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He hardly seemed to need help.
Fwish. Fwish.
Two bandits shot arrows from behind the trees. The sound was faint, nearly swallowed by the breeze. They aimed low, at the legs, as if they meant to toy with their prey before killing him.
Thud.
The arrows struck the earth and bounced off with a dull sound.
The bandits behind the rocks muttered in surprise. "Huh?"
Fwish!
They tried again, but their hurried shots flew wide. Had they fled then, I'd have given them credit for judgment. Instead, they drew their blades and stepped out into the open. Thirteen of them in all, clad in hardened leather. They wielded broad blades, spears, and even shields rimmed in scavenged iron.
The lone traveler was completely surrounded. Yet, the man in the training robe didn't even draw his sword. He simply let his arms hang loosely at his sides.
To meet him here...
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