Fetch Quest

Take Care of the Bandit Camp

"So you plan on staying in our little village of Bedro for the time being," the mayor stroked his beard thoughtfully, "It is an honor to host the hero we've been hearing so much about."

"The pleasure is all mine," Lang smiled from the other side of the table, "I just wanted to take a break from adventuring for the time being. Spend some time with the common man."

"Well rumor has it that you've already helped four of my citizens," the mayor said in appreciation, "I want to thank you on behalf of the village."

"It was no problem at all," Lang replied, "but while we're on the topic, is there anything the illustrious mayor needs done? We'd be glad to help."

"Umu, well there is one thing you could do," the elderly man said after a moment, "There's a group of bandits camped out to the west of the village. They pillage merchants coming to and from Bedro but I can't spare the guards to hunt them down, what with the demons. If you could exterminate that little camp of theirs I would greatly reward you."

"Your wish is my command, good mayor," Lang said as he stood and extended his hand. The mayor shook it with vigor and bid the hero farewell.

"We haven't run into any bandits for a while," Azazel said as the two made their way through the forest once more.

"True," her companion nodded, "It seems we have been more preoccupied with necromancers and wyverns as of late."

"Or perhaps less people are turning to banditry," Azazel suggested.

"You're quite optimistic," Lang commented.

"You need optimism in times like these," the woman shrugged.

"The Azazel of four months ago would have said something completely different."

"Maybe I've just had some positive influences."

The two continued chatting as they walked through the woods. Lang would occasionally summon a sheep with his new favorite staff until Azazel took it away from him. He got all the way to Charles the Eleventh before the incessant bleating put her over the edge. She put it in her pocket dimension where Lang would be unable to reach it.  After a stop for a small lunch they went ever westwards. Lang eagerly made notes on his map whenever he saw something interesting. The blank spaces were slowly getting filled in.

"Ah, look there," the man pointed to a tree.

"What is it?" Azazel asked, staring intently at the tree, "I don't see anything." Lang stepped closer and pointed to a broken twig.

"Our bandits are nearby," he declared.

"That twig could've been broken by anything!" Azazel protested.

"Fair enough," Lang sighed ruefully. He pointed down to the forest floor, "See how those leaves are pressed into the ground? Someone walked here recently; someone heavy. Is that a better clue?"

Azazel squinted but couldn't manage to make out what her companion was talking about. She decided to take his word for it. "So the bandits are close then?" she inquired.

Lang nodded, "Let's keep quiet from here on out."

The two soon found the bandit camp. Five people sat around a campfire and one more stood at the edge of the camp keeping watch. There were several tents in the clearing as well as a small pile of crates which was likely stolen loot.

"I'll take out the guard," Lang said, "Hold tight for a moment." He took a potion of invisibility from his satchel and looked at it with a frown, "I need to make more of these."

After that comment, he downed the bottle and crept away. A minute later, the man keeping watch made a strangled noise and Lang appeared behind him driving a dagger through the bandit's throat.