“Well, well… what have the fates brought us this fine day?” Bellowed the voice of what appeared to be the leader of the bandits. He was a very tall human with a touch of grey in his complexion that suggested he might have some orc heritage. He had the tribal markings of an Evudu plains shaman, including what at first glance appeared to be a very impressive necklace of trophies, mostly large teeth like that of dragons. He crossed his muscular arms as he looked the travellers over. “Half dragons. Perhaps you carry half of a treasure horde with you?” He let out an intimidating booming laugh that seemed to shake the ground with each exhalation.
His bandit troops, at least twenty in total, let out various laughs, chuckles, and sneers of their own as they emerged from the trees on either side of the road surrounding the party in a pincer manoeuvre.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Zhanatos interjected, cutting through the laughter. His statement drew looks of inquiry, so he explained, “You can’t have ‘half a treasure horde’; if you cut a treasure horde in half you just end up with two smaller treasure hoards. That’s how numbers work!” He asserted with what he thought to be a sage nod.
A moment of silence passed as friend and foe processed the words of … wisdom..?
That the crimson-scaled berserker had presented them, he had something of a talent for being correct in the wrong ways.
The bandit leader scoffed as he walked forward. With each step, the dirt road rumbled and rose out of the ground forming a staircase that he walked up onto like a politician striding to the top of a dais. “Half hoard, full hoard, it matters not. You best surrender whatever treasure you have, for I… am Thieon, THE DRAGONSLAYER!” The ground rumbled like thunder as he announced his title. A pair of spheres emerged from the earth and circled about him like tiny moons, displaying his magical prowess. “As you can see, I command the powers of the earth! With but a whim, I could open the very ground beneath you and swallow you whole. I’ll give you one chance to surrender--”
“PFFFFT! What good is HALF slaying us going to--”
“Not now, Zhanatos…” Radais interrupted his friend before everyone was forced to endure more of his wisdom. This was a potentially deadly situation. Magic was a threat to all creatures, even dragons. Thieon was clearly a skilled caster, and a cursory glance at the rest of his troop revealed the tell-tale bluish glow of enchanted weapons. Thankfully Zhanatos’ habit of outspokenness had worked in the party’s favour. Xion and Larxene had already turned to face the enemies behind them, and the royal guard had instinctively formed a protective triangle around their prince, briefly obscuring him from view. “Might we parlay Thieon the Dragon Slayer?” Radais inquired as he stepped out from behind Zhanatos, causing his friend to tense up. Xion and Larxene both glanced over their shoulders as they saw the prince break from their formation.
“‘Parlay, you say? You hope to bargain?” Thieon squinted as he looked Radais up and down, then nodded. Even if his crew didn’t get everything the travellers had, taking some of their money without a fight might be more profitable. Ultimately being a good bandit was like being a good businessman. One had to know the costs and risks. Taking a smaller bribe could yield a greater return than a direct fight at the risk of injury. Healers and equipment menders were not cheap. “What do you offer?”
Radais strode forward, taking out a rather hefty-looking brown stack from the largest pouch on his belt. “I have a rather handsome sum here. Perhaps you might consider giving honest work a try?” He stopped a few paces short of the Thieon, who was still standing tall on his dais of earth.
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“Honest work?” Thieon inquired with a raised eyebrow and a grin of disbelief. “Our current trade is rather more profitable than any sort of ‘honest work’.”
“Perhaps… or perhaps not!” Radais opened the sake revealing a bounty of gold and jewels. A fortune the likes of which most bandits never even dare dream of. So wondrous was the shining lustre of the wealth that several of the other bandits gathered around their boss to gawk at it and imagine all the things they could buy with their share. “Feel free to gather around everyone.” The Princely Dragon smiled invitingly and motioned the rest of the bandits to come closer. “Here is my proposal. Act as an escort for my friends and me to Wincam. Perhaps you might start a business escorting travellers rather than….” The prince fell silent as he noticed a sudden shift in the demeanour of Thieon and his crew.
“You think… a few shiny coins can dissuade us from our calling? You have the sheer audacity to believe you can wave a few coins at us, and that will just instantly turn us into honest citizens? You clearly can not begin to fathom the realities of the world we live in. To think you could win ME the DRAGONSLAYER over with some empty promises and shiny coins.” Thieon gave him a cruel and angry scowl. “Sir… you insult me.”
“That wasn’t my intention!” Radais tried to explain himself, but Thieon wasn’t listening.
“If you wish to buy your survival this day, you’ll need to ply us with something much more valuable than mere coins!” The big man barked as his floating spheres of earth shifted into deadly sharp spiked balls.
Radais did not like that look in Thie’s eye. “And what might that be?” He inquired as he tried to keep his cool.
“Well…” Thieon began in a sing-songy voice that held a dark note. He looked past Radis, past Zhanatos, to the backsides of Xion and Larxene. “Despite the wings and tails, your lady friends are quite lovely. We’ll take *them* and your coin. All of it! Perhaps once you’ve had to live as bandits, THEN you’ll understand why your empty words offend me so.”
Thieon’s proposal was met with excited hoots and hollers from his men. A few of them even called out which of the two they wanted.
Xion and Larxene overheard the comments; less hardened warriors might be tempted to react, but years of training and discipline kept them on task. Radais had a plan, and they needed to stick to it.
“Let me make this absolutely clear….” The princely pleasantries of Radias voice were gone, replaced by a tone of boiling rage. “You shall not lay a single hand on any of my friends; those of you who try will die… painfully.” The way he said it made it plain; he didn’t offer them a threat nor a warning; he simply conveyed information.
Thieon smirked and then willed his earthen dais forward, shaping it into a blade and plunging forward, stabbing Radais through the chest!
To which the dragon prince didn’t even blink. In fact, he was affected at all. He still stood there just as he had a moment again with the earthen spike phased through his body as if it were mist.
“A ghost!” One of the bandits shrieked in surprise and jumped back.
“Quick, steal his ghost coins!” Another bandit suggested.
Zhanatos crouched down as the real Radais, who had been standing behind him the whole time concealed from view by his friends, concentrated his fire magic into a sphere. The spell began as a tiny spark and then quickly expanded into a basket-sized sun. There was a trick to using fireballs; most of the damage they did came not from the initial impact but the detonation that followed after. In order to use them most effectively, one needed to find a group of targets that were close together. Most casters found the notion of convincing the enemy to bunch to be properly fireballed to be a prosperous one; Radais, however, found that the proper application of illusion magic made the task quite simple. With a snarl of anger that echoed like the roar of the dragon, he flung the fire sphere forward aiming for the ground in the middle of the gathered group of bandits and their leader.