Merlin picked up on the faint scent of blood, a feeling of panic ran through his body, he suddenly stopped walking. The two bandits turned around, noticing that Merlin had raised his guard and looked to be on edge.

"What's the matter?" The younger bandit asked. The other bandit's eyes narrowed, Merlin noticed this but he wasn't sure what thoughts were running through his head.

"I smell blood." Merlin answered. He wasn't sure what the bandit camp would be like, but it was somewhat common for the camps of more violent races to have corpses laying around. He wasn't sure if this was the case with this particular bandit camp, or if the scent of blood was coming from somewhere else... or something else.

The young bandit started sniffing the air around him in an exaggerated manner before turning back to Merlin and shrugging. The other bandit's narrow glare softened, realising that Merlin was probably just an overly cautious individual.

"It's most likely animal blood, don't worry it's common around these parts, especially at night." The smarter bandit tried comforting Merlin briefly, and then continued on his path towards the faint light in the distance. "We're almost home, just a couple more minutes to go."

Merlin's guard was still heightened, but he followed along. As he travelled through the forest the scent of blood grew stronger, he tried his best to block out the glaring warning signs in his brain telling him to escape.

The group continued on through the forest, finally reaching the camp's location. As the group stepped through the treeline into a clearing, Merlin's view of the camp was blocked by what looked to be at least several hundred logs, stacked side by side forming a large log wall around the camp.

Merlin was wondering how the camp hadn't been wiped out by mercenaries or soldiers yet. If it was just helpless civilians who camped out in the forest, there was no chance they'd fight back against the constant harassment. But as it turns out, they could survive because they built what was essentially a wood fort.

The light Merlin saw in the distance a little while ago, the light the group had been walking towards, was a single lantern hanging over the wooden gate that served as the camp's entrance.

The group walked towards the entrance, where an older looking armed guard peeked out from the outpost above, asking his group to identify themselves. The younger bandit quickly retorted with a one-liner about him being unable to recognise his own son, and the gate began sliding open moments after.

"You've been waiting to use that one for a while, haven't you?" Merlin noticed that the younger bandit seemed rather pleased with himself, leading him to assume this was probably his first excursion out of the fortress, his general naivety was also a strong indicator.

The younger bandit let out a cheeky giggle in response, he seemed happy that someone mentioned it.

As the group entered the camp, the smarter bandit tapped on Merlin's shoulder, only to point his attention in the direction of a canopy tent. Within the tent stood a buff man with a bald head, swinging a large cleaver at a skinned animal corpse. "Perhaps that's the source of blood you were worried about?"

It did seem like a reasonable assumption to make, the scent of blood did get stronger as he entered the clearing, but something still didn't feel right to Merlin. Nevertheless, after obtaining a reasonable answer he lowered his guard somewhat, which allowed him to shrug off some of the thoughts that were weighing his mind down.

As Merlin was led through the encampment, he was surprised to see that the image he had of the camp prior to visiting it was the complete opposite of what it really was. There was no pools of blood everywhere, no kidnapped villagers being held hostage... from what he could see anyway, and no stereotypical evil bandits.

It just seemed like any other village, a tight-knit community of people who just want to survive, each performing their role to help their village prosper. Within the safety of the wooden walls was a thriving community, not a violent band of thieves and murderers.

The villagers seemed genuinely happy with their lives, there were even small children running around without a care in the world, it was surprisingly peaceful.

The camp was also well lit from inside, there were various torches and campfires littered all around, so he felt safe from the darkness. Merlin threw his torch into one of the campfires he walked past, adding a little bit of firewood and ultimately saving him from having to carry around an almost extinguished torch any longer.

Merlin received some strange looks from the locals as he was paraded through the village, it seemed they were very hesitant to trust outsiders, this was understandable. The group weaved between the various tents and structures that the villagers inhabited. Until he was brought into a