“There was a time,” the farmer, who went by the name of Theras, began to explain, “When these lands were at peace, ruled over by the High King of the Crystal Peaks.” Theras had brought them over to his farmhouse and had seated them at a rough-made wooden table set up outside, upon which he had set some coarse brown bread, a roll of cheese and a clay jug of some drink that Chance did not know but that smelled most potent. He avoided the drink but took a small slice of cheese and bread. Plain as they were, they were a welcome change from what he had been mostly eating, especially the cheese.

Theras had not taken them inside, which did not surprise Chance all that much. The man remained wary and, according to Shags, still smelt of great fear. Besides, it was a pleasant day out to sit around in the warmth of the sun and to eat and drink.

“Then strife came upon the nations,” Theras continued, cradling a mug of the drink between his hands. “The old High King fell and there was none to replace him for many squabbled over their rights to the title. With him gone and the lands in turmoil, there were none to opposes the Elen Talese any more, and they pushed south, imposing their rigid views upon the lands. Many fled, seeking what shelter that they could, and no small number of them ventured onto the plains of Yereshalzar. The land here is good, fertile and well watered, but laying as it does between the Elen Talese and the lands of the Zhurazhi, it is fraught with risk. Still, we had nowhere else that we could go, and so we stayed and built communities as best we could. The enmity between the Elen Talese and the Zhurazhi would have been trouble enough, but then came the dragon, to raid and pillage. If it is gone, that is welcome news, but in its wake came more troubles. Bandits arose in many parts, the nearest here being those that dwell in the hills of Arshatar, and they are a plague upon those who live here, both on the farms and in the town. Those at Arshatar have given me an ultimatum, to supply them with the goods that they desire, or…well, I have a family you see,” he ended, his face contorted with fear and concern.

Chance looked over to the farmhouse. “Your family are in there?” he asked quietly.

Theras nodded slowly. “They remain hidden away. I can not let the bandits take them, but I can not fight them either. I am just a farmer and there are many of them. I did not know what to do, but your arrival is a blessing from the gods. If you are able to deal with them, I would be grateful beyond words.”

Chance scratched at his beard, realised what he was doing and pulled his hand away. “I see.” He looked around at his friends seated nearby. It was not what he had expected when he had left Azval Stalvaq, to find a land beset by turmoil. Not did he relish a confrontation but he couldn’t just abandon Theras and his family to the bandits. “It is not just you that they target?”

Theras shook his head. “No. They target everyone who lives nearby. Many farms now lay abandoned, their owners either dead of having fled. The towns overflow, with not enough food for all to eat, and we have no one to turn to now that the High King no longer watches over us. We are but simple folk, farmers, herders, crafters, not warriors.”

“Where are these hills?” Chance asked quietly. The plight of the man, the pleading in his voice were such that there was no way he could refuse to help. By the looks of him, Theras did not have much, and the bandits wanted to take even that. He had never wanted for anything in his life, could not imagine what it must be like, and so had difficulties understanding what the man was going though, even though he knew that it did happen. There were poor people but his world and theirs never mixed, and so to be met with it face to face was confronting.

That there were those willing to take advantage of it, that he did understand. All too well. He had done so with Yrip, and he knew others that had done much worse.

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Theras pointed off towards the north. “It is a few hours travel that way. You can’t miss it, for the hills rise up out of the plains, affording a good view all around.”

“Which means that unless they are blind, they can not be taken by surprise,” Snarl pointed out.

“You are probably right,” Theras agreed. “I had not really considered that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chance told him, giving a smile that was more reassuring than he actually felt. It worried him. “What can you tell me of the closest village? What is it called, and who is in charge there?”

“That would be Estethford, downstream from here. Mayor Hilesia was in charge the last I knew, but with so many new arrivals there seeking shelter and the bandit attacks, it is hard to say just who is in charge.”

“I plan to visit there soon,” Chance said. “I am sure that they would welcome news that this particular band of bandits weren’t a threat anymore.”

“They would be overjoyed by that,” Theras told him. “Mostly.”

Chance arched an eyebrow. “Mostly?”

“They aren’t all bad men,” Theras explained. “Many were simply desperate, and as things got worse felt they had no other options. Some even have families still living in the farms and villages.”

“That does complicate things,” Chance frowned. He had hoped to find civilisation so that he could do some trading, but that now seemed a forlorn hope as long as the bandits remained. The presence of their families among the community limited his options as well. “We will go and see them and see what can be done about the situation,” he said.

“Thank you, thank you,” Theras responded, clasping his hands together. “We don’t have much, but whatever you want you can have.”

Chance shook his head. Once he might have taken Theras up on the offer, but no more. “You need it more than I do. You take care of your family. We will return as soon as we know more.”

Collecting up his staff and spear, Chance rose from the table and strode off with his friends, headed north in the direction that Theras had indicated. As he did, a message spoke loud in his mind;

Optional Quest received: The Bandit Plague

The verdant plains of Yereshalaz are plagued by bandits; the simple folk who live there struggle under the deprivations of their oppressors. Should they be removed, the lands might flourish once more, to become rich and productive.

Reward: Reputation Boost (Yereshalaz).

Reputations were a new thing. It made sense that now that he had departed the tutorial area they be introduced. And a boost would never hurt if he was planning on making deals with the people of Yereshalaz, to trade with them. He felt better for taking the quest, though part of him did wonder just how he would accomplish it. If many of them were simply desperate men then he did not want a confrontation. And the thought of just straight up killing them disturbed him. They were people, with lives and families. He still wasn’t sure whether this was some form of game or not, but if it wasn’t it was doubly disturbing. Even if it was, it felt real, and so would killing. Some among them might have fallen into evil, but he still didn’t have it in him to just kill them.

What is your plan? Shags asked as they left the farm behind them, heading out onto the grasslands that lay before them.

“I don’t have one yet,” Chance admitted. “I want to see the place and what we have to deal with first.”

Snarl cackled and gave his broom a twirl. “That has a certain simplicity to it.”

“He has powerful magic,” Yrip pointed out loyally. “The bandits will not be able to stand up to that.”

“Let's hope that it doesn’t come to that,” Chance responded earnestly. “I'd rather talk to them first.”

“An odd way to deal with them,” Snarl mused, “But it takes all sorts.”

I am not sure that they will be all that receptive to talking.

“I have to do it,” Chance explained, striding on ahead. “It has to be this way.”

No matter what you decide, we will stand with you.