Perhaps it was bad luck that the bandits had decided to set up some sort of camp here before moving onto more targets. Or perhaps they just didn't believe what was happening as they were laying there, face down in a pool of their own blood and sinew as a lone man was fighting two more of their number. He had appeared as if on mid-air, a man whose face was partially visible from the dark cloak hood. His eyes were a sullen blue and his hair was as black as the night sky, and he was simply walking towards them with a look of neutrality on his face, neither happy nor sad. The bandits had gotten up and drawn weapons, then there was a flash of silver and the nearest bandit was clutching his stub where his hand had been. The fight hadn't lasted long, a few minutes at the most as this stranger kept on weaving a silver web of death with his longsword.

And now there were two more bandits, each one uncertain as to what to do. The man just stood there, waiting for one of them to make a move. He didn't smile, nor did he scowl... and that was what was so scary about him. During the whole battle, he had not made a single facial expression. It was as if slaughtering a whole bandit camp had meant nothing to him, as if it was just another day. One of the bandits made a move, armed with a sword of his own, he charged forward with a bloodthirsty scream intent on cutting the attacker to ribbons. But the cloaked man simply raised his sword and parried the blow, sparks flying from the contact of the metal blades. Then, faster than the eye could comprehend, there was another flash of silver that stroked across the neck of the bandit.

For a moment, there was silence.. then the bandit fell on his knees, the shock of the impact making his head roll off his shoulders and onto the floor. For a moment, the last surviving bandit could only watch as his comrade was now headless upon the ground. He was about to turn and ran, and perhaps he would have made it, but before he could even think about running, he felt a tearing sensation at his stomach. Looking down, the last bandit could only register the sight of the longsword producing from his stomach before he fell down to the ground dying.

The cloaked figure looked around him, then he bent down and wiped his blade upon the grass so as to get rid of the blood that his sword was bathed in. Then he walked past the corpses and towards the largest of the tents that the bandits had erected. He entered the tent, and then emerged a few seconds later. He was about to walk off when he heard a grunt...

Slowly turning to face the direction of the sound, the cloaked man saw one of the fallen bandits... apparently not as dead as he looked. Blood was trickling from his mouth and from a wound upon his chest. His lips moved, as if mouthing something. It was with great effort that the dying man said the words"...who sent you?"

"No-one," replied the cloaked man.

For a moment, the bandit looked confused. Then he moved his lips again and gave an even greater amount of effort to say "...why?"
The cloaked man reached into his back pocket and produced a purse full of gold coins, coins that would no-doubt help him get a bed and a meal at a tavern for quite a while. So it had come to that, he just needed money. The man didn't care that they were bandits, or perhaps he did... and maybe he thought that he would take the money after killing the group he had come across. Who could tell what he was thinking beyond the mask of a face he had?

Arthur had been tracking a group of bandits for awhile know. The people of Karamin had sent him. The bandits had taken a large amount of gold from the people in a raid and had killed many. Arthur had taken the task because it was the right thing to do not for money not for glory, but because it was the right thing. Arthur had soon found the tracks and had followed them for a few days now. He heard the sounds of a fight up ahead and Arthur unsheathed the broadsword on his back and white flames engulfed the blade to let know evil was near.

He then knew the bandits were near. He went into the trees and followed the sounds of battle and soon saw a lone man facing the bandits down. He was surprised at the agility and the speed in which the man killed the bandits. What made him worry was thought that man did it as if this was not out of the ordinary. Even Arthur who had done this thousands of times did not look like that in battle. He was not fond of battle but still it was sometimes necessary. The way the man killed these bandits almost seemed a slaughter. Not even he made it seem that. He was not merciless in fighting, he made mercy to some, and he wondered at what the man was.

The battle was soon over all of the bandits dead and the man went into a tent and came out with a sack full of gold and a bandit that survived talked to him and the man showed the gold. Arthur was a bit shocked that the man had fought them for the gold, the man was no better than the bandits he had no honor and Arthur grew angry and he sheathed his sword and took out his bow and knocked an arrow and shot the arrow at the bandit who fell with a thump and Arthur detransformed to his human state and came out from where he was and said," Not a bad job, then again I saw a worse mess on the moon facing darkness' legions". He looked at the man who was expressionless and he said," So were you hired by the people of Karamin to".