Stevron sat edgy on is chair, looking out over the map of Bree-lands. Turmoil. The land were in turmoil. Orcs had come down from the mountains in the north. Much of the northern Bree-lands were now under their control. The road to Trestelbridge from Bree-town could no longer be considered safe. A lost caravan of his could testify to that. And from the Lone-lands and from the far south, others had come as well. More orcs, but also men, fighting for various masters. Stevron rubbed his chin with his bare hands. Where many would see a land filled with death and hardships as a curse, Stevron saw opportunity. As a trader from early age, with the family name of Tusk, he had already done well for himself, and Bree-land. Now he hoped that the people of the Bree-lands would remember that. And pay him back, in the form of service on the battlefield.
As Stevron kept his eyes fixed on the map, a man walked in to the chamber. This man had seen many winters, you could tell. But he was still a sharp man, and good with a sword. It was Rynton, Stevron's uncle. Stevron looked up at his uncle"Well? What news do you bring me?" Rynton went over to the keg in the chamber and filled his mug with some of the best ale available in these lands for time being. "Well.." Rynton said, before taking a sip of his ale, "good stuff, nephew." Stevron shared a faint smile with his uncle. As Rynton was not a man to be rushed, Stevron had learned that over the years.
Rynton went over to the table and looked down, at the map and at the pieces placed there. "Well now, let me see if I can fix this for you." Rynton moved around the pieces on the map, some he removed, some he added. "Well, this is what the scouts could report, he said" Stevron looked down at the map. The White Hand had 4 camps in the Bree-lands from what he could see. Outlaws Haven and Brigand's Camp in the west had about 80 soldiers combined. "The scouts were unsure about that one, " Rynton added. "Could be 40 in each of the camps. They were moving a lot. But the Hillshire Ruins lies between them. If we attack one camp fast, the other wont have time to reinforce it." Stevron turned his gaze from the map to his uncle, "which one has the best defense?" "The Brigand's Watch", Rynton replied, very sure of his statement. "The camp is well defended and have it's heart on a hill. The Outlaw's Haven have 2 smaller wooden fotresses, but not on any higher ground to worry about. Their defense there is practically useless." Rynton had fought many skirmishes in his days. And he was still around, so Stevron had no doubt that he was a good warrior. And he would take his advice on this matter. Stevron himself knew how to fight, but not better than your common soldier. No, Stevron's best trait was his eye for trade. And it's that eye that have made his family rich enough to have a smaller guard of their own, as well as being one of the more prominent families in Bree-lands.
"We should have no problem taking both of these camps however. But now we come to the more tricky part". Rynton pointed to the piece on the South Guard Ruins in the Vale of Andrath. "They have about 120 soldiers there." It's a strong old ruin, it could be rebuilt. The scout says they are already working on it. So far with wooden replacements for where the stone used to be. But still, it's a hard nut to crack." Stevron nooded in agreement. He knew his uncle was probably right.
"And for the last camp, but by no means the least..", Rynton said as he pointed to the pieces he had planted by the old fort in the weather hills. "The scouts could not come close enough without being detected to give us a good enough of an estimate. But at least 200 soldiers, at most, probably 300. And with that fort to hold them. Sure it's also a ruin. But in much greater shape than many others around these lands." "Well, uncle? Can we take it?" Rynton shook his head. "We would never stand a chance", he said.
Stevron looked over the map once more, with new thoughts and ideas that this new information had give him. "4 camps," Stevron said. "4 strongholds....and we can't take them all....". Stevron rubbed his chin once more. He knew that whatever step he would take, was going to be crucial for the Tusk's, or the "Boars of Bree" as they were called. "Rynton", he said. "Get me my brother Wulfhame".
