Trevor+Wood

He crouched, watching the guard in the moonlight clearing from the safety of the forest. How could he get past him or even close enough to neutralize him without the guard first spotting him and sounding the alarm? If he, Roran, leader of the Resistance, was caught, what would happen to those who followed him? There was no one next in line, no one that he had appointed second in command. Was the risk worth the outcome? Yes. They had been living off of bread and water for the past month. They needed this supplies. And there it was, his chance. The guard had sat on a rock and was beginning to doze into a slumber. Roran shot through the grass, not making a sound besides the slight thud of his shoes hitting the ground. Halfway to the guard, he pulled out his knife ready to attack. The guard started. Out of instinct, Roran instantly dropped to the ground to avoid capture. Over three quarters of the way and he was trapped. The guard spent what seemed like an eternity to Roran, but probably only a couple minutes, looking around and checking his surroundings. After he was satisfied that no one was around he sat back down and, again, started to doze off. A feeling of relief came over Roran. He stood back up and moved at a slower pace towards the guard so as to not make any noise at all. Roran got to the guard and ended his life quickly. He hated killing people but he did what he had to, to survive. After the deed was done he made a bird call signaling to the rest of his crew that it was safe to come out of the trees and move on to the encampment. Roran gathered had his people gather around him so he could give them the plan for how they were going to take the convoy. “The convoy consists of three wagons, that are arranged in a sort of circle, with five Empire Troops per wagon,” Roran said in a hushed voice, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “We need to surround them and all move at the same time. If you can help it, try and only leave the guards unconscious. We want their king to know that we are here and we have the power to do as we please. I’ll give the same call as the first to signal when we move in.” There was a rumble of agreement that rose from the company.

***

Everyone was in position. Roran had scattered them around in five groups of three and him on his own. His plan was to have them take out the guards in sort of a line. As the first rebel was taking out a guard the next rebel would move to the next and so on. To signal everyone to move at the same time, Roran made his bird call. Roran, left to take out any of the guards that had wondered away from the convoy made his first strike. A straggler, fifty or so yards from the convoy, was a perfect first target. Roran ran up behind and kicked him in the back of the knee. This brought the guard down to the ground leaving his head at a perfect height to be struck with by the blunt of his knife. The yell had alerted another guard that was twenty yards from where he stood. Roran ran full force at the guard and at three feet away jumped into the air, feet first, and hit the guard in the chest. Roran had a few seconds to look around and see the progress of his comrades. By the looks of things, they were winning the skirmish. He counted only two of his men that were either dead or unconscious. All others were engaged in battle or moving on to help those who didn’t look like they were winning. After ten minutes of battle, the fighting had come to a halt. All of the guard had been incapacitated in some way. Some had been killed because of no alternative, some lay on the ground unconscious, and those left had realized they were not going to make it and had surrendered. Roran instructed to tie the survivors together and place them in the back of the now vacant wagon, and cover it back up. The ones who had been killed were placed in another wagon, and those unconscious were tied up and placed in another wagon.