About Blood 51: The Bandits

51: The Bandits

As soon as the man had finished his sentence, Montaron’s first reaction was to try to keep Talek quiet. The swordsman was still sitting on the ground for Viconia to heal his leg when the words reached him. He opened his mouth, and before Montaron could even cut him off.

“Wait, you’re... AAAAAAAAAARGH!”

“Oh, I am sorry. I seem to have accidentally pressed my finger in the wound.” Viconia said, giving Talek a fierce stare.

“But they are.... AAAAAAAAAHH!” Talek screamed again and several of the bandits winced.

Viconia shook her head. “Oops, there I do it again. You should be quiet! You’re breaking my concentration with your talking.” The last three dogs growled at the drow, but Talek calmed them.

It was unclear whether Talek got the hint or took Viconia’s words at face value, but he was quiet.

Montaron turned towards the leader, who seemed amused by the situation. “Bandits eh? Glad to see you then.”

The man grinned. “We don’t get to hear that often. But I guess in the circumstances, it’s understandable. But eh... we’re still gonna have to deal with you.”

Montaron nodded, leaning against a tree, the fatigue of the haste spell clearly still sensible to him. “So you do. What are yer options?”

The blond man scratched his beard. “We could just fill you with arrows, loot the corpses, and let the people finding this place try to make sense of what happened. Or maybe just take you as slaves.”

Edwin spoke up. “If you want to be gigantically wasteful fools that would slaughter the goose with golden eggs. And my companions could be handy as well. (They better appreciate that I am including them)”

“And the other option?” Montaron asked calmly.

The leader of the group of bandits looked around. The smell of blood filled the nightly air. “If I look around a bit, I’ve got the impression you don’t really have lots of places to go to currently, and you fight pretty decent, you’ve got your own gear already. So I was thinking of offering you to come with us and join us in making every iron merchant between here and Calimshan piss their trousers.”

Edwin rolled his eyes. “Ah, so finally the blond bearded monkey comes to the point. This could have gone much simpler if you merely formulated it in a proper way. ‘We desire your and your trained simians’ aid, oh powerful wizard, be so good to give it to us, and we will reward you handsomely!’ Would that be within your capabilities?”

The blond man looked at the wizard for a moment and the laughed. “You’re a funny guy, mage. I’ve got a sense of humour, but I’d be careful with that tongue of yours. Some people ALSO have a sense of humour... of a different kind.”

“Are you threatening him?” Talek said, before Viconia could administer some ‘medical attention’.

“Let’s all calm down now, and maybe we’ll all walk away from this better than we came in.” Montaron made soothing gestures. “Ye showed us the stick, mind adding a carrot to the mix?”

The leader nodded. “Plenty of carrots for everyone, especially those who can look after themselves! We’re robbing iron merchants, and every single gram of steel or ore we get, we’ve gotta give to some ogre and his cronies. But iron merchants tend to have some gold in their pockets as well. And all the gold is divided among the ‘volunteers’. Every time, they divide their share. Once our job here is done, everyone goes his way and hopes to be able to spend his share before he gets hung.” Some of the leather-clad bandits seemed to grimace a bit at those words.

“Of course, if you’re REALLY good, you could land yourself a place in our little club.” He grinned at the two chain mailed men besides him

Viconia raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you are not merely better equipped bandit?”

“Not bandits of profession at all, lovely dark-skinned one, though many of us started out that way. Mercenaries. Get our pay directly from our client, so we get our money even if all the merchants stay at home and our pay is a lot more secure. Not to mention you’ll still have a job when this gig is over, and if you’re capable, you could rise in ranks. Maybe even have a REALLY powerful client take a liking to you, and you could go place then. I’m telling you now. We sometimes work for people with high demands, and high rewards.”

Talek scowled, but bit his tongue. Montaron rubbed his chin. “Ye make a really good sales pitch. Those arrows of yer buddies pointed at us help too. Just out of curiosity. What merc group are we talking about?”

“The Black Talon.” The mercenary said reflexively raising his left arm to their chest.

Montaron and Xzar exchanged a glance. Montaron scowled the slightest bit and Xzar frowned. It lasted but for a moment. “Sounds like a good deal then. Right, so we’re on trials as cutthroat, with an option to become a sell-sword later.” He looked at Talek, who was looking increasingly frustrated. Viconia had healed the wound when she noticed he seemed to have caught the message. “Mind if I have a bit of a talk with my companions outside of yer earshot? He’s a bit suspicious of strangers, ye see?”

Viconia and Edwin both snorted at the same time as they held back their laughter. The blond man shrugged. “Whatever. Just make it quick. Tenhammer is gonna be pissed if we return too late. And don’t accidentally grab your weapons or something. Especially your fiery friend there.” He looked at Talek.

Montaron nodded and went to Talek and Viconia, followed by Edwin and Xzar so the whole group was huddled together.

“Montaron, what are you doing? These are the bandits! We were gonna kill them!” Talek hissed.

Montaron shushed him. “We ain’t exactly in a position to do anything like that! Besides, these are just hired hands. We need to find their customer. Don’t know if Tenhammer is a nickname for that Tazok guy. We’ll just play along, try to find out more and then see what we do. Besides, there’s something fishy going on...”

Edwin smirked. “Aside from mercenaries and bandits being paid to disturb the iron trade, you mean?”

Montaron ignored the sarcasm. “I’ve heard of the Black Talon. Capable, ruthless but loyal to their contract. The problem is that most of their working is with the Zhentarim.”

Xzar nodded. “Yes... And the leaders won’t be happy. No, not at all! They get the blame! Their favourite toy soldiers are used. And it’ll be too much to hope they’re gonna be put back in the box afterwards.”

Montaron nodded. “So, I see two possibilities. One: The Black Talon decided they want to go totally freelance, and don’t care if they piss off the Black Network. If that’s how it is, we’ll just get the info we need, get out, Xzar will send a report to higher ups and trust me... the Black Talon will be dealt with.”

Talek frowned. “Okay.”

The halfling continued. “Second possibility: The Black Talon is being tricked. In which case we’ll do our best to ‘reveal’ that. Best case scenario, we get your dad’s killer AND the brain behind all the problems in this camp with a bunch of pissed off Talons, and have ourselves a nice lynching. Either way, we should stick around a bit.”

“You forgot a third option, halfling.” Viconia said after a few moments of silence. “Perhaps YOU are the fooled ones, and it’s the Talon that is following the Zhentarim.” The drow grinned. Montaron and Xzar exchanged a troubled look.

“Guess that’s an option too.” He scowled. “See, this is why I don’t like chess.”

Viconia grinned. “The question is of course what you would do should THAT happen.”

Xzar immediately answered. “We stay with Talek.”

Montaron looked at Xzar with a surprised expression, and then turned his gaze towards Viconia, giving her a level stare. “Of course we do.”

Talek nodded. “Yeah, of course they do. Stupid question. Anyway, I’m not really following anymore. Are they friends, or enemies or what?”

Montaron sighed. “The bandits in leather ye don’t need to worry about. They’re just yer everyday bunch of unaligned bastards willing to cut throats if it gets them enough gold for a next meal or drinking bout. Trust me, I know the kind.”

Edwin chuckled. “My amazement can hardly be expressed in words.”

Montaron gave Edwin a dry stare. “As to the mercenaries in their fancy armour. They could be friends, could be enemies. For now, I’d say treat them as friends. Absolutely ZERO killing of Talons until we know for sure. Even if the guy himself shows up, get away from him and keep yer cool. We’ll find a way to take him out without getting all of us killed. And ZERO mentioning of what we did to Tranzig or in Nashkel or yer plans to kill the guy in the big armour. As far as they are concerned, we’re just a bunch of runaway murderers hoping not to get caught and hung.”

Talek nodded. “All right. I guess I can handle that.”

Montaron nodded and stood, turning towards the group. “We’ve decided that we really like to live. So we call you boss or what?”

The man shook his head. “Raiken will do. The only boss we have is Tenhammer. Now, since we won’t be cutting your throats, I guess we’ll need your names as well.”

Montaron nodded. “Deralon.” He said. “not shorty, runt, lil’ buddy or any other funny ones... if ye don’t mind.” He gave the bandits a vicious glare.

“Ahw Derrie, you’re being grumpy again!” Xzar giggled. “I’m Zon, pleased to meet you!”

“You may call me Edward Pilaseren! If you want a less syllable intensive work-out you can call me ‘sir’.” Edwin said, looking down his nose at the bandits.

“I’d be Fastheni.” Viconia said. All eyes went to Talek.

“Euh... what...” He looked around, clearly confused. Then he seemed to catch up. “My name’s eh... ah... eh... wait a sec... euhm... no...”

Without realizing it, Edwin, Montaron and Viconia were pinching the bridge of their nose at the same time. Some of the bandits sniggered. Raiken too looked very amused. “Take your time.”

Talek hesitated for a while. “T... eh... Te...Lik? Yeah! Telik!”

Montaron groaned softly. Raiken nodded, obviously holding back his amusement. “Not a bad name. Wanna add some kind of last name to go with it?”

“Eh... yeah...” Talek answered. He looked around, seeing the three dogs leaving, as if the animals sensed there’d be no more immediate battle. “The Bloodhound.”

“Nice... Hello then, Telik the Bloodhound.” He looked at Montaron. “Heh, don’t worry about stuff like that. Lots of people here rather forget their past, and even more important, like their past to forget them, so I don’t really care what you used to be called in your home town.” He shrugged. “Now, I’d love to chat all night, but we’ve got loot to carry back.” He looked around at the bandits. “You three, keep an eye and an ear out. The rest, go and take every last iron hairpin they’ve got. As for the other loot, you get what you grab.”

The bandits eagerly ran towards the corpses, loudly claiming bodies, sounds of disappointment when corpses were discovered to be devoid of valuables or cheering when they retrieved some silver coins, the began stripping the Fists and the paladin from their armour.. Montaron joined, checking Tevan’s mangled corpse with the routine of someone who’s done it many times before, grinning as he procured some blood stained gems. Xzar too went for the corpses, waiting for some bandits to finish with a farmer’s corpse before he knelt near it.

A nearby bandit cried out in shock. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Xzar looked up, and gave the bandit a giggle, his knife not stopping cutting the fresh corpse open. “I’m looting!”

After the gathering was completed the group followed Raiken. After a while they could smell meat being roasted and heard the sounds of the other bandits. Raiken turned towards the five newcomers. Talek was carrying a few breast plates “Over there you dump all the iron stuff.” He pointed towards a few carts that were placed under a tent. “There are the other people not associated with us. There are a few big tents to sleep, unless you want to set up your own. A bit further are the hobgoblins and the gnolls are in a cave over there. Better stay away from them. In different times, we would have killed the slimes, but we get our gold from the same purse these days. I’m gonna tell Tenhammer about you, he might decide to come and inspect you a bit, so don’t go anywhere.” The man walked off.

Talek and the rest of the bandits dumped the armour in the cart and walked toward a fire with a few benches around it in the middle. Some of the bandits were already heading for their tents; others looked like they could last through the night. Some of them looked almost malnourished, dressed in cheap rags under their leather armour. Others had the muscles and attitude of thugs. They talked, laughed and now and then quarrelled. When the new group approached, the sound of talking went down to whispering. Some of the bandits that had come with them rushed forward, engaging in animated silent conversation with others, giving the five newcomers curious stares.

One of the bandits rose. He was as tall as Talek, and a good deal broader. He had discarded his leather armour, baring his impressive gut. He lacked any hair on his head, but had a small, dark sloppily trimmed beard and moustache. The way the man carried himself suggested there was quite some muscle under the fat though. “Well, well, whadda we got here?” He gave the five a challenging grin.

Edwin looked around at the gathered bandits with a contemptuous sneer as he brought his hand to his nose, Viconia looked nervous, giving all the men a suspicious stare, Xzar waved cheerfully, Montaron glared at the gathering. Talek just answered the grin, setting his path towards the man, turning his head to look at Montaron, who whispered. “Do what ye will, but don’t draw yer sword.”

“Now, either we’ve got some people that like dresses, or a bunch of wizards got kicked out of a tower.” The man laughed, and his laughter was answered by the other bandits.

Edwin spoke up. “Rest assured, assorted specimens of goonery, that my presence in your plebeian company is a temporary arrangement (I would most certainly think so. This place is even worse than those stinking villages.)”

There was an unpleasant silence as Edwin felt quite a few eyes looking at him with harsh glares. The conjurer fidgeted a bit, but didn’t cast his eyes down.

“Snotty little bugger, isn’t he?” The large man said. Before he could say anything more Talek had walked up in front of him; only a hand’s length between the two as he looked up at the bald bandit.

“Who the hell are YOU anyway?” He asked.

The man ignored Talek, looking at his two other comrades. “Ahw... how cute... a little halfling bandit.” Montaron made a disgusted face but didn’t say anything. “And some delicious drow booty. I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on...” His stare at Viconia was appreciative, but it was obvious that it wasn’t lust that drove the remark.

“You’re not touching her unless she asks you to.” Talek interrupted him, pushing with his hand against the large man’s chest. Once again silence, an expectant one.

The man looked down. “What are you gonna do about it, pretty-face.” He grinned.

Talek grinned back. “I’m gonna kick your fat arse, baldy!”

The silence exploded into excited rumour. Some bandits stepped back, giving the two men ample room. Encouragements and insults were shouted, and bets were made.

“You gotta big mouth with all that fancy armour and weapons, lil’ boy.” The large man sneered.

Talek didn’t reply but began undoing the armour, gauntlets, breastplate and chain mail. When his hand went for the bracer the large man’s large arm shot out, crashing his meaty fist in the side of Talek’s face with a dry smack that made several bandits wince. The young swordsman spun around, hair flying around, knees bending slightly, and then came up. He rubbed his red cheek, then ran a hand through his hair.

“That didn’t hurt.” He said in a cocky tone. “So, can I now?” He took off his bracers, grinning at the larger man. In reply the man spread his arms wide, opening his hands. Talek grinned and delivered an uppercut to the man’s chin. The bald man’s head was tossed back, and he blinked a few times to focus, the shook his head. “Bah, a mosquito.”

Talek idly scratched his hair. “Heh, just try to flatten me, oversized pig.”

As Talek took a punch in the stomach, biting his lip so he didn’t cry out, Edwin gave the two a mocking look. “Oh delightful. Are they going to bash heads soon, or are they more inclined to pooping in their hands and throwing faeces?”

“Shut up, wizard.” Montaron was tense. “If this goes wrong, we could be in for a hard time.”

Edwin rolled his eyes. “What? Because he might lose a more violent version of a comparison of relative sexual instrument sizes? (Juvenile and irresponsible, I wonder how he survives.)”

Talek returned the punch, also aiming for the fat man’s impressive gut. There was no reaction, and Talek’s opponent laughed, then coughed and groaned, getting a smirk from Talek in return.

Montaron scowled. “Merchants decide how much respect ye get by how much money ye can show, thieves by how daring a job you do, and whatever ye’re coming from obviously values ‘witty’ remarks like that one, but a sharp tongue doesn’t mean shit here, wizard, cause it ain’t helpful when the corpses start falling left and right. Ye gotta be strong, ye gotta be tough, and ye gotta be willing to take pain.” Talek groaned this time, as his face once again took a punch. He stumbled for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head.

Viconia looked on, chuckling. “Hm... I begin to see what you mean, halfling. In the Underdark or here, the ways to demonstrate it changes, but the basic rule remains. Strength gets rewarded, weakness is punished.” She looked down at him. “It surprises me YOU of all people says that, halfling.”

Talek’s right hook landed on the fat man’s cheek again. Montaron’s scowl remained as he stared at the fight. “Ye’re referring to the fact halflings have troubles getting respect except as loveable rogues or villagers stuffing their faces? Get outta here.” He said sarcastically.

Talek and his opponent stared at each other, breathing heavily, Talek silently challenging the other man to land another punch, and the bandit trying to measure Talek’s resolve. Finally he slapped Talek on the shoulder. “Hah, you’re all right! Thought you were some snotty rich merchant’s kid with sword lessons and armour paid by daddy that ran off!”

Talek laughed. “Heh, the armour’s from a dead Fist, the sword’s from a dead bounty hunter, and the lessons were from some asshole Helmite that tried to turn me into another guard dog. He’s not dead yet.”

There was laughter coming from the other bandits. The large man laughed too. “I should have known. The name’s Kavon the Bear.” He extended a hand.

“Talek... I mean Telik... the Bloodhound.” Talek said.

“Hey, the guy charged ten Fists all on his own! He’s bloody insane!” One bandit said it in an admiring tone. Talek vainly ran a hand through his hair, grinning proudly.

“So, what’s with those mages of yours? The red one needs taking down a peg if you ask me.”

Talek shook his head. “Nah.. Ed...ward acts all stiff, but he’s a softy, really.” Edwin made a strangled sound. “And Zon has a weird sense of humour.”

Viconia decided to take the initiative before Talek would describe her. “I am Fastheni, a cleric of Shar.” Immediately, all the bandits’ eyes were on her and she received a storm of healing requests. After some time calming them down she smirked. “Before I go to sleep, I’ll cast my last healing spells, on those I deem... worthy. There won’t be very much, so feel free to try to convince me.” She smirked. “And for the most of you, offering me the use of your body will not help your case.”

Laughter sounded again. Talek chuckled and pointed at Montaron. “And that’s Deralon.”

Kavon nodded. “Ah yeah, your halfling thief. They’re nimble-fingered little buggers aren’t they?”

Montaron gave the large human a glare. Talek grinned. “He’s grumpy and he doesn’t trust people a whole lot, but he’s kind of the brain of our group. Heck, if we’d have a leader, he’d probably be it.”

Montaron and Kavon both looked surprised and Kavon was about to say something when another voice interrupted. “So... where’s this Bloodhound and the rest?”

Talek turned around. Suddenly, Kavon stepped away a bit and all bandits were utterly quiet. All of them that could had risen to their feet, giving the middle-aged man arriving respectful looks. He had grey hair, but still had the muscles of someone who usually wears armour. In his hand he idly carried a large warhammer. His face was grooved with bitter lines at his mouth and eyes. “I was preparing to get some sleep, but I suppose I could have a look.” Behind him walked Raiken.

Talek stared straight in the man’s face. The warrior walked up to Talek. “I’m Taugosz Khosan, known as Tenhammer. You’re called Telik the Bloodhound?”

Talek nodded. “Yeah...”

“Yeah... who?” said the mercenaries’ leader. He didn’t sound angry.

“Yeah... Tenhammer.” Talek said, and the grin on his face showed that this time he realized what that meant. There was a gasp among the bandits. Montaron gave Raiken a panicked look, but the blond man just winked.

Tenhammer chuckled, then dropped his hammer. “Look here, kiddo, let’s make a deal. You punch me to the ground, and you can call me Tenhammer all you want.” He grinned. “As you’ve been busy already, I’ll give you the first ten swings for free. I won’t strike back, but you’ll have to WORK to hit me.”

Talek frowned in surprise, looking at Montaron in hesitation. The halfling looked at a loss as well.

“Come on boy, we don’t have all night, and I’d like to go to sleep.” Tenhammer yawned.

Talek shrugged, cocked his fist back and threw a punch at Tenhammer’s face that was easily blocked. “One” Tenhammer said.

Talek threw punch after punch, with a kick thrown in. Tenhammer blocked and dodged every one of them, keeping count as he did. Talek’s tenth punch was dodged, and his wrist grabbed. The other hand reached for the back of Talek’s neck, bending him forward. Then the leader rammed his knee in Talek’s gut a few times, and following that slammed an elbow in his neck before pulling his head back and hitting him palm first in the chin, sending Talek dazed backwards, wobbling and shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs.

“Ah, it’s good to keep practicing a bit. Ready to give up, kiddo?” The mercenary said

Talek growled and charged at considerable speed, his hand reaching out to grapple with Tenhammer. The mercenary’s arm lashed out.

And Talek fell backwards, landing on his back, one hand covering his eye, which was quickly smelling, blinking and looking in stunned surprise at the star-covered sky.

Tenhammer rubbed his fist. “Almost got me there. I’m getting too old for this kind of fun. You all right Bloodhound?”

Talek got up to a sitting position, looking up at Tenhammer. “I’ll be fine... sir.”