It's A Trap

Snorre was hiding underneath a thicket near a gurgling river. It was a good spot, the sounds of his presence were covered by the gurgling of water. Unlike Momme, he had not signed up to join the army of Verdant Kingdom. Not even this war could change his deep-rooted dislike for authorities. But there were other options, fortunately. Partisan groups an guerilla squads were defending the attacked areas in their own ways. 

Snorre didn't know much about the inner workings of the Corrupt army, but he didn't need to. He knew the forest. He had learned that there was a camp of soldiers not too far away from him. Because of the muddy ground, ahead of him was one of the few paths that allowed for easy passing. Or rather, it had until now.

Snorre had just finishing his trap. Several fishing lines were now bow-taut across the ground, attached to the triggers of a bunch of hidden explosives on both sides of and under the path. Of course he would have preferred a less violent and harmful method, but he lacked the ressourches to cure the entire camp of their Necrosis and hopefully their insanity.

Carefully masking his traces, he slowly crawled backwards into the water. He grapped the hollow log that he had used to transport his materials and slowly drifted away, making only the smallest of necessary movements in the water that would allow him to return to his camp.