The forest stirs as a slight breeze brushes through the branches of the trees lining the roadway. Their orange and red leaves float from their perches, swirl on the wind, and come to a gentle stop on the well-traveled path. A slight rumble can be heard in the distance, and soon the sound of harnesses jangling. A carriage is coming.
The leader of a rag-tag bunch hiding in wait motions for his men to be still, but many of them can't help but shift in eagerness. Rumor has it that this carriage is carrying some very valuable cargo. Exactly what, they're not sure, but each man has their own opinion of what might be in store. Images of gold, silver, jewels, and many other rare and precious things consume their thoughts. Thus, each man is twitching with eagerness to crack open the doors of the carriage.
Six pairs of eyes peer out from between the trees lining the road, straining to catch sight of their target. Finally it rumbles around the corner, drawn by two plain brown geldings. The carriage itself is not spectacular to look at. Rather, it seems very ordinary, and the bandit leader may have worried about this had he not also heard that this was a part of the plan to move the cargo. Apparently the men transporting the cargo want it to look inconspicuous in order to deter thieves. Too bad it's not going to work... for them, he thinks wickedly.
He gives a low whistle, the signal to be ready, and his men instantly tense, hefting the weapons they had picked up the moment they heard the carriage. Then, right before the carriage passes them, they spring from the shadows and rush toward their target. To avoid spooking the horses the bandit leader had ordered his men not to yell, however even with this precaution the horses slide to a stop and rear up, snorting and squealing, their eyes wild.
"Roger, Fin, take care of those horses." Even without yelling, his deep voice carries strongly with a commanding note. Two of his men scramble to the sides of the horses, taking hold of their reins and trying to calm them down. Meanwhile, another two men take care of the driver who, although being young and fit, is no match for the armed bandits and is quickly subdued. The last two, the leader and his right-hand man, go around to the back of the carriage. They quickly break the lock and pull the doors open. What they see is truly stunning, but not in the way they expected.
Inside there is nothing, or at least nothing valuable. All that is there is rope, yards and yards of it. The bandit leader curses. Someone is going to pay for this, specifically the barkeeper that kept him informed of potential targets for a cut of the profit. But his dark thoughts are interrupted by the sound of heavy thuds at the front of the carriage, and a quickly silenced cry.
Leaving the doors hanging open he sharply glares around the corner with a thunderous expression to see what is going on, and faces another surprise. On the ground are three of his men, knocked out cold, and he can see the last bandit left struggling with the young driver. Before he is able to interfere however, the driver hits the man on the head with the butt end of a heavy-handled knife, efficiently knocking him out as well.
Hurriedly, the leader of the bandits moves out of sight behind the carriage. Somebody who took out four of his men was skilled indeed, and the scent of deception is thick in the air. "Perhaps it would be best if we leave," he murmurs quietly, his second-in-command nodding in agreement. They aren't the sort to fight for fighting's sake. They are interested in money, and fighting is pointless if profit isn't involved.
Just as they start to beat their hasty retreat, they hear a voice above them say, "Hullo, and where do you think you're going?"
Looking up, they see the definitely not harmless driver standing on the top of the carriage. He now carries a massive longbow in his hands, an arrow nocked and half-drawn. The leader briefly considers trying to run, but then he sees the shine of silver around the bowman's neck. He is just able to make out the outline of an oak leaf, the symbol of...
"A Ranger." The leader says this sullenly, no longer entertaining any thoughts of escape. He sees the disguised ranger smile, pleased at this recognition.
"That's right. Now, please place your weapons on the ground." At their hesitation, the Ranger effortlessly brings the bow to full draw, aiming at the leader. "Come now, don't make this difficult. I did ask nicely."
The sight of the gray shafted arrow aimed at his heart moves the leader to action, and he hastily throws his knives to the ground. His second-in-command does the same, a disgusted look on his face.
"Good men." The Ranger smiles again, but it is the type of mirthless smile that doesn't reach the eyes. Jumping lightly down from the top of the carriage, the Ranger quickly sets about restraining the six bandits, using thumb-and-ankle cuffs on the leader, and using the rope from the carriage on the others. Soon they are all sitting or lying uncomfortably in the back of the carriage.
The Ranger shuts and fastens the door, then walks back around to the front of the carriage. Climbing up into the driver's seat and stowing his bow back out of sight underneath him, he takes hold of the reins. Snapping them, he says a quick "Hup," and he is on his way.
Six bandits rounded up. Not a bad day's work, he thinks to himself.