A second bandit approached. He was younger and significantly less scarred than the first, but there was a keen family resemblance in his dark hair and slate-colored eyes that was hard to miss. He looked to be around Vee’s age and was visibly trembling as he lifted his own blade and pointed it at Vee and Alforde.

“Go ahead, Nen,” said the first bandit, in a surprisingly gentle and encouraging tone. “Yeh can do it, lad.”

The boy bandit gulped and tightened his grip on his sword. “Y-your money and your l-life!”

Vee raised an eyebrow, but it was Alforde who raised a gauntleted hand and spoke up. “Far be it from me to tell you about your business, mister bandit, but isn’t the threat supposed to be ‘Your money OR your life?’ I’ve seen it quite a few times in books and such, and I’m almost certain that’s what they say.”

Nen’s face fell and he lowered his weapon before repeatedly smacking himself in the forehead. “I messed it up again! Stupid, stupid, stupid! See, Da? I told you I can’t do this!”

The older bandit shook his head and kept his sword pointed right at Vee as he looked at his son. “Yeh’re doing fine, son. Yeh just need to relax a little bit. That’s why we’re here out here practicin’. Here, go ahead, give it another try. These guys won’t try nothin’, right?”

This last sentence was directed to Vee, and with it came a prod with the sword that was almost polite.

“Of course not,” Vee said as he forced himself to smile like this was someone counting out an endless stream of petals at the market instead of a criminal encounter. “Go ahead and try as many times as you need.”

“Thanks,” said Nen as he lifted his weapon once more. Clearing his throat and closing his eyes, the young bandit took a moment to collect himself, and then opened his eyes and hollered “Alright scumbags, it's like this! Your money OR your life!”

The older bandit took one hand off his sword to flash his son a thumbs up.

Vee wasn’t totally sure about that whole being called a scumbag thing, but let the matter slide as there was still a sharp sword pointed at him. He explained that he kept his moneybag inside his friend’s chest and needed to retrieve to be given some space in order to extract it.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Nen’s father said, raising a wary eyebrow. “Sounds like yer tryin’ to buy yerself some time to get a weapon or somethin’ like that. I don’t like it.”

Alforde pried the door on his chestplate open and pointed inside. “Would it ease your concerns if you took a look for yourself? I can describe Vee’s moneybag to you if you’d prefer to remove it instead of having him do it. Giving the hostage the ability to move freely is unwise, I agree. For all you know we could be strong adventurers in disguise, waiting for our chance to free ourselves from this situation and put you in such a poor state that you beg for the justice of the law?”

Nen tilted his head to the side. “You’re kind of wordy for an armorsoul, aren’t you? Most of the ones back at the academy used to—”

“Not another word, Nen,” coached his dad. “Rule of the trade. No idle conversations. Remember?”

“Sorry, Da.”

“There’s just one thing about the money,” Vee said quietly.

“What’s that?”

But before Vee could answer, there was a mighty crash and the carriage driver hopped down from her seat. She was a middle aged woman with dark skin and curly hair, and she wore bright silver armor. It was on fire. So was her long, rune-covered sword. Her eyes glowed the same color as the flames, and she seemed less like a person than some sort of vengeful being descended from the heavens to punish evildoers.

The older bandit swore. “Cris, weren’t you supposed to make sure that the driver was asleep?”

Another boy, this one younger than Nen poked his head out from behind a tree and sheepishly scratched his ear. He wore a simple robe and carried a gnarled staff. A [Spellcaster] of some sort, then, though it was basically impossible to tell exactly what type. Putting people to sleep was a pretty low level skill for [Spellcasters] to have, after all. His smile was crooked and three silver hoops hung from each of his ears. “Sorry ‘bout that, Da. I got her with my [Sleepytime] skill, but I guess her resistances were too high for it to work for long.”

The carriage driver pointed her fiery sword at the old bandit. “Lower your weapons, gentlemen, or I, Maryanne Deispulle, [Holy Paladin] in the employ of Sacre’s Carriage Company, shall engage you in battle!”

There was a tense moment as the paladin studied the bandits and vice versa, and then the older bandit threw back his head and laughed.

“Maryanne? Gawain’s balls, I didn’t recognize yeh through all that fire. That [Righteous Zeal] is pretty blindin’.”

The paladin stood still for a few seconds, and then she laughed too. Her flames faded and her eyes returned to normal. She sheathed her sword and pulled her cape back around her armor so that it looked like a cloak once again, the way it had when Vee and Alforde had first boarded the carriage.

“Bert Hallstrum, is that really you? What are you doing here, you old scallywag?”

“Reckon yeh can see that for yerself,” Bert said with another laugh. “I’m out here showin’ me boys the ropes of the family business. Nen’s got a strong arm, but his nerves are keepin’ him from going and working down on the southern trade routes. The crews down there are all run real tight, and they don’t take kindly to mistakes, so he needs to sharpen up a bit before headin’ down there. Cris is looking to take over the band when I retire, so I figured the three of us would come out here and pillage a nice easy carriage.”

Maryanne shook her head. “Well, I’m afraid that I can’t let you steal from my passengers. You know that Sacre takes any losses incurred as a result of bandit claims out of my paycheck?”

“Always how it goes, innit? But, it sounds to me like we’re at an impasse, eh? My boys need the experience that comes with robbing a carriage proper, and yeh need to protect yer customers or its skin right off yer neb. Probably going to be messy business, I reckon. Real messy.”

Everyone was quiet and the jovial spirit that had filled the air a few moments ago was gone once again, replaced by a boiling teakettle’s tension. Now it was Vee’s turn to speak up. He held up a hand.

“Excuse me. I think I might have a solution to this situation that we can all agree with. Fighting here isn’t going to be particularly beneficial to any of us, and there’s a young salamander aboard the carriage who would probably be frightened if you all started throwing down.”

Bert gave him a wolfish grin. “That’s the intent, innit?”

When Vee didn’t return his grin, he shook his head and grumbled. “That’s the problem with this generation. They’re all pacifists. You’ve got a plan though, huh? Well, let’s hear it, then.”

Vee gestured to Alforde and fished his moneybag out of the armorsoul’s chest. He opened it up and showed the bandits the small collection of silver fleurs inside. In all honesty, he didn’t really have a plan for how to diffuse the situation, but he was hoping that he could buy himself enough time to think of one. That had always been his strong suit: thinking.

“As you can see, I’m not particularly wealthy, but this would be a decent little haul, right?”

Bert gestured to Nen, who stepped forward and counted it quickly. “Twenty six silver fleurs, Da.”

“Aye, that’s a reasonable day’s work,” the older bandit said as he folded his arms across his chest expectantly.

Well, here it was, the moment of truth. Vee felt a flash of inspiration – or perhaps it was desperation – , but had no idea if it would work. Nothing to do but try though, right?

“Is this enough to hire you to protect the carriage until we get the rest of the way to Oar’s Crest?” Vee asked. “I’m sure that given your line of work you know all about the recent rise in bandit attacks on carraiges.” He punctuated this point with a big wink, and Bert winked back to show that he understood.

“If you agree, you’ll get what you want, and since you’re not technically stealing from carriage passengers, Maryanne won’t have to pay Sacre. It’s a win-win!”

Bert stroked his chin, deep in thought. He looked over at Maryanne. “Well, there have been some rumors about a real nasty [Bandit Lord] around these parts. I guess we could make that work and lend you a hand. There’s always another carriage next week for the boys to practice on. That alright with yeh, Maryanne? What do yeh say?”

The paladin nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, this is no different than if he’d gambled all his money away at a rest stop. Sacre doesn’t hold me responsible for that, so I don’t have any objections.”

And with that, the matter was basically settled. Vee handed over his money bag, which contained his every last fleur, and Nen removed the coins, pocketed them, and gave the empty bag back.

Vee took it and felt that familiar tickling sensation in his skull once again.

[You have unlocked the Poor Negotiator Class! Would you like to take it?]

Naturally, Vee rejected such an obviously bad class, and whatever the powers were that governed classes and such things offered a compensatory +1 to his Faith instead, which he was glad to see. Compensation points were pretty rare, but for most people they were a nice way of making one feel better about not taking an offered class. For Vee though, they were just a little bonus for doing the thing he was going to do anyways.

Claiming that she was eager to get moving once again – being late also apparently incurred a penalty to her paycheck – Maryanne clambered back up to the top of the carriage. She moved surprisingly quickly, given how heavy her armor must have been, and Vee marveled at her strength. She was joined up there by Cris. Vee heard the young bandit ask about how she’d resisted his sleep spell and then the two of them were too hard to hear. Nen and Bert dusted themselves off and climbed inside the carriage to ride along with the rest of the passengers until they reached Oar’s Crest.

Alforde hung back a moment and grabbed Vee’s arm. “Are you sure that was wise? That was the rest of your money, wasn’t it? How are we going to pay for food and lodging once we get to Oar’s Crest?”

Vee shrugged. “I didn’t see any better options in the moment, did you? I’m pretty sure Maryanne would have wiped the floor with those three, but there’s always the chance that she wouldn’t and I didn’t feel like risking it. This way, we have no money, but we’re all safe, which is what’s really important. As for food and lodging in Oar’s Crest, we’ll figure it out once we get there. I’m sure there are some construction crews who’d be happy to hire you, and I can find a job too. We’ll be fine.”

“I sure hope so,” Alforde said as he adjusted his helmet and returned to the carriage. Vee followed after him, and winked at the little salamander girl as he walked by. She grinned back.

“See? I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Her grandfather gave Bert and Nen a significant glance and looked back at Vee. “All taken care of?”

“Yup. They wanted to warn us that there have been some bandits on the roads recently,” Vee lied. “So they offered to ride along with us until we get to Oar’s Crest to make sure that nothing bad happens.”

“That’s great!” the little salamander said. She waved happily at Nen, who blushed and returned the gesture. She bowed at Vee and Alforde. “Thank you both so much!”

“We didn’t really do much,” Vee said, feeling his own cheeks redden.

Bert snorted and sauntered to the back of the carriage, where he reclined next to the window. He put his hands behind his head, licked his lips and fell asleep almost instantly. That must have been a skill, Vee thought. But let’s see how well it works once we’re moving again. This road is more treacherous than you are, bandit.

A few minutes later, the carriage clunked back to life and they resumed their bouncing trek towards Oar’s Crest.

Vee sat back down next to Alforde and glared at Bert. He was ready for the moment when the man snapped back to consciousness, but it didn’t come. Further proof that life was unfair.

[You have unlocked the Spiteful Observer Class. Would you like to take it?]

Vee shook his head and the prompt faded. No compensation skill point this time.

Nen was sitting in front of him, and the young bandit turned around and produced a grubby deck of cards. Now that Vee didn’t have to worry about having a sword pointed at him, he felt that there was something familiar about the boy’s appearance. Actually, now that he thought about it, Nen had mentioned the academy. Perhaps they’d both been students there.

“Care to play a game?” Nen asked. “It’ll help pass the time. We’re probably a day or so from Oar’s Crest.”

“Sure,” said Vee, the kernel of another idea popping in his skull. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to make a wager on it? Maybe give me a chance to win my money back?”

The other boy grinned. “What have you got to wager?”

Vee popped open Alforde’s chest and drew out his medicine bag once more. The armorsoul glared at him, and Vee made a mental note to not fiddle around inside his inventory for at least the next few hours. He opened it up and showed the contents to the young bandit, who whistled at the sight of the bottles and liquids.

“Some of those are worth a heavy purse,” Nen said. “But if you’re willing to risk ‘em, I’m happy to let you.”

And so, the two played as the carriage bounced them up and down the road leading to Oar’s Crest.

Alforde and Vee’s Stat Sheets:

Vee Vails:

Primary Class: Ghost Maestro (Locksmagister University), Level 13

Secondary Class: None

Might: 6

Wit: 18

Faith: 11 (+1)

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Clunker (Vee Vails), Level 9

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vails), level 7

Might: 12

Wit: 10

Faith: 20