As he sat sipping tea, incongruous among the forest pines and other detritus. As he sat, he recounted his many meticulously laid plans torn asunder by the coup d etat dethroning the Mad King and upheaving the his court, leaving him in the miserable state he currently found himself in. Chaperoning a bunch of miscreants trying to steal an artifact meant for a rival baron was not his idea of an efficient use of his time, but a favor had been called in by a prominent seat of the royal court and so he had had no choice but to acquiesce.

    Even if the job was beneath him, he endeavored to carry it out flawlessly and so he'd laid many levels of traps to ensure it's success. Still the pions seemed doubtful.

   One such pion came scurrying up to him, head slightly bowed in deference to Lanester’s noble status. “My lord the first and second traps have been triggered, yet our scouts report that the carriage shows no signs of slowing. Should we not prepare to intercept?”

    Lanester sipped his tea unconcerned, “The first trap was merely a faint, any coachman of even mediocre aptitude could have maneuvered past it. However it would be impossible for the carriage to have avoided the second trap and even if it weren't completely crushed beneath the cauldron of quilin blood, it would be covered in the liquid, luring every beast within a two mile radius with its enticing aroma. Since we've barred their escape, all we need do is wait till the scavengers have picked travelers' bones clean of its flesh and we can go and collect our prize. As we discussed.”

    “Still…” The bandit stammered doubtfully.

     Lanester put his tea cup down with an offended clatter. “If you still feel uneasy, you may move your men into defensive positions, but stay on this side of the barricade.”

   The bandit bowed deeper, “Your wisdom knows no bounds my lord.” He backed away a few steps before turning to his men and shouting orders. From the way the men immediately jumped to attention Lanester could tell that the warriors were not your run-of-the-mill bandits but rather hired mercenaries disguised as bandits, which made him even more curious about the cargo the carriage held. Someone was going to great lengths to acquire the package, or possibly great lengths to keep it out of the hands of someone else and Lanester wanted very much to know why.

    The men barely had time to set down their pints, even as quick as they were to respond to their captains orders, when the flash of golden light broke through the impromptu barricade of a fallen tree.

    In the twilight of the day, with fireflies sparkling in the dimming glow of the setting sun, the golden outline of a carriage must have appeared as a specter to the readying soldiers. As it went by it slowly solidified from what seemed like a beam of the sun’s dying light to a steamrolling tank in a matter of seconds.

     Still, as Lanester correctly discerned, the soldiers weren't your average bandits. They were hardened mercenaries and in the age of might and magic in which they lived, they had seen worse.

      Mages and archers, with their keen awareness of the battlefield, were the first to react. Frost leapt up form the ground like rabbits from burrows, forming stalagmites and glacial arches, but not in enough time to match the velocity of the careening carriage as it barreled past them.  

   Lanester sat, his spilt tea dripping from his white beard, as the carriage gathered more distance between it and his men. His methodical plans having been somehow thwarted, rage billowed up through his body causing his face to turn beat red as he shouted, “After them you idiots!”

     The mercenaries wasted no time. They specialized in capturing fleeing prey, which is why they were chosen for the job at hand, and they were good at it. The scouts, who had been secretly following the carriage since it's entry into the forest, were the first to close in on it. They dived over the barricade with the grace of wind, and flung themselves into the carriages wake. A few perched on branches and knocked arrows into their bows, fused with mana. The arrows flew through the air taking the forms of hawks and falcons diving at the back of the coach.

    The mana infused steps of the scouts projected them faster than any man could ever run. As they were mercenaries, they were mostly rejects from legitimate houses and schools, but even being the failures they were, they kept pace with the hurtling carriage.  

    But they were not the final thing to come past the barricade. A troop of monkeys came flying through the trees, some stopping upon seeing the stranded soldiers barely managing to gather their weapons in the time it took the monsters to traverse the fallen stump. Next a cry of hounds traversed the barricade through the forest, returning to the main path in a pincer that crashed into the mercenaries from both sides.

    Deciding to focus on the more immediate threat, the more armored soldiers moved to intercept the hounds, providing protection for the mages and archers in the center of their makeshift camp. Their formation was quickly shattered though, as the slower moving treants, caught up to the entourage of beast, bursting through the barricade with a quick barrage of their mace like branches.

     For what felt like hours, but was only a few seconds, pandemonium ensued. Many men lost their lives, melting in pool of acid, or crushed beneath the palms of the moving trees. The reason the entire troop wasn't wiped out completely was because suddenly flying swords materialized out of thin air, chopping the treants into minced firewood and decapitating many of the lollis before they had time to even yelp.

     The battlefield froze as a murderous aura emanated from behind them and they all turned to look, instinctively moving to defend themselves from the deadly entity that had shown its fangs.

    Lord Lanester calmly wiped his beard with his handkerchief and held his empty teacup out, which his butler promptly refilled with steaming green liquid. The murderous aura emanated from him like a cloud of toxic gas, as impersonal as an executioner and as deadly as his axe.

    “Continue after the carriage, it must be stopped at all costs.” He said, calmly sipping his tea. “You may leave these beasts to me.”