Tales from the Forgotten Realms: Tarakhin Grimscale

Chapter 9: Two's a Crowd

The horses trudged through the dense forest, the underbrush crunching under their hooves as they moved. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow on the leaves above. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles, and the sound of bird calls filled the air.

They rode until the shrubbery was too dense to bring the horses any further. They hitched the animals, making a mental note of where they'd left them, and began on foot. As they walked, Oneshoe couldn't help but notice the way Tarakhin moved. He had a grace and fluidity to his steps, despite his size. Oneshoe wondered how long Tarakhin had been living in the forest to have developed such skills.

"Tarakhin, how did a big guy like you learn to move like that?" Oneshoe asked.

"I have lived in the forest for many years," Tarakhin replied. "I have had to learn to move quietly and quickly to survive."

As they continued on, the forest eventually began to thin out, and the ground became rockier. The sounds of forest wildlife were replaced by the splash of rushing water, and the smell of damp earth filled their nostrils. Soon, they came to a narrow gorge, and Tarakhin led the way down a steep path to the bottom.

The walls of the gorge towered above them, and the rushing water echoed off the rock walls. Tarakhin and Oneshoe made their way along the water's edge, carefully avoiding the slippery rocks. Soon, they came to a cave entrance, and Tarakhin motioned for Oneshoe to follow him inside.

The cave was dark, and the air was musty and thick with the scent of damp earth. Tarakhin led the way, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he walked. The sound of dripping water filled their ears as they moved deeper into the cave.

Finally, they emerged into a large cavern. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and sweat. The sound of voices filled the air, and the ground shook as footsteps echoed through the cavern.

The pair sat in silence, staring intently at the bandit camp in front of them. Tarakhin's mind was racing, trying to come up with a plan to defeat the bandits and put an end to their terrorizing of the town. Oneshoe, meanwhile, was carefully surveying the area, taking note of the bandits' positions and looking for any weak points in their defences.

After a few moments, Tarakhin turned to Oneshoe. "I think I have an idea," he said. "But it's going to require some precision from both of us."

Oneshoe raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"Alright," Tarakhin said, looking at Oneshoe. "Here's the plan. I'll use my mage hand to drop the gunpowder into the fire. That should create a distraction and give you a chance to take out the bandits."

Oneshoe nodded, adjusting his position behind the boulder. "Got it, I think. And then?"

"Then, we take them out one by one," Tarakhin said, a determined look on his face. "We have to be careful, though. We need to maintain the element of surprise."

Oneshoe gave a sly grin. "Don't worry. I'm good at being sneaky."

Tarakhin smiled. "I know you are. Let's do this."

Tarakhin raised his hand, and a ghostly blue hand appeared. He concentrated, guiding the hand to pick up the gunpowder from a keg in the corner and carry it towards the fire.

As the mage hand dropped the gunpowder into the fire, it ignited with a loud boom. The bandits jumped up, surprised by the sudden explosion, and began shouting and running around in confusion.

Oneshoe took the opportunity to sneak around the edge of the camp, taking out one bandit with a swift strike from his dagger. He moved quickly and silently, taking out several more bandits before they even knew he was there.

Meanwhile, Tarakhin unleashed powerful blasts of energy at the bandits, sending them sprawling into the path of Oneshoe's blade.

The remaining bandits soon realised they were under attack and began to fight back, but they were no match for Tarakhin's strength and Oneshoe's stealth.

As the last of the bandits fell, Tarakhin and Oneshoe stood victorious in the centre of the cavern, breathing heavily but triumphant. They high-fived each other, feeling a rush of adrenaline and satisfaction at their success.

"Nice work, Oneshoe," Tarakhin said, grinning.

Oneshoe smiled. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself, Tarakhin."

They took a moment to catch their breath and look around the camp. The smell of smoke and blood hung heavy in the air. The moonlight illuminated the carnage, casting eerie shadows across the clearing.

Tarakhin turned to Oneshoe. "We did it," he said. "Mayor Vanderbilt should be happy"

Oneshoe nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we did. And we make a pretty good team, don't we?"

Tarakhin laughed. "The best," he said.

They set about gathering the bandits' loot, making sure to take any valuables that looked like they belonged to the townspeople. With the sun beginning to rise, they set off back towards their horses, ready to return to Phandalin and report their success to the mayor.