Of course Roran agreed with their plan. Horst started handing out weapons- shovels, pitchforks, flails,- anything that could be used to fight.
Roran first grabbed a pick, then thought better of it.

He never really bothered much with Brom's stories, save for one. The "Song of Gerand".
It was the story of Gerand, the greatest warrior of his time that gave up the sword to have a wife and a peaceful farm. But his peace was shattered by a most heartless Lord that began a blood feud against his family. Gerand had to kill again. But instead of a blade, he used a hammer.
So Roran's hands wandered over to a medium-sized hammer with a long handle and rounded blade on one side.
"May I have this?"

Horst regarded it carefully. "Use it wisely." Then faced the rest of their team. "Listen. We want to scare, not kill. Break a few bones if you want, but don't get carried away. And whatever you do, don't stand and fight. No matter how brave or heroic you feel, remember that they are trained soldiers."

With that warning in mind, they all made their way to the camp, slinking through the darkness to find only four sentries. Everyone else was asleep. The Ra'zac's horses were picketed by the glowing remains of a fire. Beside it was an eerie bundle that wriggled every once in a while. A person?

Horst whispered his orders, sending Albriech and Delwin to ambush two sentries while Parr and Roran were to target another two.
Roran eyed his victim silently, shivering with anticipation.
Wait...
Wait...

Horst exploded from his spot, crowing as he led the charge. Roran leapt into action, swinging. He slammed into the sentry at the shoulder, metal crunching.
The man screamed and dropped his halberd, staggering. Roran raised his hammer again and the man cried out for help.

Roran took off after him, yelling unintelligibly. He burst into a tent, crushing whatever or whoever was within and turned to smash another's head with a bell-like clang. Loring appeared momentarily before vanishing once again with a maniac laughter, stabbing soldiers left and right.

Roran spun around to see a soldier fumbling to get his bow strung. He charged and snapped the bow with his mallet and sent the man running.
The Ra'zac emerged from their tent, shrieking terribly, wielding swords.
But Baldor, the genius, untethered the horses and sent them barreling towards the demonic figures.
They managed to regroup after that, only to be thrown apart as the soldier's morale disintegrated and they ran away.

It ended.
It was over already.

Roran made his way back to Horst, only to pause at a living body. It was someone with a bag over their head, and ropes tied over bags that covered their hands and feet. The figure was whimpering, muffled cries that vaguely sounded like begs for mercy.
After a moment of hesitation, Roran ripped the cloth of the stranger's head.
The first thing he saw terrified him.

There was no flesh on that face. Just bare, white bone. Eyeless sockets stared at him with tears pooling inside, trickling down that morbid expression on what should have been normal, rock-hard bone. It appeared to be missing a gap between the jawbone and skull itself, the space filled with freakishly malleable bone, like cheeks. Two tiny dots of lilac light quivered in the middle of those empty sockets, as though replacing the lack of pupils. The... thing was taking shuddering breaths, though if the rest of it's body was like it's head then there was no telling what lungs it breathed through.

By the gods... they're real. Roran slowly realized.
That bird wasn't a lunatic.. He remembered her counsel. If you save them, you will gain a powerful ally.
"If you mean us no harm, we will help you. What are your intentions, creature?" He asked if it.
It occurred to Roran this thing might not even speak his language.
His concerns were wiped away instantly.
"N-no h-h-h-harm. Please, no m-more!" A soft, identifiably male voice stuttered in terror.

Roran nodded, thinking quickly. He scooped his hands under the body and lifted, shocked by the lack of weight from the other. Until he remembered this creature was literally just bones. He shuddered, adjusting his grip and finding his way over to Horst, seeing the rest of Carvahall getting up and about in curiosity of the commotion.
"Horst." He called the smith over. "I found a strange prisoner they left behind. It seems the rumors of the bone spirits are true- I'm carrying a living skeleton!"

Horst stared in disbelief. "That face is not natural." The father commented grimly. "Does it speak? And are you sure you're alright? It's much taller than you."
Roran nodded, a little more eagerly. "Weighs less than a saddlebag, it's strange. And, it's not enough to trust him yet- at least he sounds male- but I asked if he meant harm. He said he does not, in a manner that makes me believe he was abused. I suggest we take him in for now, learn what we can and whether he is on our side. He could aid us in driving off those desecrators."
Horst picked at his beard as he considered this. Then he called out. "Delwin!" Said man came over, a long cut on the forearm.
"What is it- by the Gods what is that?"

The creature flinched at those words, strange lids snicking shut over it's sockets. It was eerily similar to eyelids.
"That trapper's rumor was true! This creature matches his description! What should we do with it?-ohugh." He started as the other shifted to stare at his wound. And to stare at the mess all around.

"Did.. did you attack those guardsman?" It whispered fearfully. Horst eyed it, reading the surprisingly emotive face. Then he puffed out his chest. "Yes we did. It was the best brawl I've had in years."
The living skeleton stared at him before turning it's face to look up at the sky. "You routed them.." Roran shifted his weight onto the other foot as he watched it seem to smile.
"I have no doubt that you didn't do that for me, but I thank you.. so much for that. I am eternally grateful. They were very, very cruel." It spoke more steadily, never once taking it's gaze off the starry sky.

"Do- do you have a name?" Delwin inquired. The living skeleton seemed to return to reality, looking back at everyone present. "I uh.. San... Alter. My name is Alter."
Everyone shared a look with each other before Horst took charge.
"Alright, Alter. We will discuss what to do with you later. Delwin, take Alter to Gertrude. Explain the situation to her and see if she can do anything with them."

Delwin hesitated. "But he's huge. I don't see myself being able to carry him. Perhaps Roran, but I'm not so ridiculously strong!"
Roran was about to say something when the one in his arms scoffed, a strange purple glow across their face under the sockets in a line. "I'm not that heavy- gosh, I'd think I'd be lighter than usual with how they starved me! Heh." They blinked. "I apologise, I think this situation has made me giddy. I had given up hope on any sort of rescue." Alter explained distantly.

Roran offered the skeleton to Delwin. "He really is light. It takes no effort to carry him whatsoever." Delwin stared hard at the bewildered looking living skeleton before taking it from Roran. Alter squeaked and tears sprang from it's sockets at the action.
"I think my ribs are broken." They gasped.

Delwin frowned at this and the lack of weight on them. "Let's get you to the healer then. She's a wonderful cook, too." And turned away. "Oh that's so sweet of you. Does she bake pie by any chance?" "She does, but I don't see how that's relevant."
"I just love sharing recipes! It's been a little too long seen I've been treated as a living person, though. I may just sleep as soon as I get the chance. I'm sorry if that bothers you, Delwin was it?" "I truly regret that you've been through so much, I only imagine the Ra'zac didn't eat you because you were already bones." Their voices faded away by then, leaving Roran perplexed as he noticed Horst shouting orders to their group, being obeyed immediately.

"Why did you attack?" Thane questioned Horst. "Who gave you the authority to make this decision? You've doomed us all!"
Birgit snapped back. "Would you let them kill your wife?" She bent down and pressed her palms to Nolfavrell's bloody cheeks and displayed them to Thane accusingly. "Would you let them burn us?... Where is your manhood, loam breaker?"
He looked away.

Roran spoke up. "They burned my farm, devoured Quimby, and nearly destroyed Carvahall. Such crimes cannot go unpunished. Are we frightened rabbits to cower down and accept our fate? No! We have a right to defend ourselves."

He paused as Baldor and Albriech returned, pulling Quimby's wagon after them.
"We can debate later. Now we have to prepare. Who will help us?"
About forty men offered their hands, joining together to accomplish the arduous task of building Carvahall's defenses.

They toiled tirelessly, nailing fences between homes, piling rock-filled barrels into walls, dragging logs across the road that was blocked with two wagons tipped over.
Roran worked between the many duties, only stopping when Katrina pulled him into an alley. "I'm glad you're back, and that you're safe." They kissed delicately.

"Katrina... I have to speak with you as soon as we're finished." Her smile was faltering before him, but full of hope.
"You were right;" Roran continued. "It is foolish of me to delay. Every moment we spend together is precious, and I have no desire to squander what time we have when a whim if fate could tear us apart."
His beloved's eyes watered with joy.

...

Roran was heaving water onto Kiselt's thatch roof as to prevent fires when Parr cried out. "Ra'zac!"
He immediately forsook his bucket to race towards the wagons, where his hammer lay.
Snatching it, he spotted a lone Ra'zac upon his horse down the road, lit by a single torch. It's right arm was drawn back, as though prepared to throw something.

Roran felt laughter building up within him. "Is he going to throw rocks at us? He's too far away to even hit-" He stopped short as the Ra'zac launched some sort of glass object that closed the distance with unnatural speed, bursting upon the wagon on Roran's right.
Not even a second passed before it exploded, sending the wagon and Roran flying. Roran had the wind knocked out of him as he slammed into a wall.
Gasping, he collapsed to his hands and knees. His roaring ears nearly drowned out the galloping of horses.
He managed to force himself to his feet, only to duck to the side as the Ra'zac entered Carvahall through the blazing wagons.

They sliced and slew three men before Horst and Loring fought them back with pitchforks. Before anyone could recover their wits soldiers came pouring through the wagons, murdering countless villagers.

Roran felt anger surging inside him and knew what he had to do. He leapt at the nearest soldier, smashing him in the face with the bladed side of his hammer. The man's allies rushed at Roran, and he ripped the dead man's shield off and blocked the first attack just in time.
He circumvented a sword thrust and responded with a hammer to the chin, stepping back as he did so.
"To me!" He yelled at the villagers. "Defend your homes!" He dodged a jab as five enemies tried surrounding him. "To me!"

Baldor came to him first, Albriech in tow. In mere seconds, Loring's sons joined him, as did others. The side streets were full of women and children, heaving rocks at the soldiers. "Stay together," Roran ordered them. "There are more of us."
The soldiers froze up as the line of Carvahall residents kept growing. With a hundred men at his back, Roran drove forward.
"Attack,you foolsss!" One Ra'zac shrieked, avoiding Loring's pitchfork.
Roran caught an arrow on his shield and laughed. The Ra'zac had retreated to the soldiers, hissing unnaturally. They glared at the villagers from beneath their hoods.
Roran suddenly felt his limbs become leaden, frozen and unable to move.

Suddenly a strange voice shouted.

Something leapt clear over Roran's head from behind the wall of villagers. It landed in front of him in a crouch, then stood up, tall. The Ra'zac backed away, suddenly afraid. The mysterious figure's hands spread out, suddenly ablaze with pale blue flame.
Magic.
"Begone, foul demons. I will tolerate your cruelty no more."

The hood fell away and revealed the glistening white skull of the one named Alter. The soldiers retreated further in terror. "I said begone! Leave before I drive your filth from this place myself!" Alter boomed, a dozen bones appearing in a semicircle above him and floating there by some form of magic.

The warriors began backing away in fear, the Ra'zac remaining on their steeds and hissing furiously. There was a yard between the two enemies, the residents of Carvahall holding their breaths in anticipation.
Suddenly a raw cry erupted from Birgit somewhere behind them and a moment later a rock shot a foot past Alter's skull. The Ra'zac dodged it with impossible speed.

A loud clatter emanated from the skeleton as he raised his blue flaming hands, Roran deciding to take action. He dropped his shield, gripping his hammer with both hands before raising it high above his head. He hurled it at precisely the same time as the hovering bones discharged at the soldier's feet, impaling the dirt and bursting into blue flame as the hammer clanged against the Ra'zac's shield, leaving a considerable indentation.

The warrior's morale nearly snapped right then and there, the Ra'zac snarling. "Retreat." They called, turning and riding away. The soldiers backed away until they were well past the village's boundaries, at which point they turned tail and ran.

When they were out of sight Alter's shoulders slumped, Roran dropping his gaze to the ground.
The explosion had killed Parr. Nine others had died as well. Wailing sobs and cries tore through the air as wives and mothers mourned their loved ones. How could this happen here? Roran asked himself.

"Everyone, come!" Baldor's voice rang out. Roran looked up and stumbled over to the boy, Alter already stiff beside him.
A Ra'zac was perched on it's horse only twenty yards off. It directed it's long, broken finger at Roran and it's voice slithered out. "You... you smell like your cousin. We never forget a sssmell."
Roran responded with a hoarse shout. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

It chuckled in an awful way, as though a beetle had learnt to speak. "We want... information." It looked back where it's comrades had disappeared before continuing to everyone.
"Release Roran and you ssshall be sold as ssslaves. Protect him, and we will eat you all, bones included. We ssshall have your answer when next we come. Be sssure it is the right one."

It turned, riding off into the night.

Alter then hunched over with a whimper, alarming those around the skeleton of magic. Then he seemed to fall unconscious, collapsing onto the ground.

"Is he dead?"