Chương 55

Bandits We got an early start the next morning, sticking to the road for the first stretch of our journey.

"What's going on with the whole Rel'ly Good Shampoo thing?" I asked.

"Have you had any news?"

"Keep your voice down," hissed Rel, "I told you – it's top-secret information." I glanced around. It was barely past dawn, the blanket of night having not yet fully lifted. Other than our little group, there wasn't another soul on the road.

"Rel," I said slowly, "don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

"Paranoid, Pete? Paranoid?" The second repetition of the word carried a hint of mania.

"Rel'ly Good Shampoo is going to revolutionise the hair care industry! Do you know how many people out there would stop at nothing to steal the formula?"

"I dread to think," I said, then lowered my voice.

"So, what is–" My words – and the conversation I'd immediately regretted starting – were thankfully cut short by a system update. Quest Assigned: Bandits Type: Open world Since the Lord of Stonehaven was overthrown, bandits in the region have grown bolder. No longer content with roadside ambushes, they've begun raiding small villages. Under the leadership of Bok'than the Merciless, their crimes have escalated beyond simple thievery. Villagers are now being taken and sold into slavery.

They have seized a small, fortified village called Moldown and are using it as their base of operations. It lies seven miles west of your current location. Travel there and eliminate the bandit threat. Reward: Ring of the Champion"Bandits?" said Kaelis.

"That sounds promising." It did. Our experience with world quests up until that point had been a tale of two extremes – helping a farmer push his cart out of a ditch, and nearly being torn to shreds by a pack of outrageously powerful monsters. A little middle ground would be nice. We needed opponents who would provide a challenge for Kaelis, Allaria and Voklum. Allaria's expression had darkened.

"Lokta'Inif," she spat.

"This is her fault. She's the one who overthrew the Lord of Stonehaven and declared herself Overlady. When I first arrived in the city, the Lord sent out regular patrols to keep the bandits in line and manage the monster population. Clearly, she didn't think it was an important practice to maintain once she took over. After all, what are the lives of a few villagers to the great and glorious Lokta'Inif?"

"Well, whatever the reason," I said, "This sounds like a job for the Avatar of Peasants." * We moved through the forest, Allaria leading the way. It turned out that much of her home planet had been covered in forest, and as a warrior of her clan, she was adept at tracking and hunting. She led the way, moving with all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. She seemed to know instinctively where to place her feet to avoid making any sound at all.

Rel was equally skilled, which made sense, what with him being a squirrel. He was loving life, darting through the trees like a grey blur, leaping silently from branch to branch. Kaelis, Voklum and I? Well, it's fair to say that we were not natural forest dwellers. Many leaves were rustled and branches snapped as we tried to keep up. We earned our fair share of dirty looks from Allaria, who muttered several times under her breath that we wouldn't survive a day on her planet.

It took us an hour to reach the bandits' camp. As we drew near, Allaria raised a hand.

"There's a bandit hiding in one of the trees over there," she whispered, unslinging the bow from her back.

"They haven't seen us yet. Do you want me to handle it?" She reached for an arrow, but I held up a hand to stop her.

"No, don't kill them. I'd like to ask them a few questions first…" * Mogdun had one big regret: not listening to his grandmother when she told him getting mixed up with bandits would be incredibly foolish. He'd thought he'd known better – the arrogance of youth and all that. If he'd stayed in his village, a simple life was all that awaited him. Working on his family farm, maybe marrying one of the village girls and having children of his own one day. Children who would eventually take over the farm.

Thus, the cycle would continue, the same as it always had. It had sounded so… tedious. Now, however? All Mogdun wished was that he could be back on the family farm. A little bit of tedium didn't sound so dreadful anymore. As the weakest member of the gang, he was relegated to lookout duty. Eight hours a day, seven days a week, he perched in the very same tree, keeping an eye on the surrounding forest.

In fact, he'd spent so much time up there, he was fairly sure the branch was starting to form an indent in the shape of his ass. Still, it was far better than the alternative. He could be back in the camp, or out on raids… Even the thought was enough to make him shudder. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Bok'than the Merciless… The name was well deserved. Some of the things Mogdun had seen the past few months would haunt him until his dying days.

"What do you do when you need to pee?" Mogdun yelped, whipping his head around so fast that he lost his balance and started to fall. He scrambled desperately, managing to latch onto the branch before he took an unfortunate tumble. Slowly, he turned to face the person who'd spoken. He knew he should have blown the warning horn, but the shock had robbed him of his senses. Besides, if he did, he'd have to explain how someone had breached the perimeter and snuck up on him. The man was a… peasant.

A peasant with a straw hat and some very peculiar glasses. Despite the stupid grin on his face, there was something about him that gave Mogdun pause.

"Who are you?" Mogdun asked, his hand slowly drifting to the horn that hung from his belt.

"How rude of me! Here I am, perched on your branch, all up in your personal space, and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Pete, and these are my friends," he said, gesturing to the ground. Mogdun's eyes widened. Three other people stood on the forest floor, staring up at him through narrowed eyes. Wait, three others and a… squirrel? A squirrel wearing a wizard hat.

"Rel, Kaelis, Voklum and Allaria." With that, the man flung his leg over the branch and dropped the twenty or so metres to the ground. Then he looked up expectantly, gesturing for Mogdun to follow. Mogdun sighed and scurried down the tree. After several weeks of practice, he'd become rather adept at climbing trees, and it only took him a few seconds to reach the ground. When he looked up and met the adventurers' eyes, he wished he could scurry right back up again. A metallic man built like a miniature mountain.

A tall woman with green eyes who was staring at Mogdun like she wanted nothing more than to cause him great pain. A blue-skinned warrior with an enormous battle axe. And the squirrel… well, Mogdun met his eyes for a brief moment, then quickly looked away when they flashed blue.

"So," said Pete, the grin giving way to a hard stare that made Mogdun flinch.

"Before this goes any further, I have one very important question to ask you. Have you been involved in murdering villagers or taking slaves?"

"And don't think of lying to us," said Rel, his squeaky voice containing a remarkable amount of menace.

"I can assure you that we'll know." They had formed a half circle around him, and Mogdun's eyes darted nervously between them, meeting each gaze for a brief moment before deciding it was much more comfortable to look at the floor. He took a step back… straight into the trunk of his tree. Why hadn't he listened to his grandmother? He took a deep breath.

"No," Mogdun said.

"I'm just the lookout." Pete nodded, and a shadow of his former grin returned.

"And what this clown of a boss of yours – what's his name again…?" Pete's gaze grew distant for a moment.

"Bok'than the Merciless. Do you approve of what he's been up to?" Mogdun gulped and looked around nervously. The truth was, he found Bok'than's actions deplorable. When he'd signed up to be a bandit, he knew it would involve some questionable actions. Some highway robbery, perhaps some cattle raids and the odd bit of intimidation. But the things Bok'than was doing? Mogdun felt sick just thinking about it. He'd considered running away several times – trying to leave this life behind and return to his farm…

and then he remembered what Bok'than had done to the last bandit who'd questioned his methods and tried to leave his merry little band. Their flayed, rotting corpse was still impaled on the wooden palisade surrounding the village.

"No," whispered Mogdun, his voice quavering.

"No… Bok'than is a monster." Then, as if a floodgate had opened, he told the strangers everything. About his family and the farm. His dreams of a life of adventure and excitement. The friend who'd joined Bok'than's gang and persuaded him to come along.

"You're a bit of a dumbass, aren't you?" asked Pete.

"Fortunately for you, we're here to deal with the problem. If you play your cards right, you might even make it out of the situation alive."

"Deal with the problem?" said Mogdun.

"No, you should turn and leave right now. It's not too late – no one else knows you're here. If you try to attack Bok'than's camp, he'll skin you alive and decorate the walls of the village with your corpses."

"Skin us alive? I generally try not to judge people on their hobbies, but that's fucking weird," said Pete, before his expression darkened.

"What about the villagers he's captured? How does he treat them?"

"They're kept in cages in the centre of the village. Bok'than gives them enough food and water to keep them alive. After all…" Mogdun froze, realising how awful what he was about to say would sound.

"He says slaves are worthless if they're dead." Pete seemed to change before Mogdun's eyes. One second, he was a grinning idiot in peasant garb; the next, he seemed to grow… not his body, but his presence. It became a mountainous thing, unyielding and vast. A cold sweat broke out across Mogdun's skin. His knees trembled. The pressure continued to grow and suddenly terror flooded his mind, sinking into his thoughts like red-hot knives. He collapsed to the ground, whimpering as he clawed at his face.

Images flashed through his mind. His farm being raided by bandits. The house being looted. His father attempting to fight back and having a sword rammed through his guts. His little sister being dragged away to be sold into slavery. His grandmother… flayed by Bok'than.

"Enough, Pete," said Rel. The weight lifted instantly. But the thoughts… Mogdun knew they'd stay with him forever. He felt a hand hook under his arm and haul him to his feet.

"Sorry about that," said Pete, scratching the back of his head.

"I may have gotten a little carried away. I guess you can consider that your punishment for your part in all of this." Mogdun couldn't argue with that. The things he'd seen in those visions, the awful things that had happened to his family… Bok'than had done that and worse to many of the villagers who'd crossed his path. Mogdun may not have played a major role, but even by staying and acting as look out, he'd been part of it all the same.

"Right," said Pete.

"Let's go and put an end to it. Mogdun you walk at the back with Rel – but be warned, if you try anything, he won't hesitate to kill you. In fact, he'll probably take great pleasure in it." Mogdun glanced at Rel and winced when arcs of crackling lightning burst into existence across the squirrel's fur. * As they made their way up the gentle incline towards the village walls, Mogdun tried to subtly position himself behind the blue-skinned warrior and make himself as small as possible.

Of course, Okkthan and Zekkruk would be on gate duty. Two of the meanest bastards in the whole gang.

'Please don't see me' he thought as the two guards stuck their heads over the wall. They were both orcs, their amber eyes glinting with cruel amusement. Pale pink scars criss-crossed their dark green skin, and the one on the left's nose had been broken so badly that it was little more than a mangled lump. Each of them held a crossbow, which they raised and trained on Pete.

"What do we have here?" said Okkthan, the orc on the left. His eyes roved over the group, widening slightly when they landed on Mogdun. He grinned.

"Well, why am I not surprised? Mogdun's gotten himself captured." He spat over the wall, then nodded at Kaelis.

"Why don't you do the world a favour – take that big axe of yours and lop the useless little bastard's head right off."

"No," said Pete, coming to a stop around thirty metres from the gate.

"I don't think we'll be doing that. In fact, I have a better idea. Open the gate, put your weapons down, then sit on your bottoms like good little boys while we decide what to do with you." Zekkruk roared in laughter and slapped a big, powerful hand against one of the wooden stakes, making the whole wall tremble.

"We've got ourselves a funny one, Okkthan. Here's a counteroffer – tell your friends to put down those weapons and take off that fancy armour. Leave it where you are and then walk away while you still can. We'll call it a tribute to Bok'than, in honour of the mercy he's shown by not peeling the flesh from your bones." He turned his feral gaze on Allaria.

"On second thoughts, she can stay. I think Bok'than would have some fun with her…" In the time it took Mogdun to blink, Allaria drew, nocked and released an arrow. The twang of the bowstring was immediately followed by a grunt and a loud thud as Zekkruk staggered off the platform and crashed to the ground below. Cries of pain filled the air, and a sudden flurry of confused voices and shouts rose from within the camp. Okkthan snarled and fired his crossbow.

Mogdun winced, expecting a moment later to see the bolt protruding from Pete's back. Instead… it bounced off, not even piercing the material of the man's shirt.

"Huh," said Pete, bending down to pick it up. The metal tip was bent and twisted, as if it had just struck steel rather than a man's chest.

"I think you dropped this. Here, have it back." His arm moved so quickly Mogdun's brain didn't even register it. One moment, the bolt was in Pete's hand; the next, it was gone. Mogdun's gaze drifted up to the gate. There was a hole in Okkthan's head. Pete had thrown the bolt with such force it had passed cleanly through both sides of the orc's skull, and Mogdun felt a little queasy when he realised he could see the blue of the sky through the tunnel it had carved in the guard's head.

It took Okkthan's body a few moments to catch up, but when it finally did, it toppled forward, tipping over the wall and crashing onto the path below.

"Right," said Pete, glancing over his shoulder at the others.

"Let's sort out this bandit problem." With that, he strode forward, only slowing briefly when he reached the gate to deliver a front kick. It exploded.