Traben observed the scene in front of him with a keen eye, and the advantage of the height of a tree at the edge of the forest. Arrayed along the Kingsroad about a hundred feet away was a caravan of some sort, not uncommon for this area. People preferred to travel in numbers for safety,though it didn't seem to be quite working out this time. One the opposite side of the caravan, a battle rage. A group of what could only be bandits attacked the caravan, which seemed to have only a few defenders. Bow in hand, he scanned the lines of battle looking for an opportunity to make the long shot count. It was only after the arrow was knocked and the fletching brushed against his cheek that a wail caught his attention.

A woman went down with an arrow in her torso, falling into her wagon. Her goblin attacker readied another arrow, climbing to stand over the woman. Traben loosed, taking satisfaction in the look of confusion on the goblin's face as a stranger's arrow appeared in his chest. As the goblin fell away from the woman, Traben slipped from the tree, feeling his ring heat up as it absorbed the force of his fall. Three large dark wolves awaited him at the bottom, standing when he reached the ground. Readying another arrow, he ran towards the caravan and the woman he had hopefully saved, the wolves at his heels.