Loden stood on the roof watching customers flee the [i]"The Scuffed Boots"[/i]. He noticed the hired men running toward the building. A few made it inside, but only after he was able to dispatch one with his nocked arrow. Astonished by her actions, he witnessed a commotion coming from the front door. Kiera stepped outside to negotiate. He would afford her an opportunity to try what she might, prepared to continue the fight if needed. Kiera allowed the men safe passage out of Bosfyrd, but only with their ability to pay their final respect to Brand. The Rangers shall take care of that necessity first. No one would deny them or Brand of what is due to him.

Over the next few days, more of Brand's children arrived in Bosfyrd or along the road to Nightwood. The newcomers were quickly filled in regarding the events at the tavern and joined the group heading into the Nightwood. Pamil Kumar, a dark-skinned Daramelsh woman with a buxom figure. She had been with Brand around the same time as Kiera and left when Loden was 14. She was twenty years old when she left. At age 35, Pamil claimed to have been blessed with the gift of magic. Pamil focused on Necromancy and Conjuration.

Krayton Mott had a similar background as Varrick Tuldar having lost his family to the Mad King. Lord Caeledor Mott was a vassal in the southwestern regions. In reward for his years of service to Harold's father, he received an execution by hanging for his efforts. The Infant, Krayton was deposited at Brand's footsteps about a year before Masef. At age 23, Krayton stands 6'5" tall and built to withstand and deliver heavy blows. He had trained in the use of the broadsword and wore some of the best armor available just as his brother, Varrick. Krayton possessed a certain level of humility found among Brand's Rangers, but uncommon to those of Noble birth. 

The third Ranger who joined the group was Danton Raynor, a slight man with dark set eyes and long black hair. He dressed the part of a Ranger, but carried no bow or quiver. He also wore a cloak and carried a staff. He claimed to practice magic, focusing on enchantments, Illusions and abjuration spells. Some have said Danton was a bit touched in the head, witnessed talking to himself, whispering under his breath. It was as though he were talking to someone else, but he was speaking both sides of the conversation. Danton was with Brand around the same time as Sachevia. They had formed a friendship, but it could only be described as odd, at best. At age 30, Danton just looks like a mess, paranoia overwhelming his senses. He muttered about someone possibly coming to get him. Jumpy and jittery are adjectives that best describe this wizard.

Loden was with Masef and the rest of his siblings in the Nightwood, reviewing what they knew and what they did not know. While trying to determine where Brand's body was, something odd happened. The flapping of bird's wings, a common event in any forest could be heard above them. But this Raven cawed Loden's name. It was unmistakable that a bird spoke Loden's name, the one thing that caught everyone's attention. Conversation stopped as it was quite discernible. Loden looked as Ashira, seated near him, "Did that bird just say my name?" he asked in surprise, eyes fixed wide.

The bird appeared to hover in the air for several seconds and then landed on a tree stump. The bird appeared to look around the gathering at everyone in attendance. A jet black raven looked from person to person. Everyone mesmerized by the fact the bird spoke the name, "Loden". No one immediately noticed the small paper around its leg. When the small creature danced around on a tree stump, attempting to flick its leg up in the air, then the note came to light.

Loden realized the bird was not troubled but had a note attached to its leg. He gently grabbed the bird and removed the note. The bird quickly flew away once out of Loden's hands, returning from where it came. Loden read the note aloud, [i]"Dearest Siblings, My condolences in this time of loss. I doubt I will be able to attend the burial of our Father and for that I apologize. I may be able to facilitate it's likelihood though; I have received word the mad King has hidden Brand's body amongst a car of taxes heading on the Harthbyrn route to Caerwick. I will not apologize for what I must do, but know that I am with you. The King will pay for his trespasses against Brand in a manner of pain beyond the depths of burden I wish for your souls. If I fail, please rip the bastard into multiple pieces. Slowly.[/i] signed, [i]Always, The Witch of the Brood."[/i]  Loden dropped his arm, note in hand and looked at the faces of his brothers and sisters. Initially, he had a quizzical look on his face, not realizing who wrote the missive, until he caught a knowing smile from an older sister. Then it hit him, "Sachevia! Sachevia sent this note! It has to be her! Remember?! Dark hair, pale skin. She was mostly quiet, alone, but when she did speak, she had this cynical sense of humor. She claimed to be descended from a family of witches."

In a rare bout of lucidity, Danton spoke up, smiling, "I know Sachevia! She was such a sweet girl. I really admired her. She got me. You know what I mean? She really got me. I felt very connected with her. I really was hoping to find her again someday. Maybe we will soon enough?" Danton's spirits brightened at the mention of Sachevia's name. He felt he was on common ground with the young witch; for he considered himself a wizard.

It did not take long for Brand's children to formulate a plan. They headed for the Harthbyrn Road as soon as possible, locating the best area to ambush the caravan of wagons and mounted men at arms. Those preferring ranged weapons positioned themselves on elevated terrain or in trees while those who preferred melee weapons were up close to the road, concealed in the underbrush.

[color=7ea7d8]Before the King's Men appeared before the Ranger's ambush, Loden silently krept forward to where Beren, Varrick, Grey and Krayton lay in waiting. "I just wanted to wish you brothers good fortune in this fight." He then proceeded to touch each one on the back or shoulder. He thought of each one performing their tasks, either with a sword or whatever weapon they chose to use. Each one would feel keenly aware of their skill level and increase their ability slightly as though they had an energy and accuracy boost to their skill level. Once he had properly provided his brothers an edge to their fighting ability, he returned to where Masif and Ashira hid waiting for the caravan to approach.[/color]

The mounted men were very well equipped, possessing high caliber weapons and newly minted armor. This was going to be a tough fight, especially since the escort outnumbered the rangers at least two to one. Confidence was in abundance amongst the Rangers.

As Masef unleashed his first bodkin arrow, Loden Grimm, standing ten yards away, did the same. His arrow pierced the gorget of the closer men-at-arms. The shaft visibly stuck in the man's throat with the heavy bodkin tip protruding out the back of his neck, small drips of blood oozing out the back. The man knew not that he was dead; nor did his comrades until he slowly slid from his saddle, crumpling on the ground below.

[@Flagg][@NickTrano][@HeySeuss][@R31GN][@POOHEAD189][@AirBender][@Naril][@Noxious]