[center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/7b/3a/ae/7b3aae7c603a771b2c35f8119b41d19b.jpg[/img][/center] [center][b]Kalar Splint, Chief Ranger of Galuntrung Keep.[/b][/center] [center][b]Traveling east along the Geshmere Road. 12 miles east of Merandin.[/b][/center] Kalar's smile broadened as the last of the rain slapped onto the waterlogged paving slabs, "they were very smart, my memories of them warm what remains of my heart." The Chief Ranger dropped his smile suddenly, pulling on himself the guise of a professional killer. "Company," he barked without needing to look at his assembled men, "Skirmishers out in front, crescent formation, six paces between each man." The Rangers, in their greens and browns, broke into a flurry of motion. They formed a vague semi-circle across the paving slabs, stretching into the shrubby by the roadside. In this way, they would break even a determined force of foot with their bows - whilst at the same time avoiding the possibility of being suddenly encircled in an ambush. It was a common skirmishing tactic, oft used by the Crown's soldiery. As Kalar had found, it was easy to teach and effective, especially in the forests surrounding Galuntrung. "Ms. Solium, keep behind the firing line if you would be so kind," Kalar said, keeping his seriousness. "The journey to Okly is but a short one, and hopefully my scout will return to us in due time with a report. Until then, we must be vigilant. There is not telling what haunts the Geshmere Road, but I can be fairly certain it isn't human." With that ominous remark, he moved away, and as one the group started a cautious advance eastwards.