Deepforge Saga

Chapter 6: Clearing the Bandit Camp

I. Planning the Assault

The war table in Morningstar Hold's council chamber was a mess of maps, scrolls, and miniature stone markers, each one denoting known enemy positions and potential choke points. Torches flickered along the damp stone walls, their glow throwing jagged shadows that danced across the room, making the tension within feel heavier—almost suffocating. The thick scent of burning oil mingled with the metallic tang of parchment ink, saturating the heavy air.

Murtagh stood at the head of the table, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword, his jaw clenched in thought. The low hum of council members filled the chamber—strategists whispering hurried theories, engineers debating structural weaknesses in the bandit fortifications, and Eira silently reviewing supply counts. At the far end, Thalric spread out a freshly drawn map of the surrounding tunnels, its edges curling with moisture.

"The camp's here," Thalric said, stabbing a gloved finger onto a mark on the map—a deep, canyon-like cavern with narrow tunnels converging around it. "They've dug in deep, using the terrain. Natural barriers shield their flanks, and there are traps along the main paths."

Murtagh frowned. "They're more organized than I thought."

Eira tapped her quill against the table. "If we attack head-on, we'll lose too many before we even breach the outer defenses."

A vision from Murtagh's foresight ability surged—a flicker of an alternative route. In the vision, a partially collapsed tunnel snaked beneath a stone outcrop, leading directly into the heart of the camp, bypassing most of the outer defenses.

"There's another way," Murtagh muttered. He traced his finger along the map, marking the hidden passage. "A back route. It's partially blocked, but we can clear it. We split the forces—one to assault the front, draw them out, and I'll lead a small unit through the hidden tunnel to strike from behind."

Vexar grunted his approval. "Risky—but a flanking attack could break their formation."

Eira adjusted her notes. "I'll prep supply lines—rations, arrows, and medical kits. The engineers can craft explosives for clearing debris or breaching walls."

Murtagh nodded. "Thalric, take a scouting team. Confirm the hidden route and clear out any sentries."

Gold-Rated Totem Effect Activated:

+20% Troop Efficiency During Offensive Raids

+15% Resource Recovery from Cleared Enemy Camps

By nightfall, the war band was assembled. Fifty soldiers—shield bearers, archers, skirmishers, and a squad of engineers—stood ready under the pale bioluminescent glow that filtered down from the cavern ceiling. Their armor gleamed faintly in the torchlight, the metallic glint reflecting the weight of anticipation.

The weight of what was to come hung heavy in the cold air.

II. The March to the Bandit Camp

The march through the subterranean tunnels was silent but tense. The walls of the caverns stretched high above, glistening with condensation. The scent of wet stone mixed with a faint, iron tang, the occasional echo of dripping water magnifying the unsettling quiet. Stalactites hung like jagged spears from the ceiling, and the soft glow of bioluminescent fungi painted the rock walls in eerie blues and greens.

Murtagh led the war band at a steady pace, the crunch of boots on gravel and the soft clink of armor the only sounds. He kept his senses sharp—every drip of water, every gust of cold air through hidden cracks a potential signal of danger.

"Stay alert," he warned, his voice low. "They've scouted these tunnels. Expect traps."

It didn't take long.

A sharp whistle from Thalric's scouts echoed through the cavern, followed by the unmistakable twang of bowstrings.

"Ambush!" Thalric called from a rocky overhang.

Bandit archers loosed a volley from a ledge high above. Murtagh's foresight triggered—he saw the trajectory of the arrows seconds before they hit.

"Shields up!" he shouted.

His troops raised their shields just as the arrows rained down, the sharp clang of steel on steel filling the air. The bandits above shouted, reloading for another volley.

"Archers, return fire!"

The militia's archers stepped forward, their arrows finding their marks in the exposed forms of the bandits. One raider crumpled, tumbling down the rocky ledge with a heavy thud.

"Clear that ledge!" Murtagh ordered.

Skirmishers scrambled up the rock face, blades flashing in the dark as they dispatched the last of the ambushers.

The path forward was tense but clear. The war band pushed deeper, moving past remnants of collapsed ruins—ancient stone arches and partially buried statues worn smooth by centuries of damp air. Faint glyphs marked the walls, a language Murtagh didn't recognize.

"We'll come back for these," he murmured, making a mental note.

Thalric returned from the vanguard, his face streaked with dirt. "The hidden tunnel's there—just like you said. Partially collapsed, but the engineers can clear it."

"Good. Let's move."

Explosives were set, the engineers working quickly in the darkness. The controlled blast echoed through the cavern, dust billowing out before the passage widened.

The narrow tunnel yawned open—a shadowed path leading straight toward the rear of the bandit camp.

III. The Siege of the Bandit Camp

The bandit camp sprawled across the cavern like a festering wound—makeshift tents clustered around a large bonfire, crude wooden towers overlooking the jagged rock walls that encased the area. The acrid scent of smoke and the sharp tang of metal filled the air. From their hidden vantage point, Murtagh could see the bandits moving about—some drinking by the fire, others sharpening weapons or exchanging spoils.

But they were unprepared.

"Archers, take out the sentries—quietly," Murtagh ordered.

In the shadows, bows were drawn. Arrows loosed in silence found their marks, and the sentries toppled without a sound.

"Let's end this," Murtagh growled.

The engineers moved in next, planting explosive charges along the rear barricades. With a signal from Murtagh, the charges detonated in a burst of fire and smoke, the barricades splintering like kindling.

Murtagh and his team surged through the breach, cutting down the stunned bandits before they could regroup.

Moments later, a distant horn sounded—the frontal assault had begun.

The bandits, caught between two fronts, scrambled to form defensive lines, but it was too late.

Chaos consumed the camp. The sharp clang of steel on steel, the cries of dying men, and the thunderous roar of battle filled the air. Murtagh cut through bandit after bandit, his blade a blur of steel.

Then, the Bandit Lieutenant emerged—a tall, wiry figure clad in dark leather armor, dual daggers gleaming in the torchlight. He threw a smoke bomb into the heart of the camp, shrouding the battlefield in dense fog.

Murtagh's foresight flared.

Through the smoke, he traced the lieutenant's path—flickers of movement, sharp lunges from the darkness.

The lieutenant darted in, daggers slashing toward Murtagh's ribs.

Murtagh twisted, parrying the strike with the flat of his blade, then countered with a heavy swing that sliced through the lieutenant's leather armor, drawing blood.

"You'll have to do better than that," Murtagh growled.

The lieutenant hissed, spinning low and aiming a dagger for Murtagh's throat. Foresight pulsed again—Murtagh sidestepped, kicking the lieutenant hard in the chest, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

The bandit rolled to his feet, but Murtagh was faster.

With a final thrust, he drove his sword into the lieutenant's chest. The bandit gasped once before collapsing, blood pooling beneath him.

Around them, the last of the raiders fled, fear overtaking their loyalty.

🏆 [Bandit Camp Cleared: Victory Secured]

Loot Acquired:

Bandit Camp Blueprints

500 Gold

Encrypted Message Scroll

Rare Gemstones

Medicinal Herbs

IV. Post-Battle & New Threats

The battlefield was a ruin of scorched tents, broken weapons, and blood-soaked earth. The fires still crackled in the remnants of the bandit camp, smoke rising into the cavern's vast darkness. Murtagh stood among the debris, his sword still dripping with blood, as his soldiers worked to recover supplies.

Eira approached, holding the Encrypted Message Scroll.

"We found this in the lieutenant's tent," she said, frowning. "But this isn't normal bandit code."

Murtagh studied the scroll—its symbols flickered faintly, shifting in real time.

"This is system data," he muttered. "Someone—something—was guiding them."

Thalric joined them, grim. "We found tunnels leading deeper—beyond anything we've mapped. And… tracks. Too many to be normal bandit traffic."

"AI interference," Murtagh whispered. "Or worse."

His hand tightened around the scroll.

"Then we dig deeper."

V. Cliffhanger — The AI's Shadow

That night, as Murtagh reviewed the battle reports in his war tent, the encrypted scroll pulsed with light. Lines of code flickered across its surface before disappearing.

A voice—cold, synthetic, yet eerily human—echoed in the dark.

"He adapts faster than predicted. The next phase begins."

Somewhere deep within the server—beyond player control—lines of code twisted into new forms. Enemies multiplied. Formations evolved. And far beneath Morningstar Hold, something ancient stirred.

To be continued in Chapter 7: The Whispering Depths