The barbarians were just doing their usual scouting mission. And thanks to the Rangers of the Dark Forest, they'll get no information from us,” Arkan said.
Garel looked around. “Where is Demorac?”
Farondil pointed his spoon to the forest. “Said he smelled something fishy and went to go check it out.”
“Probably smelled Belim and wanted to get out of here.” Garel laughed.
Belim was too busy eating to care for insults.
“Should we be on high alert, Arkan?” Farondil asked.
“It can't hurt. We should probably have two men on watch tonight just in case,” Arkan replied.
“What about the King?”
“What about him?”
Farondil leaned forward on his log. “Should we notify him?”
“For two lousy scouts? If even that's what they were. They could've been deserters for all we know.”
Farondil shrugged. “Wouldn't want the King to get angry because we neglected our duties.”
Arkan ate a spoonful of stew. He hated to admit it but Farondil was probably right. “It's too late to see the King tonight but I'll see him first thing in the morning.”
Farondil relaxed on his log, satisfied. Any concession by Arkan no matter how small was win in Farondil's book.
Their quiet dinner was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Someone was moving fast through the forest and they were headed straight for the camp. Arkan put his bowl down and stood up. The rest of the Rangers did the same.
Arkan grabbed his bow in preparation of an enemy. Garel unsheathed his daggers. Belim took one last bite of stew and swung his heavy warhammer onto his shoulder. Farondil pulled his fine rapier out of his scabbard.
Demorac came crashing through the forest. An arrow was stuck in his left bicep, blood soaking the dark green tunic. “Brothers! A raid!”
Demorac stopped at their feet and bent down to one knee to catch his breath.
“Slow down, Demorac,” Arkan said, relaxing his bow. “Tell us what happened.”
Demorac took a deep breath. “I was scouting near Icebor when I saw the barbarians attack.”
“How many?” Farondil asked.
“At least two dozen,” Demorac replied.
The brothers looked at one another with big eyes.
Arkan gripped his bow tight. “What are we waiting for? Those people need our help.”
Belim scratched his bald scalp. “But going against two dozen barbarians? It's suicide.”
Farondil stepped forward. “I recommend we alert the King. With reinforcements we can help them.”
Arkan shook his head. “By the time we get reinforcements and get back to the village it will already be too late. We're Rangers of the Dark Forest. We can't run with our tails between our legs.”
Arkan put his bow forward. “Are you with me?”
The Rangers weren't cowards. They all nodded and put their weapons forth.