Maximillian pulled the cart along a narrow road in the middle of a forest, loaded with the crate he and Dammar had prepared for the quest. He had already spotted the three figures moving in the woods around him, but it was safe to assume there were more – probably at least one following him from behind and another one waiting somewhere on the road ahead. Five common bandits would hardly present any trouble, but as always, death would be just one mistake away and there was always the chance that one of them would know what they were doing in a fight. Among the gear they had prepared there were a couple of smoke bombs that would trigger when thrown at the ground hard enough and give Maximillian a chance to at least relocate to a safer position, but escaping from the outlaws was unlikely though, since they no doubt knew the forest like the backs of their hands.

The elf glanced at the figures one more time before making his decision to confront them then and there. He could have waited for the bandits to approach him, but there was no knowing what they had prepared if they would be allowed to choose the ambush spot as well. He nudged the cart sideways a bit and one of its wheels fell off, halting his journey and forcing the assailants to reveal themselves, if they wanted to get whatever he was supposedly ferrying.

Soon enough, a gruff looking man in badly kept armor stepped out of the woods along with two of his friends: a male elf and a female orc. “Where are your escorts? Someone like you really shouldn’t be alone in a place like this. What if you get robbed, or worse?” He asked and laughed ominously. “Maybe we could lessen the risk of that happening by taking whatever you’re hauling in that crate? Oh, and the jewelry! Can’t have those on you or you won’t be able to take a step without being held up for them.”

Maximillian looked the elf dead in the eye and gave his answer in elvish. What he said roughly translated to “Oh brother, how have you fallen so low?” Despite looking somewhat similar, most elven families and tribes had their own dialects and more importantly, different combat traditions. So if the elven bandit answered, Maximillian would get a hint on what to expect from him.

“Oh crap, it’s a man. I was being so polite for no reason!” The man who appeared to be the group’s leader sighed. “What’d he say?”

The elven bandit shrugged. “I have no idea. Something about falling down maybe? His dialect is archaic and obscure, and I’m from a literal mud cottage in a forest. But that means whatever he has is bound to be pretty valuable, right?”

He was equipped with a short sword and a bow, but since he hadn’t responded in elvish, Maximillian couldn’t tell the exact tribe he belonged to. However, if he indeed had lived in a forest, it was likely that he’d try to utilize the bow if possible, as that was what he probably hunted and had more practice with.

“Hey man, There’s no shame in being a country pumpkin.” The bandit leader said, pulled out his sword and pointed it at Maximillian’s throat. “We’ll be taking what you have. Tristan and Lucy, check the crate.”

The tip of the sword was close enough for Maximillian to grab it, but it would be a mistake to try and attack all three bandits alone, even assuming they were all there was to be worried about.

The orc was less of a mystery than the elf, as she was decked out in some heavier metal armor and carried an axe that was a bit on the larger side for even the robust-looking orc. Up close and personal was the way of the orcs, and she was not going to be the exception to the rule.

While the leader was keeping Maximillian in check, the other bandits started to inspect the crate for any openings, so they could pry the lid open. Just as the elf wedged a small knife between two boards hoping to loosen it, Maximillian spoke.

“The weather here seems interesting.” He pointed out and gazed at the clear sky above them. “Some clouds directly to the north, far darker ones in the northwest. There is also a bit of a storm further in the east, but I believe that one will clear itself in no time. I was so worried it would rain today, but that does not seem to be the case.”

The bandit leader glanced at the sky and looked confused. “What are you saying? There’s not a single cloud anywhere. You realize that you’re being robbed, right?”

Maximillian smiled. “It is going to be a beautiful day.”

As those words left his lips, the lid on the crate was launched directly at the poor bandit who was trying to open it. The force of the blow immediately knocked the elf out and removed him from the fight. Dammar, who had been hiding inside the crate, tipped it over and rolled out with a surprising amount of finesse for a dwarf of his age. He didn’t need to review the situation, as Maximillian had given him the layout disguised as a nonsensical weather forecast.

The elven adventurer himself took advantage of the confusion caused by his friend and grabbed the bandit leader’s blade. Not having expected retaliation from the dainty looking elf, the bandit was wholly unprepared and couldn’t react in time to avoid getting punched in the throat. With one swift movement, Maximillian disarmed the bandit, moved behind him and started dragging the man away from the tussle that would be happening between Dammar and the orc.

“How many more of you are there?” Maximillian asked as he took out one of his daggers from under his robes and placed it on the bandit leader’s throat.

The leader was still coughing and gasping from the punch to the throat but managed to utter a few words. “Wouldn’t you… like to know?” He obviously would require some more persuasion.

Meanwhile Dammar was quite happy with his opponent, as he didn’t shy away from women larger than himself. In fact, he was very much in his element with the orc towering over him. The first few axe swings were easy enough to avoid by stepping back, and he basically just needed to keep the orc busy until Maximillian got the information he needed from the leader or was forced to kill him. After that, the fight would be two against one and the orc would stand no chance. Not that she really had much of a chance against Dammar alone either. Her only saving grace was her superior reach compared to the dwarf and his hammer, as it kept Dammar from closing in to break a knee or two.

“We don’t have to do this, you know. There’s a far, far better alternative – if you know what I mean.” The dwarf joked while dodging the axe swings, hoping to eventually tire her out.

The orc suddenly stopped attacking. “You’re right, this is stupid.” She said and lowered her axe. “Sorry boss, I’m going to screw this weird old guy and just sorta… piss off afterwards.”

“Wait, really?” Dammar got his hopes up.

The orc swung again, this time almost hitting him. “No, you fucking idiot!”

“Damnit! Such a waste…” He sighed and took another step back to avoid the following swings.

The orc’s technique seemed lacking to Dammar, who knew a thing or two about axes as well, but her raw strength more than made up for it as there were no obvious lapses in her assault. This stalemate would continue until the orc ran out of energy, which didn’t seem to be happening any time soon, or until Maximillian did something.

However, the interrogation wasn’t really going anywhere. The bandit leader kept his mouth shut despite any further threats, which actually gave Maximillian the impression that he was indeed waiting for reinforcements of some kind. There’s no way he would have kept so calm if the three bandits were alone. Even if the orc somehow downed Dammar, it would force Maximillian to kill the leader on the spot. The orc’s carelessness was also suspicious: she didn’t even make an attempt to save her leader – almost like they were trying to stall for some reason.

Maximillian scanned the woods for movement as much as he could but saw nothing. He was starting to get nervous as the situation didn’t advance in any way for what felt like a few minutes, until a few falling leaves caught his attention. At first, he thought it was a squirrel or a bird taking off, but upon closer inspection, he could just barely make out a shadowy figure among the leaves near the treetops. The bandits had most likely been waiting for the fourth member of their band to move along the larger branches from their originally planned ambush spot. It was a decent strategy, as the fourth bandit was well hidden and was discovered only through sheer luck. If only the other three had been more patient before confronting Maximillian and waited for their friend to get into their position first, there might have been a chance for them.

“Rain from the south!” He relayed the information to Dammar.

“Aye, I’ve seen it. Won’t hit anyone from there.” The dwarf said and repositioned himself. “Let’s just end this. Switch in five, I’ve got an umbrella right here.” He instructed and shook his hammer.

This meant that Maximillian had five seconds to come up with a play to end the fight. Dammar would take care of the hiding bandit, who was most likely aiming at him anyway, as the bandit leader was too close to Maximillian for a clear shot.

After a quick glance through the rest of the treetops to make sure that the fourth bandit was all the reinforcements there actually was, he signaled his readiness to Dammar by cutting the bandit leader’s throat and kicking him into the line of fire between Dammar and the bandit in the tree. With his hands free again, Maximillian dove in to avoid becoming a new target, grabbed the lid of the crate and tossed it to Dammar.

The dwarf had been waiting for his friend to do something to get the orc off his back and understood why he suddenly was given the crate lid. The death of her leader had given the orc a new burst of strength, and when Dammar caught one of the blows with the lid, its wooden frame barely held together.

The drawback of axes was always going to be the fact that they had a tendency to get stuck, and that is exactly what happened now: when the axeblade crashed through the planks of the crate lid, Dammar only had to give it a slight nudge to stagger the orc and give himself a chance to hit her forearm, forcing her to give up the axe.

By then, Maximillian had already taken the bow from the unconscious elf and sank an arrow into the orc’s throat. With the threats closer by dealt with, he aimed at the hidden bandit, but Dammar whipped his weapon at that general direction and somehow managed to actually hit his target, who then fell from the high branch and hit the ground with a loud crunch.

“Told you I’d get them.” The dwarf boasted and wiped his brow.

Maximillian threw the bow into the cart and started to check the bodies for anything interesting. “Yes yes, impressive as always. The elf is still alive, should we just leave him?”

“Might as well, he’s not going to continue working here alone. Anna asked us to not kill people for the hand. At the very least we can leave one alive for her. The notice also said that there were probably three to five bandits here, so our quota is filled and we can report this one in.” Dammar reasoned and started looking around as well. “Do you remember which hand we were supposed to take?”