Chapter Seventeen: The Intercepted Convoy

The thick smoke had finally begun to dissipate over the charred remnants of Brookhaven. As Alaric's undead forces consolidated their hold on the devastated town, an unsettling quiet descended. It was within this grim silence that Gideon, ever watchful and cunning, detected something amiss. From his vantage point atop the eastern ridge, he spotted a small convoy winding its way stealthily away from the ruins, heading towards the capital.

Gideon's sharp eyes tracked the convoy, noting its hasty and secretive departure. The convoy was small, perhaps a dozen wagons escorted by a few knights. It was clear they were trying to escape unnoticed, likely bearing crucial information about Brookhaven's fall.

With a grim smile, Gideon descended from his perch, making his way back to Alaric's command post. He moved with the stealth and speed characteristic of his kind, his mind already plotting the next steps.

Alaric stood amidst his generals, reviewing the aftermath of their victory and planning their next moves. The mood was one of dark satisfaction, tempered by the relentless drive for further conquest. When Gideon entered, his demeanor serious, all eyes turned towards him.

"What news, Gideon?" Alaric asked, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity.

Gideon bowed slightly before speaking. "A convoy has slipped away from Brookhaven. It appears to be heading towards the capital, likely carrying news of our assault."

Alaric's eyes narrowed, and he considered this information. The escape of any survivor bearing news to the capital could jeopardize his strategic advantage. "How many?" he asked.

"A dozen wagons, perhaps twenty men in escort. They move quickly, but not so quickly that they cannot be intercepted."

Alaric nodded slowly. "We cannot allow them to reach the capital. Prepare a legion. We will intercept and capture them. They may possess information that could be useful."

**The Preparation: Mobilizing the Undead Legion**

Finn and Sorin were already moving to comply with Alaric's orders. The undead legion, a terrifying assembly of skeletal warriors and mindless zombies, began to form ranks. Sorin's archers, their arrows enchanted with dark magic, took their positions, ready to rain death upon any who resisted.

Gideon, given the task of leading the interception, selected his best ghouls to accompany the legion. Their stealth and lethal efficiency would be crucial in capturing the convoy with minimal casualties.

Alaric walked among his forces, his presence a cold, motivating force. "This mission is vital," he intoned, his voice carrying over the assembled undead. "We must ensure that no word of our true strength reaches the capital prematurely. Intercept the convoy, capture its occupants, and bring them to me."

The undead forces, their wills bound to Alaric's dark magic, responded with silent obedience. Finn, ever the tactician, approached Alaric to discuss the finer points of their strategy.

"We should set up an ambush along the narrow pass near Blackwood Forest," Finn suggested. "It's the most likely route they would take to avoid our patrols. We can catch them by surprise and box them in."

Alaric nodded. "Do it. Make sure they have no chance to escape."

Under the cover of night, the undead legion moved with eerie silence. The ghouls scouted ahead, ensuring that the path to the ambush site remained clear. Finn and Gideon coordinated their forces, positioning skeletal archers on the high ground while preparing the main force to strike from the flanks.

The narrow pass through Blackwood Forest was an ideal location for the ambush. The dense trees provided cover for the archers, and the rocky terrain would slow the convoy's progress, making them easy targets for the legion's assault.

Sorin's archers took their positions among the trees, their eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. They strung their bows, each arrow tipped with dark enchantments ready to unleash havoc upon their targets. Gideon's ghouls hid among the underbrush, their senses attuned to the slightest movement, ready to spring into action.

As the undead forces settled into their positions, a tense silence fell over the forest. Alaric remained at a distance, his connection to his minions allowing him to oversee the operation without being physically present. His mind reached out, touching the consciousness of his generals, ensuring their readiness and focus.

The night deepened, and the forest seemed to hold its breath. Gideon, poised at the forefront of the ambush, felt a thrill of anticipation. This was his element—striking from the shadows, sowing chaos and fear. He looked to Finn, who gave a curt nod, signaling that all was in place.

The hours dragged on, each moment heightening the tension. Finally, the sound of distant wheels and the clinking of armor broke the silence. The convoy was approaching, oblivious to the deadly trap that awaited them.

Gideon's lips curled into a predatory smile. "Hold your positions," he whispered to his ghouls. "Wait for my signal."

The convoy came into view, winding through the narrow pass, their pace cautious but steady. As they reached the heart of the ambush site, Gideon raised his hand, a silent command ready to unleash the fury of the undead upon their unsuspecting prey.

As the convoy drew nearer, the undead forces remained perfectly still, hidden by the darkness and the forest's natural cover. The moments stretched out, the tension palpable. Gideon's sharp eyes locked onto the lead wagon, waiting for the precise moment to strike.

Finally, with a swift, decisive motion, Gideon dropped his hand. The night exploded into chaos as the undead legion sprang into action, executing Alaric's plan with ruthless precision.