Torik’s Bandit Training

The camp buzzed with tension as Torik's voice cut through the morning air. Bandits gathered in the clearing, some groaning in protest, others moving with weary determination. Their makeshift weapons gleamed in the sunlight, an odd assortment of swords, axes, and daggers.

Torik stood at the center, his dagger twirling in one hand. His expression was cold, his smirk absent. "Listen up," he barked. "Lirian's men will be back, and when they come, I don't want a repeat of yesterday. If you're going to survive, you need to stop fighting like drunks in a tavern brawl."

The bandits muttered amongst themselves, their gazes shifting uneasily. Torik pointed his dagger at them, silencing the whispers. "Line up. Now."

Kain, already standing near the edge of the clearing, watched as the group scrambled to form a loose line. Torik's eyes flicked to him, his smirk returning faintly. "You too, boy. You're not getting out of this."

Kain stepped forward, gripping the wooden staff that had become his constant companion. He slid into the line, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert.

Torik paced in front of the line, his dagger tapping against his palm. "First drill, pairs. Find someone and face off. No killing each other; I need every hand we've got."

The bandits paired off quickly, the clearing filling with the clash of weapons. Torik moved through the chaos, his eyes catching every mistake.

"You're too slow!" he barked at one man, grabbing his arm and forcing him to block properly. "Your enemy won't wait for you to think!"

Another bandit stumbled, his sword slipping from his grasp. Torik was on him in an instant, his dagger pressed against the man's throat. "You drop your weapon in a fight, and you're dead. Pick it up, and don't let it happen again."

Kain faced off against a wiry bandit with a scar across his cheek. The man grinned, his grip on his dagger tight. "Let's see what the boss's pet can do."

Kain didn't reply. He raised his staff, his stance solid, and waited. When the man lunged, Kain sidestepped smoothly, the staff striking his ribs with a dull thud. The man staggered, his grin faltering.

Torik watched from a distance, his smirk faint. "Good. Keep your movements sharp."

The drills continued, the bandits growing more coordinated under Torik's commands. Sweat soaked their clothes, and bruises formed where wooden weapons struck, but none dared complain. The looming threat of House Lirian kept them silent.

As the training wound down, Torik clapped his hands sharply. "That's enough for today. Don't think you've earned a break, though. You'll get it right when you stop making mistakes."

The bandits dispersed, some collapsing onto logs, others nursing their wounds. Torik turned to Kain, his smirk replaced by a serious expression. "You're not done yet."

Kain frowned, his muscles aching. "What now?"

"The prisoners," Torik said simply. "You're going to keep them in line."

Kain's grip tightened on his staff. "Why me?"

"Because they'll listen to you," Torik replied, his voice steady. "You're one of them, sort of. And I need to know if you can manage people, not just swing a stick."

Kain opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he saw Torik's expression. The man's gaze was sharp, calculating, as if this was another test.

"Fine," Kain muttered, turning toward the cages.

The prisoners watched Kain warily as he approached, their eyes flickering between him and the staff in his hands. The girl who had been his cage-mate sat near the bars, her small frame tense.

"You're in charge now?" one man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "What, Torik's got you playing guard dog?"

Kain's grip on the staff tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "You want to eat today or not?"

The man scowled but didn't respond. Kain reached for the bucket of stale bread and water near the cages, handing out rations methodically. Some took the food without a word, their eyes downcast. Others glared at him, their resentment clear.

The girl hesitated when he reached her. "Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

Kain shrugged, his expression hard. "Because I don't have a choice. Same as you."

She accepted the bread, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before turning away. Kain finished distributing the rations and stood back, watching the prisoners eat in silence.

Kain leaned against the cage, the wooden staff resting against his shoulder. The prisoners watched him warily, their expressions ranging from quiet desperation to simmering resentment. The girl, sitting near the bars, chewed on a piece of stale bread, her eyes flickering between Kain and the others.

"You think Torik's gonna keep us here forever?" one of the men muttered, his voice low. He was older, with a jagged scar running down his cheek and an air of defiance that hadn't been beaten out of him yet.

Kain didn't answer immediately, his gaze steady. "What's it matter? You've got nowhere to go."

The man's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. "We've got places to go, just not with him pulling the strings."

Another prisoner, younger and thinner, laughed bitterly. "And what, you think the kid's gonna help? He's Torik's dog now."

Kain's grip on the staff tightened, but he kept his tone calm. "You want to eat tomorrow, you'll keep quiet. Torik's already in a bad mood."

The scarred man sneered, leaning closer to the bars. "And you think he cares about you? You're just another pawn, boy. Same as us."

Before Kain could respond, the girl spoke. "Leave him alone."

The scarred man turned to her, his sneer fading slightly. "You've got a lot to say for someone who hasn't lifted a finger since we got here."

She stood, her small frame trembling slightly, but her gaze didn't waver. "He's keeping us alive. If you push him, we'll all pay for it."

The tension hung in the air. Kain's eyes flicked between them, his mind racing. He didn't trust the prisoners, but he couldn't afford for them to turn on him, or each other. Torik would take it as a failure, and failure wasn't an option.

Across the clearing, Torik was in his element, barking orders as the bandits struggled through another round of drills. Their movements were clumsy, their strikes lacking precision, but they were improving, slowly.

"Faster!" Torik shouted, grabbing a man by the shoulder and forcing him to correct his stance. "You think the Lirians are gonna wait for you to get your footing?"

He turned to another bandit, who fumbled with his sword. "You drop that again, and I'll make sure you don't have a hand to pick it up with."

Despite the harsh words, there was a strange energy in the air. The bandits were tired, bruised, and frustrated, but they moved with more purpose than before. 

Back at the cages, Kain finally spoke. "You think I like this? You think I asked for it?"

The prisoners fell silent, their eyes on him.

"I didn't choose to be here," Kain continued. "But I'm not just sitting around waiting to die. You want to survive? Then stop acting like it's me against you. The real enemy's out there."

He gestured toward the forest, where the shadows of House Lirian's soldiers loomed in every bandit's mind. "You think they'll let you go if this camp falls? They'll cut you down just like they'll cut me down. So maybe stop whining and start thinking about how we get out of this alive."

The girl nodded subtly, her gaze steady on Kain. The scarred man didn't reply, but his expression shifted, the defiance fading into something closer to begrudging respect.

As night fell, the camp settled into uneasy silence. Torik stood near the fire, his eyes scanning the clearing. He glanced toward the cages, where Kain leaned against the bars, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful. Torik's smirk returned faintly. The boy was learning, faster than he'd expected.

"You think he's ready?" one of the bandits asked, stepping up beside him.

Torik didn't look away. "Doesn't matter if he's ready. He'll have to be."

The next morning dawned gray and heavy, clouds pressing low over the forest. Kain stood near the cages, his staff resting against his shoulder as he watched the clearing. Torik's voice cut through the stillness. "Up! We're moving today."

The announcement sent a ripple through the camp. The bandits exchanged uneasy glances, their hands drifting toward weapons and gear. Kain frowned, stepping closer to the clearing where Torik was gathering his men.

Torik stood at the center of the camp, his arms crossed as he surveyed his group. "Lirian's men will come back, and I'm not waiting for them to find us sitting around like sheep. We're heading deeper into the forest."

Before the camp could begin to break down their makeshift defenses, Torik gestured for Kain to join him. The boy approached cautiously, his grip tightening on the staff.

"You're keeping the prisoners in line during the move," Torik said without preamble. "Make sure they don't slow us down."

Kain's brow furrowed. "You're moving them too?"

Torik's smirk faded slightly. "They're leverage. And if Lirian's men catch up, they're bait."

Kain's stomach twisted, but he didn't let it show. "What if they try to run?"

"Then stop them," Torik said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The bandits moved in a loose column through the dense forest, their footsteps muffled by the damp ground. Torik led the way, his dagger flashing occasionally as he cut through underbrush. The prisoners were herded in the middle of the group, with Kain walking alongside them.

The scarred prisoner met Kain's gaze, his expression hard. "So, what's your plan now, boy? Stick with Torik until he decides you're not worth it?"

Kain didn't reply immediately. He glanced at the girl, who was walking quietly beside him, her eyes fixed on the ground. "My plan is to stay alive," he said finally. As the group pushed deeper into the forest, the sound of running water reached their ears. Torik raised a hand, signaling for the column to stop.

"We rest here," he said. "Keep the noise down."

The bandits spread out, some filling canteens at the stream while others kept watch. Kain guided the prisoners to a shaded area, his eyes scanning the treeline for any signs of movement.

The girl spoke softly, her voice barely audible over the babble of the stream. "Do you think we'll make it out of this?"

Before he could reply, a faint rustling reached Kain's ears. He froze, his grip on the staff tightening. The sound grew louder, and his heart began to race.

"Torik!" Kain called, his voice low but urgent. "Something's out there."

The bandits tensed, their hands going to their weapons. Torik moved quickly, his dagger already in hand. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the rustling growing closer with each passing second.

When the first figure emerged from the trees, Kain's breath caught. It wasn't Lirian's men, or any human figure.

It was something else entirely.