The bandit continued to sing for some time, longer than Chance had expected, and far longer than he could tolerate. If the situation hadn’t been so desperate, Chance would have laughed, if only to stop himself from crying. Whatever the song was that he was trying to sing, he was butchering it, and it offended Chance’s sensibilities as the lead singer of a rock band. Someone so bad at it should not be allowed to sing and to leave it to those who had some skill in it. Like himself. But he couldn’t do anything but sit there and endure, digging his owl talon in tight to keep from making a sound.

Gradually, but not fast enough, the singing became more broken, with longer pauses in between. The bandit dropped the jug he held and then slumped forward himself, snoring away. If their sentry acted this way when on watch, the bandits must not have been too concerned about it, Chance reasoned. They could possibly have walked right in, unnoticed, saving themselves a lot of skulking about.

Snarl crept out of the shadows and towards the slumbering bandit, holding some of the cords in his hands. He knelt down beside the man and swiftly bound his hands and feet together, leaving him laying on his side in the shelter. When that was done, he cut a strip of cloth from the man’s tunic with a dagger and used the cloth to gag him so that, on the off chance he woke, he would not yell for help.

A grin split the gnoll’s face as he admired his handiwork, before he began to search the bandit, taking a dagger from him and a small pouch that jingled with coins.

You would take from them? Chance heard Shags ask.

Snarl grinned at that, trying to restrain from cackling. “They stole it in the first place,” he responded, speaking quietly. “Consider it foraging.”

There is another bandit on guard duty further alone, Chance announced, flapping his tawny wings as flew above them. We could deal with him, or instead head straight to the camp.

“Was he as drunk as this one?” Snarl asked. “If he was, we could sneak up on him just as easily. If he isn’t, it might be harder and one mistake could alert the camp.”

I will check, Chance told them, gliding off through the air with barely a whisper of sound, heading across the hill towards the other peak that he had seen the second bandit head for.

As he neared it, he could see and hear the other bandit, not under the shelter, but walking about, peering out across the moon-silvered plains. Unlike the one he had left behind, this one was awake and alert. Sneaking up on him would be very hard, and fraught with danger.

Chance turned about again rather than get too close, heading back to re-join his companions on the peak they had climbed. Once he was back, he landed and shifted out of the shape of the owl, to stand again as he had been. The owl had done its job, to get him there and scout around, but now he needed to be himself again, to have use of his hands and the druidic magic should the need arise.

“That one is awake and alert,” he said quietly. “It might be possible to reach him unseen, but I can’t see how we could subdue him easily without him having a chance of raising the alarm.”

There might be a way, Shags announced.

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“Would he be alive at the end of it?”

He might be.

Chance shook his head firmly. “No. We will leave him alone for now. We will go down to the camp instead, and attempt to restrain the sleeping bandits.”

“And if that goes wrong?’ Yrip asked, his concern obvious by the way he moved and clasped his hand in the manner he did when uncertain or worried.

“Then we try and reason with them,” Chance told them firmly.

I think you might be being optimistic about our chances with reasoning with them, but we shall try it, for your sake.

Chance started off down the slope, making his way with care, picking a path along the trail that had been made up the hill. The last thing that he wanted to do was to stumble or make too much noise on his descent in the dark. The others followed after, as quiet as ever. If he had not known they were there, he might have missed them all together. Shags comments had troubled him to an extent. He knew that Shags was a wolf, and not a tame one either, but wild and dangerous. Still, the way that he had talked of taking down the bandit showed a much more ruthless, pragmatic side than he was used to seeing. It was upsetting, and worse, he knew that Shags could feel it and there was no way to stop that.

You are not as other druids are, he heard Shags say, and knew that this was for him alone, that the others could not hear it.

I am not really one, much as I do try to act the part.

No, that is not it. Druids are of nature, defenders of it, and nature can be merciless at times. It is always a struggle to survive, one of life and death where the weak are culled. I know enough of you that you have never had to experience that side of being a druid, and so it is hard for you to adjust to that.

I don't know if I ever will, Chance admitted.

If it is so, then it is so, and I will do all that I can to keep you alive, as is my role.

There was no judgement in Shags words, at least, for which Chance was thankful. The wolf never really judged, merely offering opinions and advice, allowing Chance to make up his own mind.

Chance managed to make it all the way down the rough trail without incident, standing on the flatter ground of the dell. Across from them, they could see the bandit camp waiting, a few small fires still flickering, but with no signs of sound or activity coming from it. Now the most dangerous part of their plan was about to start, to sneak into the camp without waking any of the sleeping bandits and to subdue and bind them before they could do anything about it.

Starting forward, they were brought to a sudden stop as they caught the sound of one of the horses where it was tethered over by the pool, snorting and pawing at the ground.

My presence here disturbs them, Shags alerted Chance. They are easily spooked.

“If they make too much noise…”

Yes, they might disturb the camp and wake them. You will have to deal with them.”

“Me?” Chance wasn’t too sure what Shags meant by deal with them.

You are a druid, more or less. You have their skills, their powers even if not quite their beliefs. You can calm them own, keep them pacified so that they will not cause alarm while the bandits are being bound.

Chance looked to the others, who had crouched down and were waiting. He would have to go ahead, by himself, and try to do something about the horses. He was not a complete stranger to the beasts, as his mother had insisted on him having riding lessons, and so he knew the basics of how to care for them, but all that had been a long time ago. And those horses had already been calm before he got to them. He took a sharp breath.

“Wait here,” he whispered and, crouched down low so as to try and avoid any chance of being seen, he started across the dell towards where the restless horses waited.