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Telryn looked about at the seen in front of him. One man was 'dealing' with a few guards, while another was talking to a woman who was lying against a tree stump.
"Wonder what's going on," He thought to himself.
The "Lords of Vision", or "Lords of Bandits" as Telryn thought they should be called, had attempted to charge him for travelling down the roads. Not once had he paid, many bandits will back down when faced by a strong, flail-wielding man. Needless to say these guards were loyal, but not the best fighters. The brute of a man had dealt with them quickly.
"Makes my job a little easier," Telryn said with a chuckle.
The man near the woman was calling for a healer. Telryn possessed no magical skills whatsoever. Helaing arts were fine, as they caused no pain but removed it, but other types of magic he despised.
His hand stuck close to the handle of his flail, attached to his back with a weapon strap. Danger lurked in unforseen places, one could never be too careful.
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