We can smell them coming, usually. They smell like the old times. The old ways linger about them like evil spirits. The smell of gunpowder, oil, and fuel permeates from their very pores as if they are harbingers of the Dark Old Times.

Avoiding them is easy for our people. We live with the earth, look of the earth, and smell of the earth. Farmers, hunters, fishermen, and a few peacekeepers are our kind. We dig with the spade, hunt with the bow, fish by the net, travel by horse, and take the fat of the land unto ourselves for nourishment. We want little, our needs are met, and our ways are humble. But these who stink of the old times, they come still.

They come to take our lives and destroy our way of life. And so, we fight them.

We creep through the forests and stalk them.
We track them and their metal wagons through the countryside.
We watch and we wait.
And when the time is right, and they stand distracted, and they expose their soft bellies to us, then that is when we launch the arrows and spears.