Konrad rubbed his thighs vigorously, his muscles protesting loudly. They had ridden for hours on end, in increasingly hostile territory. The last village they visited a ma nspat on the road in front of them. He stroked his mustache. 

[i]A decade ago, I would have struck that man for his arrogance against the King's men.[/i] He shook his head again, his eyes scanning the horizon. He knew that Alonso had travelled far out this time, farther than he normally went.
[i]
Last time we found him, it was mere miles from the capital.. This time, I worry for him. It's too far from easy reach... I won't lose him.[/i] 
Like the captain, Konrad  served Alonso since he came into power. He had served his father, too. Although he missed the late king, Alonso was a good lad. He just needed to grow up and accept his duty to his country.
A few hours later, they found the village. The wreckage. It was sickening and infuriating at the same time. 

"Falkenberg, those cattle don't look burned. Find out what killed them." 

Konrad snapped to attention, straightening and offering  crisp salute. "Aye, sir."
He hopped from his horse, walking over to the dead animals. He bent down, knees clicking. He grimaced, and reached towards the beast, turning the corpse about. Aside from the gnaw marks and the peckings of crows and buzzards, he noticed some deep scores in the bone, one rib cracked lengthwise.

[i]It could have been brigands. They sometimes slaughter for sport.. No. They would've took the meat. These scores here.. And here.. These were bolts, from a crossbow. Hastily applied to the poor animals; they must've suffered..
[/i]
The other beast had swathes of bones simply.. Broken and missing. The skull had a giant hole on one side, a smaller one  opposite of it. 
[i]Shit. Blunderbuss? Pistol? Bolts are easy to stop. My shield'll do fine. Bullets? Fuck, I knew I should've brought my lucky pair of trousers.
[/i]
He saw a glint in the dying light under one of the legs. Pulling it out, he swore. "Fucking bolt. Gerald's probably right. Fucking knife-ears." 

He spat, slipping the bolt in his belt. Sloppy killers, whoever they were. Standing up, he heard Gerald's war cry, followed by a muffled thump and some cursing. He jogged to the source of noise. 
[i]Way too old, Konrad. Why didn't you open up an inn, like the old man said?

[/i]
His steps faltered, only for a moment. [i]More rooms for Astrid's lovers. God above, please help me so that I don't murder some poor noble one day.
[/i]
He drew his flail when he reached the scene, the chain rattling. He snorted as he looked at the grungy man. He raised an eyebrow at Gerald. He grinned.

"Hey, Colossus. You think maybe you should ease up on that fuckin' sword? Looks like he can't tell you shit from how hard you shoved it against him. Any farther, and it'll be in his ass."
His face grew grim again, looking at the ruined husk of a village. "And seems you were right, lad. Fuckin' elves did this, mark my words."

[i]These sods probably died as they lived. In abject squalor and filth.
[/i]