“I am going to release you now,” Chance told the bandits trapped in the grasping roots. “When that happens, do not move and you will remain unharmed. Try and run….well, just don’t.” As a threat, he knew that it rang hollow. They had seen what happened when you did run, and he didn’t have it in him to follow through on it. The best that he could do was to tangle them up again, assuming they didn’t scatter, and then they were just back where they started again. He just had to hope that with all the chaos and confusion that had happened after they had just woken up, the raging storm and the sudden death, that they would not pick up on the hollowness of it.

He gestured and the roots and grass retracted, leaving the legs of the bandits free.

Shags gave a growl and stalked forward towards them, making as if he was preparing to attack. Some of the bandits shrank back from the big wolf, though a few held their ground, even if their faces paled a touch. One man, braver, or perhaps more foolhardy than the rest, which exactly Chance could not say, tried to run. Shags was upon him before he had gone more than a few paces and before Chance could say a word. His fangs sunk into the back of the man’s leg. A scream followed and the man fell, clutching at his wounded leg, unable to walk.

Damage Inflicted: Medium

Injuries: Hamstrung.

The swiftness of the attack and the manner that the man had been brought down left the rest unwilling to risk trying it themselves, all fight going out of them. They let Snarl and Yrip bind them with cords and push them into the various tents to wait.

Chance tended to the wounded man, the one that Shags had hamstrung. Uthaq.

Damage Healed: Low

Health Remaining Unknown.

Injuries: None.

The first use of his healing magic managed to deal with the worst of the damage so that he could walk, though he still hobbled a bit. He limped away to the tents, where Snarl bound him and left him with the others.

“And all is done,” Snarl announced when the last bandit was secured.

Chance nodded slowly. The dead bandit still lay on the ground where he had fallen, in the corner of his eye. He was trying his best to avoid it, but he could not ignore what had happened.

“Why?” he asked. No one needed to ask what he meant by it.

It was him or you, Shags replied calmly. He was looking right at Chance with his large unreadable golden eyes.

Chance shook his head. “No. You saw the arrows bounce off me. His sword would have done the same.”

Maybe not. Take a closer look at the sword he was holding, Shags instructed.

Chance approached the body with a great deal of reluctance, keeping his eyes averted from it and the terrible wound torn in its throat as best as he could The sword lay near the body, where it had been dropped. .Now that he had taken a closer look at it, Chance could see that it looked unusual. Long and straight as a sword should be, the blade of it was black, and not just that, it seemed to ooze some viscous substance, one that coated its length. The voice spoke in his head as he laid eyes on it.

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Item: Longsword (Abyssal Make)

Quality: Exceptional

Damage: Medium

Traits: Venomous

Chance did not like the sound of it, and he wanted to know more about what it would do even before touching the sword. Just looking at it made him feel a touch uneasy. He searched through the parchment to try and get an understanding for what it did.

Abyssal Make

Weapons of abyssal make are said to be infused with the blood or sorcery of the abyssal realms and its denizens, the demons. Swords made of abyssal metals are potent, noted for their ability to cleave with ease through armour and defences.

Venomous Trait

Weapons with the venomous trait ooze venom that, when causing wounds, lead to lingering damage and pain that can cripple or kill the recipient over time.

Neither of those sounded pleasant at all. If the blow had landed…well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

“You knew what the sword could do?” he asked Shags.

Suspected, Shags responded. I could feel that there was something wrong about it, unnatural. I had to act. As I said earlier, I will do whatever I can to keep you alive.

“I did not want it to be like this though,” Chance said.

There was no other choice.

Chane poked at the sword with his staff. He really didn't want to touch it, or to have anything to do with it. It looked evil, and just by being near it, Chance could feel it, a presence that lent a sort of sickliness to the air. He couldn’t leave it behind, though, where anyone could find it and take it. Just like he couldn’t leave the bandits tied up; that wouldn’t solve any problems.

Snarl wandered over to join him, the tall gnoll crouching down near the sword. He sniffed at it. “Interesting,” he noted, then reached out and picked it up before Chance could do or say anything. He held it up, studying it closely.

“Why would you do that?” Chance asked. “The thing is dangerous.”

“Well, yes, it is a sword.”

“But it was made by demons.”

Snarl nodded. “Gnolls well know about demons and their weapons. We have certain immunities to it,” he added, his usual grin surprisingly absent. Instead, he was looking serious. “Enough that we can use their weapons without danger to ourselves.” He frowned, looking at the dead bandit. “You do have to wonder how such a weapon came into the possession of a common bandit though. It has a corrupting effect. It is a shame that we can’t ask him anymore.”

It was not how Chance would have described it; shame was too weak a word.

He looked towards the tents, where the bound bandits had been placed. He still didn’t know what to do next. There had been no actual plans made, not what to do after they were captured, if they were captured, certainly. He had been making it up as he went alone, which was normal for him, but had led him to a place where he couldn’t figure out how to push forward. He couldn’t kill them and he couldn’t just let them go, which left….what exactly?

“We are going to have to take them with us,” he announced. It was the only thing he could think of.

Yrip blinked and looked up at him. “Take who? The bandits?”

Chance nodded. “We hand them over to the villagers to judge. It will solve part of the bandit problem, at least around here, and the locals are better set up to deal with them.”

There are more camps, Shags pointed out, And this time we got lucky. We might not be able to do the same with the others as we did here.

“I know,” Chance replied. “We will have to work out a different plan for them.”

Snarl looked around the camp in the moonlight, grinning as he id. “If we are going to take the bandits with us, they will no longer have any use for what is left behind. We can have a good forage around, take what is of value and load it up onto the horses to take with us.”

“Whatever we find was most likely stolen in the first place,” Chance pointed out. “We will have to return it to their owners.”

“Well, obviously,” the gnoll agreed with a grin, “But it may be hard to track them all down, and if a piece or two goes missing in the process, who is to know?”

“We will, for starters,” Chance told him.

Snarl sighed, rather theatrically Chance felt. “Fine, have it your way,” he responded. Then he looked over the camp once more. “It is going to take us a while to clean up this place.” Chance raised a brow. “Figuratively I mean,” Snarl added. “Mostly.”

Chance shook his head and smiled. There was no keeping the gnoll and his cleaning down. But he had been right; it was going to take a long while to search the camp properly.