It was several days since the Sythia had taken residence within the walls of Suna. Like all his people, this made Kieren uneasy. They were nomads and sand dwellers, adapted over generations to the freedom of the wasteland. To be confined within the city was unnatural to them. Still, it was safer then a region inhabited with sandworms. Feeling honour-bound to repay the hospitality they were being shown, the tribe had devoted many of its people to helping their hosts with anything possible. Which is what had led Kieren back to the wastes. Leading a team of two dozen, the group had been dispatched to intercept a merchant. Intel believed the merchant was transporting goods which could harm the city. It wasn't the safest assignment they had been tasked so far, in fact it was considerably more dangerous. Still, the entire team had gladly volunteered if only so they might get back to the wastelands for a few days.
Finding the convoy hadn't been difficult. After only a few days, they had located a merchant caravan that fit the described group. What didn't fit was the size of the escort. Nearly double what the intel had suggested. Whoever had collected it had clearly missed the half dozen long range roving guards and night sentries asleep in the wagons. Things which were obvious to someone who regularity dealt with such caravans. The plan was for Kieren and five of his team to approach the caravan head on and create something of a distraction. Giving an opportunity for a second team of 6 to attack with bows from a distance. The remaining 12 had buried themselves in the sand and waited in ambush. If this was indeed the target, kieren would signal and his squad would attack. Everything was going according to plan. His people were in place, and the caravan was moving into position perfectly. It looked like the ambush would succeed. Until something went wrong. One of the buried members had positioned himself too close to the path and his cry piercd the silence as a caravan wheel crushed his leg. Without hesitation the man was executed, his cry reduced to a bloody gurgle. It was too soon, but they had to move now. Hurtling his spear, Kierens wind jutsu guided the weapon through the executioners chest as all around him the group rose from the sand like daisies in a meadow. The battle was quick. Fuelled with rage at the loss of their brother, the sythia made short work of the escorts, taking no prisoners, though loosing loosing three more of their own in the process. Surveying the scene, Kieren's heart fell. So much unnecessary death. A quick search of the caravan confirmed the contents, explosives. Enough to bring down the gates. Gather the proof we need and collect our dead. Destroy the rest. Stalking away, he waited for his team to complete their work, and then with a snap of his fingers, the caravan became little more then a fireball in the noonday sky.
Wc= 505
Finding the convoy hadn't been difficult. After only a few days, they had located a merchant caravan that fit the described group. What didn't fit was the size of the escort. Nearly double what the intel had suggested. Whoever had collected it had clearly missed the half dozen long range roving guards and night sentries asleep in the wagons. Things which were obvious to someone who regularity dealt with such caravans. The plan was for Kieren and five of his team to approach the caravan head on and create something of a distraction. Giving an opportunity for a second team of 6 to attack with bows from a distance. The remaining 12 had buried themselves in the sand and waited in ambush. If this was indeed the target, kieren would signal and his squad would attack. Everything was going according to plan. His people were in place, and the caravan was moving into position perfectly. It looked like the ambush would succeed. Until something went wrong. One of the buried members had positioned himself too close to the path and his cry piercd the silence as a caravan wheel crushed his leg. Without hesitation the man was executed, his cry reduced to a bloody gurgle. It was too soon, but they had to move now. Hurtling his spear, Kierens wind jutsu guided the weapon through the executioners chest as all around him the group rose from the sand like daisies in a meadow. The battle was quick. Fuelled with rage at the loss of their brother, the sythia made short work of the escorts, taking no prisoners, though loosing loosing three more of their own in the process. Surveying the scene, Kieren's heart fell. So much unnecessary death. A quick search of the caravan confirmed the contents, explosives. Enough to bring down the gates. Gather the proof we need and collect our dead. Destroy the rest. Stalking away, he waited for his team to complete their work, and then with a snap of his fingers, the caravan became little more then a fireball in the noonday sky.
Wc= 505