I learned an entirely new meaning for "driving a hard bargain" when I discussed - yes, really - the upcoming fight with the bandits and their leader.

To say that they were unhappy about the idea of fighting Garbus, the man that was responsible for razing no less than fifteen different bandit camps in this kingdom alone, was a huge understatement. None of them wanted to do it. So I needed to throw in a few incentives.

"Hey, but you have the chance to prepare for him now," was one of the things I said to them. "And think of all the loot - he is loaded with gold and magic items."

"That does nothing for us if he splits us in half like he does with demons," one of the bandits responded, and all the others nodded in agreement. He later introduced himself as Puddle. I asked him where he got his name from, but he wouldn't answer that.

The materialistic way would not work on them, so I applied to their sense of glory and fame. "You know how epic this battle would sound from the lips of a bard like me? People all over the kingdom will want to hear that story. You will become legends."

"We'll still be dead," a female bandit cried from the back, whose name I learned to be Carrot, thanks to her bright red curly hair.

"Well... not if he doesn't kill us," another bandit suggested - I think it was the one named Hunk this time. "If he doesn't use his weapons."

"Don't you think that would be a bit unfair?" I asked him.

"Yes," he admitted freely. "That's why we'll use ours - at least we'll have a fighting chance then."

He had a point, I gave him that. I promised that I would suggest that to him. Also I promised not to fight alongside him, but to be a passive observer. That way I could make sure that the tale about this would be the best tale possible. 

As the last condition for it all to work out, I had to make sure that all the bandits' names would be given in the story. So apart from Puddle, Carrot and Hunk that you have met already, we had Butch, Blade, Frida (apparently she couldn't come up with an appropriate bandit name). There were both Stinky and Smelly (and even downwind, they stayed true to their names), and also Skunk. We had Thorne, Sting, Stabby, Smasher, Scalper and Bone. A guy named Parrot was on watch somewhere, someone named Bull manned the kitchen tent (which was basically just a cauldron on a campfire and a huge chest that smelled of spices and liquor), and Keenan was the leader of the group.

With all of that settled I returned to Garbus who waited patiently a few hundred paces outside the camp. When I explained the situation to him, he did not hesitate before he took off his sword and all of his other weapons and left them on his horse. The look that his animal gave him reminded me strongly of the bandits - as it snickered, I thought that I even could understand that it asked Garbus whether this was a freaking joke. Not that it hadn't carried both Garbus and his entire arsenal without any complaints before. But apparently the weapons weighed a lot less while Garbus was still carrying them.

I picked a spot to watch it all from a safe distance and waited. Soon Garbus turned up in the camp, unarmed as promised. The bandits were at least a bit sportive about it - enclosing him in a half circle before attacking him, but at least nobody tried a sneaky attack from behind. While Garbus had stored his weapons away, he was still wearing his armor - and too late I realized that this included his heavily armored gauntlets. Boy, the bandits had pulled the short straw on this one!

Was this battle epic, as I hoped it would be? Certainly! You should have seen it - but I guess you'd have had to be there for it. I can tell you how the hero of Nivella went through the hordes of bandits storming at him with everything they got, slapping them left and right that I could hear the metallic clonking sound of his gauntlets on their faces. But nothing I could say here would do it justice. While I was sure that everybody in this encounter would survive it, I wasn't exactly sure if that was merciful or not. Maybe a quick death would have been much more pleasant than what he did to the Butt Kickers. I felt very sorry for Keenan and his people.

CLONK! CLASH! PLING! That was one of the few swords they swung, that was parried with a protected hand by Garbus. He caught the blade and snapped it in half with one hand. Then he punched the bandit - I recognized him as Blade - in the belly, making him fly a few feet through the air before he landed on the kitchen tent and flattened it completely.

I knew from the beginning that he would make quick work of the bandits, but even then I was surprised how little time it took. Garbus walked right through the camp, and while Keenan was the last one attacking him with a somewhat brave, but foolish warcry, the rest that was not lying on the ground and groaning in pain had left in a hurry. I knew that even as the bandit leader, hence the strongest and meanest of them all, Keenan would pose no threat to Garbus. So I already climbed down from my spot when I heard another CLONK - a fist blow from above on Keenan's head that practically rammed him into the ground like a hammer onto an innocent nail - and stood near Garbus when the fight finally died down.

"So, where is she?" he asked. I pointed towards Keenan's tent. He made a few mighty steps towards it, but I took a moment to look after Keenan. As I hoped, he was still alive - though his head looked a bit like a sweetroll someone had dropped on the floor and stepped on. I asked him whether he was alright, given the circumstances, and he responded with a raised thumb. Then I followed Garbus into the tent.

For some strange reason Keenan had put the bag on Elynea's head again - probably because she insisted again. When Garbus freed her of that thing and saw her face, he looked a bit perplexed. He turned around to me. "That is not who we are looking for," he said.

Elynea also looked at me, her eyes spoke as much as her grunts into the gag. I was a bit surprised, too. "What do you mean, she's not who we are looking for? I mean... yes, I had expected someone else myself, but only because she..."

"Mmpf hmmm mpf!"

"Oh, she asks whether you could please remove her gag already," I added with a side glance to Elynea, one that she hopefully understood. Even in a situation like this, there was no reason not to be polite.

At least Garbus behaved as knightly as was needed in that situation. As soon as he freed the woman from this nasty gag and started carefully untying the knots around her entire body, she became strangely quiet, but her breath became more agitated and faster by the minute. "Are you alright?" I asked her worriedly.

"Shut it!" she just hissed between two breaths while the warrior unwrapped long pieces of rope from her upper body. Her hands were bound as well, and Garbus quickly untied them. He didn't realize how big of a mistake he had made with that.

Suddenly, even though he wasn't finished, Elynea had wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her lips onto his and did something to him that at first looked like she was sucking his life force out of his body. But after a few seconds I realized that it was just a very passionate kiss. One that lasted unexpectedly long, especially since I could see Garbus glancing at me from the side, wondering what the hell was going on here.

But after what felt like seven days and eight nights, she would let go of him, so he could finally untie the rest of her. He didn't say one word after it, but I noticed that her breath also calmed down for the moment - enough for her to utter breathlessly: "I am all yours, noble hero."

Remember how I told you that I tend to make things worse for me in some situations? Want to hear about another example of this? Well... while my travel companion was busy working through some knotted rope around the legs of this quite beautiful young woman, I stepped next to her and tabbed her lightly on her shoulder. "Do I get one, too?" I asked her with a smile that I thought of as charming.

One second later I did not need to wonder anymore how the bandits outside this tent felt, lying on the ground with the imprint of a strong hand on their faces. I had a first-hand experience with this. Yes, the pun is intended - sue me!