Drake, now Level 12, continued his journey north through the vast Whispering Plains, the landscape gradually shifting from open grasslands to rolling foothills dotted with sparse trees and ancient, weathered stones. His [Relic Hunter] skill remained active, a constant low drain on his stamina, while his eyes scanned the horizon. His perfected [Basic Slash] and [Defend], combined with the immense power of [Relentless Assault] when activated, made short work of the Level 12 Plains Striders and Level 13 Stonehide Boars he encountered. Combat against single targets or small groups felt almost trivial, building his confidence perhaps a little too much.
It was as he crested a low ridge overlooking a section where the old trade route snaked through a shallow valley that the grim reality of the wilds intruded. Below, the scene was one of recent devastation. An overturned merchant wagon lay splintered on its side, its cargo – bolts of cloth, sacks of grain, smashed crates – scattered haphazardly across the path. Further inspection revealed darker signs: scorch marks suggestive of crude explosives or basic fire magic, broken arrows fletched in a rough, inconsistent style, and the distinct tracks of numerous booted humanoids mingling with signs of a desperate, failed defense. Worst of all were the bodies – two unfortunate caravan guards lay sprawled near the wreckage, their basic armor pierced, alongside the merchant himself, cut down near his overturned wagon.
"Bandits. A large group, judging by the tracks and the state of the guards. This wasn't just wildlife." He activated [Relic Hunter], scanning the scene more closely. The skill highlighted scuffed boot prints leading away from the road towards a series of rocky hills to the east, along with discarded remnants – a torn piece of rough leather bearing a crude insignia, a broken flask reeking of cheap ale. "Organized enough to use insignia... sloppy enough to leave trash. Track leads east."
Just as he was contemplating following the trail out of a mix of caution and curiosity, he heard a choked sob. Hidden behind a large boulder nearby, huddled and weeping, was a young woman NPC, likely a passenger or assistant who had miraculously survived the slaughter. She looked up in terror as Drake approached.
"Please... don't hurt me!" she stammered, shrinking back.
"Easy there," Drake said, keeping his voice calm, his [Known Hand] title perhaps softening his approach slightly in the NPC's perception. "I'm an adventurer. Looks like you ran into serious trouble here."
Relief washed over the woman's face, quickly followed by renewed grief. "Bandits... they came out of nowhere! So many of them... Master Borin..." she gestured towards the slain merchant, "They took everything... gold, supplies... even my grandmother's locket! It was all I had left of her!"
A quest prompt appeared. << Quest Offered: [Merchant's Woe] - The bandits who raided Master Borin's caravan stole a precious [Grandmother's Silver Locket] from his assistant, Lyra. Investigate the bandits and attempt to recover the locket. Reward: 2000 EXP, 1 Gold Coin, +100 Oakhaven Regional Faction Reputation. >>
"Recover a locket... probably from the main camp. And decent EXP plus actual Gold. Okay, this gives me a solid reason to track them down." He accepted the quest from the distraught Lyra.
"Thank you, adventurer! They went that way," she pointed east, confirming the direction of the tracks Drake had found. "Towards the Blackfang Ravine, I think Master Borin called it. Be careful, there were so many..."
Drake nodded grimly. "I will." He advised Lyra to head back towards Oakhaven as quickly and carefully as possible, then turned east, following the scuffed trail left by the bandit group.
He moved cautiously now, [Relic Hunter] active, scanning for ambushes or patrols. The trail led him away from the open plains into increasingly rugged terrain, winding through rocky hills and sparse, thorny brush. After nearly an hour of careful tracking, avoiding minor mob spawns to maintain focus, he reached a vantage point overlooking a narrow, winding ravine – Blackfang Ravine.
Tucked deep within a natural basin, concealed from the main trade routes, was the Bandit Camp. And it was far larger and more organized than he expected. A crude but effective palisade wall constructed from sharpened logs and reinforced with scavenged metal encircled a collection of ragged tents and lean-tos. Rough watchtowers stood at the corners, manned by bandit archers (Levels visible: 12-14). Inside the walls, Drake could see numerous figures moving about – bandits sharpening weapons, cooking over fires, hauling supplies likely stolen from caravans like Master Borin's. He counted at least twenty, maybe thirty individuals within easy sight, and likely more inside the tents or deeper cave systems the ravine seemed to lead into.
"Okay, this is way more than a random group of thugs. This is an established camp. Thirty plus bandits, Levels 12-15 maybe? Palisades, archers... A frontal assault is suicide, even with my skills." His 100% [Defend] could block one hit perfectly, but not arrows from five directions at once while three brutes charged him with clubs.
He needed a different approach. Storming the gate was out. Sneaking in might be possible, but risky without dedicated stealth skills. The best option seemed to be weakening them or finding an alternative entry point first.
"Lyra mentioned Blackfang Ravine... the nearby settlements must know about this camp. They're probably terrorizing the whole area. Maybe the locals have quests? Information? Weaknesses?"
Recalling the general direction he'd traveled from Oakhaven and consulting his map, he identified the nearest sign of civilization – a small farming village called 'Stonebridge Crossing' located a few miles south of the ravine, likely reliant on the trade route the bandits were plaguing. That seemed the logical place to start gathering intelligence.
Leaving his concealed vantage point, Drake carefully circled away from the ravine, ensuring no patrols spotted him, and headed towards Stonebridge Crossing. He arrived about thirty minutes later. The village was small, nestled near a river crossing, its atmosphere palpably tense. Villagers eyed him warily, and the local militia (a handful of poorly equipped Level 8-10 guards) looked nervous.
He approached the village innkeeper first, leveraging his [Known Hand] title. "Heard there's been bandit trouble along the trade route," Drake stated casually after ordering a cheap ale.
The innkeeper sighed heavily. "Trouble? It's strangling us, adventurer! That nest up in Blackfang Ravine... they raid nearly every caravan now. Guards can't handle 'em, too many, too organized. Folks are scared to travel."
Drake nodded sympathetically. "Anyone trying to fight back? Any specific problems they're causing besides hitting the main caravans?" He used [Perfect Recall] to scan his memory for any Oakhaven rumors about Stonebridge, but found nothing specific beyond its location.
The innkeeper leaned closer. "Fight back? We try. Old Farmer Giles, south field? They keep stealing his prize sheep. Says he'll offer a reward if someone can recover his [Prized Ewe Bell]. And Marta, the woodswarden? Bandits keep setting crude traps on her hunting paths, stealing her snares. She's furious, wants someone to clear out the small patrols setting them near the 'Whispering Falls' area." He also mentioned the Guard Captain was desperate for any concrete information on the bandit leader or patrol schedules.
Notifications popped up as the innkeeper spoke, confirming available quests based on his information. << Quest Available: [Farmer Giles's Bell] >> << Quest Available: [Warden Marta's Trap Problem] >> << Quest Available: [Eyes on Blackfang] >>
Drake mentally accepted all three. "Perfect. Recovering a bell, clearing patrols near the falls, scouting routines... These side quests will let me gather intel, possibly weaken their outer strength, and maybe even reveal a weakness or hidden entrance to the main camp. Much smarter than charging the front gate."
With a clear plan now – tackle these local quests first – Drake finished his ale, thanked the innkeeper, and headed out of the village, ready to begin dismantling the bandit threat piece by piece.