Patrol Routes

There are many pleasures this world holds, though perhaps the greatest of them all is the chase. The thrill of running down a man, who is in turn fleeing for his life. Many people would call getting pleasure out of this to be sick, though Ser Rowan rarely concerned himself with the opinions of those lesser than himself. Besides, what is wrong with taking joy in the things you do?

Rowan the Cutter and his band of soldiers had stumbled upon a Solar scouting party, no doubt trying to report how many rebels there truly were. There were four of them in total, that was, until the Rabid Wolf cleaved the one in half with his claymore sword. Blood still stained the knight's steel armor and cloak, though it was all worth it to see the look of disbelief in their faces. The other three knew better than to try and attack, and fled for their lives. Rowan and his soldiers could have easily run them down on horseback, but what fun would that be? The Wolf of the West opted to give them a two minute head start, though even that was not enough. The crazed knight could already smell them, and was hot on their trail.

The young mans plea for mercy didn't last very long, as Ser Rowan cut him down from horseback. Grinning to himself, the knight raises his hand and signals his men to ride down the third fleeing man. Their horses easily closed the distance, and the soldier was greeted with two spears to the back.

Looking around for the fourth man, Rowan the cutter casually speaks out.

"We know you're hiding somewhere, spy! Reveal yourself, and we won't kill you. " a lie, though people have been known to believe in crazier lies when their lives are in jeapordy.

Rowan growled in disappointment, he had hoped that this man would prove a fool. The young Cartwright ordered his men to sweep the surrounding area for any signs of the man.

A few minutes pass, and a Lunar soldier finds himself underneath the Solar spy's tree. Removing his helm, the brown haired lad looks around, before taking a sip of his small flask, likely filled with wine.

The crossbow bolt found its mark, burying itself into the young man's neck. He howls in pain, though his screams were quickly cut off by the girgling of blood. The soldier's armored body falls to the ground, clanking loudly as he hit the dirt. The noise attracted two other soldiers, who immedeately spotted the spy.

"Sir! The coward is hiding in this tree!" One of them called out.

It didn't take long for Ser Rowan to approach the tree.

Some of the soldiers backed away, while a few of them taunted back. Ser Rowan however, who towered over them all, pushed past them. Looking up at the spy, the knight growls, much like an enraged animal. Reaching back, he draws his two handed sword. With a hard swing, it collides with the tree, chipping away some wood. Prying it out, he swings again, and again, each time chipping away a small wedge of wood. It was clear he was trying to cut down the tree.

Rowan ignored the scout and continued to chop. The frightening truth was that, despite the scouts wishes, the Rabid wolf was making progress. It wouldn't be long before the tree's own weight would cause a collapse. Each sword blow was backed by tremendous strength. The sword didn't break, though it was getting dull.

The tree was nearing half war cut. Readying his sword once again, he swings as hard as he can. Chipping away just enough wood, the tree began to lean back ever so slightly. Planting his armored boot into the wood, the powerful beast of a man pushes with all of his might. His strength, combined with the weight of the actual tree, caused it to come tumbling down, booming as it crashed into the ground.