The Hunter and the Hunted

The rider stayed at the tree line for what felt like an eternity. He didn't move closer, didn't raise a weapon or call out. He simply watched, his presence a silent confirmation that Carridan knew something was happening in the wild lands. The men in the outpost had likely gone unnoticed for weeks, their absence not immediately alarming. But now that they had been wiped out and the outpost was under new control, Carridan's reach had been tested, and this scout was here to measure the response.

I stood on the newly reinforced wall, arms crossed as I studied the figure. His horse shifted beneath him, pawing at the ground impatiently, but the rider remained still. Gorak stood to my left, watching the scout with open hostility, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to charge forward and rip the man apart. The Shadeborn lingered to my right, half-hidden in the shadows as she had been since we first arrived at the outpost. Her violet eyes gleamed faintly, analyzing the situation with her usual unreadable expression.

The tension in the air thickened, a quiet battle of patience between me and the lone rider. Eventually, without a single word spoken, he turned his horse and disappeared into the trees.

"He's running back to Carridan," I said. "Which means we're out of time."

Gorak growled. "Let me take warriors. We hunt him down, make sure he never returns."

The Shadeborn let out a quiet breath, amusement flickering in her eyes. "That would be a mistake."

I turned my head slightly, glancing at her. "Why?"

"Killing him prevents one report," she said. "But Carridan is already aware something is happening here. He will send more men soon, whether that scout reaches him or not. If he doesn't return, Carridan will assume the worst and respond accordingly."

Gorak bared his tusks. "You're saying we do nothing?"

I considered it, but the idea of letting the scout return unchecked didn't sit well with me. There was another way, one that could work to our advantage.

"No," I said. "We don't kill him. We follow him."

The Shadeborn's smirk widened. "Now that is interesting."

Gorak frowned, clearly not pleased with the decision, but he didn't argue. I turned to the human scouts who had proven their worth in the outpost raid. Their leader, the scarred man with the sharp eyes, met my gaze with a questioning look.

"You're sending us?" he asked.

"You're the best trackers we have," I replied. "Follow him at a distance. Find out where he's going. If he reports to a minor outpost, I want to know. If he's heading directly to Carridan's stronghold, we need to be ready."

The scout exchanged a glance with his men before nodding. "We'll stay close enough to track, far enough to keep from being seen."

"Move fast, but don't engage," I said. "You get spotted, you disappear."

The three men nodded before slipping into the trees, vanishing into the night with practiced efficiency. The waiting began.

The outpost settled into an uneasy quiet, the tension of the looming confrontation pressing down on everyone. The goblins reinforced the walls, sharpening weapons and stacking supplies. The advanced warriors stood in formation near the gates, their expressions grim as they prepared for what was coming. The Guardian remained near the center of the outpost, its presence a steady, unshakable reminder of our strength.

The Shadeborn said nothing as she observed from the shadows, but I knew she was calculating possibilities just as I was. She didn't waste words on reassurances or false optimism. She knew what I knew—Carridan's response was inevitable. The only question was how soon it would come.

Hours passed before one of the scouts returned. I met him near the southern wall, my grip tightening on my spear as he approached. He wasn't breathing hard despite the distance he had traveled, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"Well?" I asked.

"He's heading straight for Carridan's stronghold," the scout said. "No stops, no detours."

That was all I needed to hear. It meant Carridan wasn't operating through layers of minor commanders or distant officers. If this rider was going directly to him, then Carridan was already preparing a response.

"Tell me about the stronghold," I said.

The scout hesitated. "It's… large. Bigger than we thought. We got as close as we could, but the defenses are solid. High walls, heavy gates, and at least a few hundred men stationed inside. They weren't in a war stance when we passed, but they aren't weak."

Gorak let out a low curse under his breath. The Shadeborn's gaze sharpened slightly, but she remained silent. I clenched my jaw, processing the information.

A direct attack was impossible. We didn't have the numbers, and even if we tried to lay siege, it would take more resources than we could afford. We weren't ready for an all-out war.

"Did they seem aware of us?" I asked.

The scout shook his head. "Not yet. But they will be soon."

That was the danger. Once Carridan received word that a military force had seized one of his outposts, he would be forced to respond. If he ignored it, he would look weak. If he moved too slowly, we would fortify and grow stronger. His best move was to strike quickly and crush us before we could expand.

I turned back toward the outpost, taking in the newly reinforced walls, the growing numbers of warriors, the supplies we had seized. We had taken a major step forward, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.

Gorak crossed his arms, his expression serious. "Then what's our next move?"

I exhaled, considering our options.

1. Fortify and prepare for an attack. If Carridan was coming, we could use this time to expand, recruit, and strengthen our defenses, forcing him into a prolonged fight that he might not want.

2. Launch a diversionary strike. If we could hit one of his smaller outposts, sabotage a supply line, or disrupt his plans before he acted, we might be able to delay his response and gain more time to prepare.

3. Seek allies. Carridan was not the only power in this region. If we could find a faction willing to align with us, we could turn this battle from a defensive stand into a real war for territory.

The Shadeborn finally spoke. "If you wait too long, he will dictate the terms of the battle. If you move too soon, you risk exposing weaknesses."

I turned to her. "What would you do?"

She smiled slightly. "That depends. Are you content with defending? Or do you intend to conquer?"

The words settled deep in my chest. This had started as survival, as securing my place in this world. But now, it was more than that. If I only defended, I would always be reacting to others. If I attacked, if I expanded, then I would be the one shaping the battlefield.